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“Thanks,” I mutter.
Everyone settles around the kitchen table to dig into their food. The blueberry pancakes are fluffy and delicious. I bite my tongue to stop myself from moaning. But when my gaze meets Cash’s across the table, his smirk tells me he knows.
“Are you guys going to the recording studio this morning?”
“Nope,” Cash says. “Not until this afternoon. If it’s okay with you, I want to help you bring those boxes to the library first.”
If it’s okay with me? Someone’s a quick study.
“You don’t have to. If you need to work, I understand.”
“I’ll help, too,” Dylan volunteers. “We’ll be done in no time and then we can record our new song. Ouch!” he yelps before glaring at Cash. “Why did you kick me?”
“No reason,” Cash grumbles.
“It’s no secret ournewalbum will havenewsongs on it.”
“Oh no,” Gibson whines. “Mommy and Daddy are fighting.”
Fender punches his shoulder. “No.”
Gibson bats his eyelashes. “No, what?”
Fender doesn’t respond. He simply grunts before returning his attention to his sausage and eggs.
Jett drops his fork and leans back against his chest while rubbing his stomach. “I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to amuse myself while Cash and Dylan help Indigo.”
I wave my fork at him. “No.”
His eyes widen. “No what?”
“Don’t act all innocent with me. You have troublemaker written all over you.”
He bows. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
“It wasn’t a compliment, dork.”
His mouth gapes open. “Did she seriously call me a dork? Did anyone else hear her? Am I hallucinating again?”
Gibson groans. “You haven’t been eating those mushrooms again, have you?”
“One time. One time I tried a mushroom.”
“One time was enough,” Fender grumbles.
“He was completely out of his mind,” Dylan begins. “He bumped into a chair on the van and became convinced his leg was bleeding. So, he removed all his clothes.”
“Including his underwear,” Fender interrupts to add.
“He’s running around the tour bus stark naked screaming about bleeding to death,” Dylan continues. “Except there is no blood. We’re literally driving down the highway with this lunatic screaming loud enough to be heard over Fender’s bass solo during a concert.”
“Lunatic is such a strong word,” Jett complains.
“At some point, he decides he has to get off the bus because the bus is now poisoning him,” Cash says. “What does the lunatic do?”
“Hey! I’m not a lunatic,” Jett claims.
Cash rolls his eyes. “He tried to jump off the bus.”
