other’s heads. It’s fucking unbelievable. This feeling—it’s exhilarating.
Our gazes lock in a moment of sizzling awareness. Without thinking about it, I lean across the console and kiss her. I kiss her hard. She resists, as if I took her by surprise, but then she lets my tongue into her mouth and kisses me back. Her lips are lazy and teasing. Pulse waves ripple through me, tingling my groin. Every nerve ending I have comes brutally to life. Holy shit times two. This kiss—it’s the best goddamn kiss I’ve ever had in a car.
I remember where I am and pull back. I’m not just in any car. I’m in Abby’s car. Guilt hits me a second time.
A horn blasts behind me. Traffic is finally moving again.
“Sorry,” I say, my eyes locked on the road in front of me. “I shouldn’t have done that. I won’t do it again. Let’s keep this between us, okay?”
She doesn’t answer, but I can feel her eyes burning into me. I can’t look at her, though, because if I do, I fear Bria might not be the girl looking back at me.
Chapter Thirteen
Bria
This week has been a whirlwind. Crew stayed at his mom’s in the city every night so we could work on songs going to and from practice. But after that first day, he insisted on driving back and forth in my car. I find it strange, because I swear he has some kind of unnatural attachment to that old Nissan. He loves driving it, but he doesn’t seem to want me in it. Not after that day. I thought maybe he didn’t want to spend money on gas, but he insisted on paying for mine. The man is a puzzle. I’m just trying to figure out if I want to bother solving it.
He hasn’t tried to kiss me again. It’s as if it never happened. Which is probably for the best all things considered. But when I look at him, all I can think about is that kiss. It was the best one I’ve ever experienced, but also the worst, because I shouldn’t have let it happen. We have a good thing going. I can’t let this turn out like before. We need to keep it professional.
That day in the car, I felt we had a breakthrough—right up until he kissed me. Now the tension between us is worse than before but in a different way. Singing or writing lyrics are the only times things feel normal between us.
Tonight we’re all on a high. We signed the contract with Jeremy this morning, and we’re playing our last show at the same bar where I played my first RA gig.
The audience has tripled in size since our first time here. In fact, they had to hire bouncers to keep the place from going overcapacity. Word definitely got out that the opening act for White Poison was playing. I’m sure the bar owner will try to negotiate additional gigs. I’m also sure that our asking price has probably doubled since signing our new manager.
After a short break, Liam stops us before we go back onstage. “Let’s play it.”
We all know what he’s referring to. We’ve been rehearsing one of my altered songs. “I’m not sure we’re ready.”
“Liam’s right,” Brad says. “We should play it. After today we might not have as much control over our set list.”
“This is true,” Garrett says, twirling a drumstick.
Crew shrugs. All of them look at me. I’m not sure when I became the deciding vote. Maybe because it’s my song, only it’s not mine anymore. It’s ours.
I glance at the crowd. “Let’s do it.”
I’m both excited and nervous. This will be the first time I’ve ever sung one of my songs in public. What if they hate it? Crew must sense my anxiety, because he whispers in my ear, “I haven’t told you this yet—probably because I’ve always been the songwriter—but this might be the one that puts us on the charts.”
I smile, more confident now. Garrett counts off with his drumsticks.
My part is first. I sing to Crew. Not because I’m afraid to look at the audience, but because in some strange way, even though there is tension between us, he gives me strength. When it’s his turn, he sings to me. When we sing the chorus, we do it like we did it in the car, because his way is a thousand times better than mine.
The rest of the set is just as good. The audience is on its