Page 44 of Anything But Lonely

“It sure looked like you and Ems were in the middle of something,” Theo says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I said it was nothing.” My voice is hard, but I can’t get myself to look at him or Silas. My gaze stays just a few inches past my feet before I exhale, letting my head fall back on the couch. “She’s going to be the death of me.”

Eddie pats my shoulder twice before he finally says, “Let’s just get this done.” He places his guitar on his lap, putting me out of my misery, but when I turn to him, he’s doing a shit job of hiding his own amusement.

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes before sitting back up, wanting to forget whatever just happened with Emerson and focus on something else.

Eddie starts playing the original harmony notes so Silas and I can each hear our part before adding in the new part—Theo’s. He gives us each the foundational pitch to lock onto, the three of us humming through our part as we feel it out.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Emerson says over the music, peeking her head out of the bathroom, and I freeze, my body tensing at the sound of her voice. “Mateo, can you text Crew’s mom that we’ll be a few minutes late for the goodnight FaceTime?” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her glance back to the bathroom where I hear the sink turning off. “We’re pretty much sleepwalking over here, so it’s going to take us a little longer than usual.”

I don’t dare to look in her direction as I pull my phone from my pocket, sounding off a quick, nonchalant, “Yeah,” but the crack in my voice does not go unnoticed by my three best friends—or my son’s nanny.

Emerson created a good schedule for Crew, and she not only keeps me involved, especially on traveling nights, but also makes sure Crew talks to Talia at least once a day. Most of the time, it’s “on the phone”; other times, it’s a phone call or text, but even with the time change, she makes sure Crew has a chance to talk to his mom.

It’s something she did without me even having to ask, and I wish I could thank her for it without sounding like a fumbling idiot—my default setting when it comes to her.

With it being just past five in the morning in Paris, I know Talia is already up and getting ready for work and expecting Crew’s FaceTime.

I send her a quick text that we’re running late before going back to tomorrow’s show notes, but the sound of my son’s sleepy giggles and Emerson’s soft, raspy voice is distracting.

Even more so when I can’t see them.

I could watch them for hours—the way Crew lights up when Emerson answers one of his millions of questions or the way he talks her ear off when it’s just the three of us in the tour bus.

Crew has always been the sort of kid who gets along well with adults. He’s anything but shy and loves to talk to anyone who will listen, but not all adults offer him the same patience and respect that Emerson does.

It’s like she sees him as a little person, rather than a little kid.

And as his father, it means more to me than I can even put into words.

“Mateo?” Eddie says, and I turn to look at him.

“Sorry, I’m just a little⁠—”

“Distracted,” he finishes for me, a small, knowing smile on his face.

It takes me out of my own head for a second, reminding me of simpler times—when he was the one distracted during a band practice, too busy staring at my sister to focus on the song we were playing.

Funny how things change.

Now I’m the one struggling to keep my attention where it belongs, distracted by the one person who has made me feel something I stopped looking for a long time ago—literal years ago.

And she’s the one person who is completely off-limits.

CHAPTER 17

EMERSON

It turns out it’s surprisingly easy to outrun yourself when you’re moving every few days.

A new city, a new hotel room, a new crowd screaming someone else’s name—it’s enough noise to drown out the thoughts that usually find me in the silence.

For the last month, I’ve let myself become part of this strange, temporary world, because pretending this is my life feels a lot easier than facing the one I left behind.

Tour should be exhausting—the constant moving, the late nights, the challenge of keeping Crew’s routine stable within all the chaos—but somehow it became the easiest I’ve ever breathed.

I’ve learned the rhythm of the bus, the personalities of the band, and exactly where to stand when the lights go down and the first note hits.