My Cone and Only (King Family #1) - Susannah Nix Page 0,30

Josh called back, breaking into the kind of smile that used to be rare for him before she came into his life. “We’re in the kitchen.”

“Is Wyatt here?” Mia appeared in the kitchen doorway, a big smile on her face that I only got a glancing share of before her eyes locked onto Josh and lit up like he’d cured cancer.

He’d already gotten to his feet to greet her, his expression soft and shining in a way I still wasn’t used to because it was so different than his usual guardedness. An unsettling ache bloomed in my chest as they kissed, and I averted my eyes while I carried my empty glass to the sink.

Mia detached herself from Josh and came over to kiss my cheek. “I thought that was your truck out front with the ‘Eat the Rich’ bumper sticker.”

“Guilty as charged.” Had I put it there just to piss off my dad and thumb my nose at the family fortune? Damn right I had.

“Your poor face,” she said, frowning at my bruises. “Andie told me what happened.”

“You talked to Andie?” I said.

“How’d Andie know about it?” Josh asked.

Mia looked from me to Josh and then back to me. “We had lunch today.” Her eyes stayed on mine as she answered Josh’s question. “She was at King’s Palace Saturday night when Wyatt got into his fight.”

When I’d showed up at the house today and Josh had seen my shiner, I’d told him about my little altercation, but I’d left out the part about Andie being the woman I’d stepped in to defend. I knew she wouldn’t want me to tell Josh, because he’d only overreact, get all big brothery about it, and probably try to give her a lecture about her personal safety. He meant well, but he could be a little heavy-handed when he got worried about her.

Based on the way Mia was looking at me, I guessed Andie had told her a lot more than I’d told Josh. How much, exactly, I’d sure like to know. Had she told her about driving me home? Or what we’d talked about? My own memories were pretty hazy, so Mia might know even more than I did about what kind of shit I’d said in my inebriated state. I wanted to find out exactly what Andie had said, but I couldn’t very well interrogate Mia in front of Josh.

“Are you staying for dinner?” she asked. “We’re making meatloaf.”

“Wish I could,” I said honestly—especially if they were making Josh’s mom’s recipe. “But I’ve got band practice tonight.”

Josh’s gaze found mine and we shared a long, meaningful look. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I was going to need it.

I frowned at my notebook as I flipped through the pages looking for a song good enough to play for the other guys in my band. Josh was right. If I was serious about doing this, I needed to bring the rest of Shiny Heathens in on it and see what they thought. Get some honest feedback and maybe, if they were into it, some help with the arrangements.

Assuming they didn’t think everything I’d written was crap.

There was a good chance it was all crap.

I had no objectivity. That was why I needed to show this stuff to someone else. But which song should I pick to start with? Trying to decide which one sucked the least was proving more difficult than I’d anticipated.

There’d been fleeting moments when I’d almost convinced myself some of these songs might be pretty good. Maybe even great. But in between those brief flashes of confidence lay vast gulfs of self-doubt when it felt like everything I’d written was as much of a failure as everything else I’d ever tried to do. Boy Scouts, FFA, baseball, football, college, the four jobs I’d been fired from, every relationship I’d tried to stay in. I’d flunked out—or been kicked out—so many times in my life, I couldn’t even remember them all.

Why did I think I’d be any better at this? What did I know about writing songs anyway? Who was I kidding with this shit?

A glance at my phone told me I had twenty minutes left to decide if I was going to go through with this. Rubbing my temples, I flipped through a few more pages.

Jesus, reading these lyrics made me sick to my stomach. Some of this stuff was seriously personal. Almost half the songs were about Andie. A couple others were about my mom. One was about my dad. Another one