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He drops into the chair opposite me and rests his elbow on his knees. I let my gaze peruse over him quickly, my heart aching to reach out and touch him. Hold him. Comfort him.
Should I apologise? Or would that land us right back in each other’s arms again? Some desperate little piece of me wants that so badly that my hands begin to tremble.
“It’s just a rough draft,” I whisper.
Hail’s expression is fierce. “I don’t care. I love to hear you play.”
Swallowing, I close my eyes and let my voice caress him as I dive back into that well of pain, desperate to heal internal wounds.
Why can’t I get better? Because I don’t deserve to. Why do I exist? Because I need to suffer. Why did I agree to this contract? Because I owe a debt.
A stupid tear leaks out of my eye, and Hail’s there to sweep it up.
“Z,” he murmurs, brows scrunching up. “About what happened in Kentucky. I want you to know, we can take this as slow as you need. If I crossed a line, I’m sorry. But Iaminterested in you. More than I can wrap my head around.”
My jaw clenches as I find my body leaning into his touch without instruction. Affection and I aren’t well acquainted, so it’s no wonder I crave it from him. A fucked up childhood will do that to you.
The bus door squeaks open, and Hail snaps his hand away. He falls back in his chair with a growl of frustration. “I thought you all were headed out for pizza.”
Malek glances between us, then his gaze comes to rest on my splotchy face.Fuck my pale skin.Can’t hide anything.
“Oh, shit. This right here is a mood.” Malek plops down on the couch beside me. Griff rubs a hand over his head, taking a seat next to Hail at the table. Liam files in next. He leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.
“You homesick, Z?” Liam asks.
“Oh, um… no, I just had something in my eye.” I rub it in show, though I catch the way Liam looks at Hail with a sharp gaze.
“Probably dirt. This whole state is a fucking wasteland,” Malek says dramatically. He reaches for his bass guitar, rested up against the couch, and begins plucking out some funky notes.
The pain in my chest expands until I’m certain I’ll break down in front of all of them. Nothing would be more embarrassing. Sucking in deep breaths, I work to reinforce the locks on my battered emotions.
These guys have been nothing but accepting and kind to me. I don’t want to give them a reason to worry or question our developing friendships.
Griff slides his drumsticks out of his back pocket to fiddle with them. “You know, we’ve all been wondering–”
More exchanged glances between the other three as Hail’s eyes burn into the side of my face. He looks like he’s ready to leap into action.
“Have you played in a band before, Z?” Griff asks.
Blood drains from my face, panic bleeding darkness into my vision. My head feels too heavy for my neck. Do they know? How did they find out?
I look at Hail, but he gives nothing away in his features.
“I have,” I reply carefully. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Anyone we know?” Malek asks.
The burning interest of the entire band on me makes me flush and rub the back of my neck. I fight the urge to burst off the bus and sprint somewhere where my brain will feel safe and my chest won’t fucking hurt so much. But pulling out of tough situations like this isn’t going to help me get over this monster digging its claws into me.
“Probably not,” I mutter.
Liar. But I’m not ready to share. I’ve been doing good. No need to push myself.
“Hard to break into the scene,” Malek replies. “I was in three other bands before Atonement took pity on me.”
I nod, though I can no longer meet their eyes. Shame burns in my gut. Can we be done with this conversation?
“As you know from the NDA you had to sign, my time is up at the end of this tour. But for the others,” Liam waves a hand, “they need a strong guitarist. I’ve never seen anyone play as well as you. Your name has even been tossed around by Sondra and Cora.”
