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He blows out an angered breath, then closes his eyes. “Whatever you say, Lil.”
“Besides, I have to play the doting… wife?” I try to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t seem to work. It makes me wonder if last night didn’t ruin it all. “Unless all the posts about the fight fucked it all to hell.”
“No. The clips just make it look like the label takes care of its artists, not a man saving the girl he’s hopelessly in love with.”
“He doesn’t love me.”
His hands fly in the air as he spins on his bare feet. Even on the thick, plush carpeting, you can hear his annoyance with each step. At the door, he pauses, looking over his shoulder at me. “Lily, I watched you mope like a shell of yourself for months. I let you hide out at my place and even held your hand through it all because we’re friends. Your heart was broken, and I wanted to beat the ass of the guy who made you cry. I missed the girl who staged sit-ins, loved rollercoasters, and set the frogs free. The girl that lived. I thought she’d come back to me eventually, but you never did. Until we came here. Five minutes with him, and the fire was back.”
I shrug, pretending nothing he said matters. “A woman scorned.”
“Bullshit. It’s a woman in love, but if that woman doesn’t pull her head out of her ass, she’ll end up alone for no other reason than foolish, stubborn pride. And I’m not holding your hand through that.”
He walks out, letting the slam of the door, and his words echo through my head.
Lily
The doors slide open, and I step inside the fifty-million-dollar penthouse that Maddox Masters spent his trust fund on years ago. Wild, unruly blond curls that seem like they should overpower the tiny body they’re attached to greet me. Her golden eyes exude a warmth that has nothing to do with the color as she waves me inside. “Maddox is upstairs with the baby, but we can…” Her mouth twists, her cheeks flushing with an awkwardness that I recognize because Casey so frequently does the same. I’ve only met Quinn twice, but it was enough to know she’s not the big, bold personality you’d expect to be with someone like Maddox. She’s almost his opposite. Definitely the opposite of his best friend.
“Lead the way.” I smile, encouraging her that we’re friends. Or could be.
I follow her through the gallery, to the living room that overlooks the infinity pool, and the incredible New York skyline. The room is decorated with overstuffed, pristine white sofas, dark woods, and an exquisite grand piano sitting by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I take a seat on the plush sofa, my eyes practically rolling at how comfortable it is, and turn my attention to her. “I’m sorry to disturb you at home.”
Her tiny body sinks into an armchair across from me as she pulls her feet under her. She rolls her eyes as another soft smile pulls at her mouth. “Asher has a cold, and Maddox feels…” Her head tilts, lips pulling between her teeth.
“Helpless.” I finish her sentence with an understanding nod.
“He’s still struggling with handling that feeling, so it’s better to let him… hover a bit.”
“I get it.” And I do. Control, even when there’s none to be had, is something I struggle with, too. I’ve always done little things to remind myself I can’t control everything. Like midnight swims in the ocean. Anything to help me remember life is unpredictable and volatile, and there are so many things out there bigger than me. It’s more important to live life than control it because control is only survival. But lately, survival feels less painful.
Or it was until a few days ago.
My lashes drop, sweeping my cheekbones as I shove it all down.
“I saw your performance online the other night. You were terrific.” My eyes pop open with surprise. She gives me a genuine, impressed smile. “How do you do it?”
Heat rises in my cheeks. I don’t know why it never occurred to me she might see the viral video. It didn’t really occur to me that anyone I knew would see it. And while I’m no stranger to compliments, this is for my music. It means more than anyone telling me I am pretty. “You have way more experience than I do.”
Her eyes get wide. Then she laughs. Hard. “Oh God, no. I’ve only been on stage once. I have the worst stage fright. Like, pass out bad. I-I can’t get on stage alone for sure.”
“Yet.” We look up to see the blue-eyed rock god standing in the doorway, holding his mini. Seriously, that baby couldn’t look more like Maddox if they cloned him. Right down to the tuft of shaggy, dark hair and eyes the color of the Mediterranean. “You’ll get there, Canary. Told you. The world needs to hear you sing. They need to see you, too.”
“I agree.” I heard Quinn on the latest SOS album, plus her solo track that dropped a few weeks ago. She has a rasp that you are born with or acquire after a thirty-year, three-pack-a-day cigarette habit. It is sweet yet powerful, smooth but gritty and raw, and distinguishable.
“You weren’t too bad either.” He meets my eyes with a knowing smirk that makes me want to commit hit-and-run. It’s good to know my investment will pay off, but I’m curious to know why you took off.”
My upper lip curls with a bit of disgusted irritation. His annoying, know-it-all ass probably knows everything and has been waiting for me to come around since the moment I left Nashville two days ago. Although, I can’t be sure since Liam hasn’t tried to contact me.
I won’t admit it stings.
“About that…”
Quinn stands when Asher makes a small whimper in his dad’s arms. “How about I take Ash for his nap so you two can talk.” Maddox stares at her like she’s sprouted horns and asked for his soul, but she ignores him and takes their son from him.
When she leaves the room, his sapphire eyes shoot daggers at me like I’m the reason his toy was taken. “Make it quick,” he snaps.
