“We all know what you’ve been doing, Abel,” Ezra continued. “You haven’t been auditioning anyone. You can’t say you’ll do this album and then lead the rest of us on. I may not be as enthusiastic about recording it as Cole and Silas, but I know it’s the right thing to do for Charlie. This album will be made, and Adeline is perfect for it.”
Abel ground his teeth, the muscle in his cheek fluttering.
I looked over my shoulder to see a soft smile on Cole’s face. This was the Ezra we knew. I was so done with the quiet zombie that had replaced him since the funeral.
Cole cleared this throat. “Well, despite the embarrassing outburst, Adeline said she’d be willing to give us another chance. You can’t disrespect her again, Abel.”
“I’d be perfectly happy to never speak to her again.”
Ezra, reading murder in my expression, crossed the room and gripped my right wrist. “Calm down,” he grit out in a low tone.
“Abel, you are not the only person in this band,” Cole stated, his jaw tense. “We all thought that today was a success. Unless you have a convincing, objective reason as to why we can’t continue working with Adeline, we’ll have to revert to a vote, and we’ll win.”
The tension inside of me eased. Thank fuck Cole was willing to spell it out to Abel. We’d been walking around him on eggshells for weeks, and it was past time we stopped. After all, he wasn’t the only one who’d lost a close friend. He wasn’t the only one who was hurting.
Abel let out a huff of air, his nostrils flaring. “Wow. What were you saying about there being no sides, Ezra?”
A crease appeared between Ezra’s brows, which is how I knew that even his infinite patience was being stretched.
He ignored Abel’s attempt at provocation. “Like Cole said, give us one real reason why she wouldn’t be good.”
Abel let out a bitter laugh, but I knew he had nothing.
“Fine. Whatever.” He reached for his backpack and stuffed his laptop inside. “I’m done with this conversation. I agreed to record this album, so I’ll fucking record it. Then we can be done with all of this for good. I look forward to the day.”
His words hurt, but I swallowed the pain down. He’d told us as much already. He’d said he wanted to break up after this album was done, but I hadn’t believed it. Now, with the cold bitterness in his tone, I was starting to think he really meant it.
Cole blocked Abel’s path out of the room with his arm. “You need to behave. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, and I can tell she’ll walk right back out if this happens again.”
They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before Abel gave him a barely perceptible nod and left.
“Fuck me,” Cole moaned, sinking down into a chair. “The only good thing about this situation was the look on Abel’s face when Adeline told him off.”
I snorted. “I was this close to punching him out. Never thought it would come to this. Ezra, I don’t know how the hell you stayed so calm.”
The drummer laughed. It was a tired sound that scraped against my heart. “He’s still hurting.”
“So are we,” I countered.
“I know.”
Cole sniffed. “She killed it today.”
“She really did,” I agreed. “I know it was our first day rehearsing, but she fit right in.”
I still couldn’t believe the events of the past few days, or how lucky we’d gotten with finding Adeline. She played with an intensity I hadn’t seen in a long time, even among professional musicians. There was something special about her, something that made being around her infinitely alluring.
My thoughts drifted to how her lips curved when she smiled, how her arms flexed when she dove into a solo, and how her hips seemed to glide when she walked. Everything about her grabbed at my heart and tugged it in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“I need to message her,” Cole said, standing up. “I think I’m going to head home.”
We all got up and started to pack up our things. My gaze caught on Adeline’s guitar in the studio. She must have forgotten it in her rush to leave. She must have been really upset, because musicians rarely left their instruments behind.
I patted Cole on the back as we exited the studio, while Ezra stayed behind to work on a drum part. “You did well today handling the situation.”
Cole groaned, cracking his neck from side to side. “It’s exhausting. I don’t know how Ezra did it all these years. Calling the shots, taking care on the business side, diffusing conflict. I’m a poor imitation, and if this is how it’s going to be, I don’t know if I can keep it up.”
I understood him perfectly. Ezra was a natural leader—thoughtful, charismatic, kind. We had a manager, but Ezra was the real glue of the band, keeping us in sync and making tough decisions when no one else would.
