ryder
I can’t tellwhat the hell she’s thinking. She’s retreated back behind those golden eyes like a ghost, and I can’t reach her. There’s nothing I can say to make this choice for her, nothing I can do to shoulder this burden.
It’s her call.
So, I give her space when she tells me she’s going to take a nap in my bed. I know she needs to be alone to process. The last thing I want to do is pressure her into a decision she’s going to regret a few months down the line. At the same time… I can’t pretend I’m not excited about the Route 66 deal.
I’d get to follow my dreams. So would Linc and Aiden.
Butshenever dreamed of this. Felicity never wanted anything to do with this life.
I’m jittery from the anxiety, from not knowing how this is going to play out, even after I pop two little white pills in my mouth and chase them down with a beer in the bathroom. The guys are just as on edge. I’ve never heard our apartment so quiet as we sit on the sofa, staring into space.
Three men awaiting life sentences.
Noon.
One o’clock.
Two o’clock.
When there’s still no word from her at three, we switch from beer to whiskey, passing around the bottle in grim routine. This morning, our dreams felt so close I could reach out and grab them with both hands. Now, with each tick of the clock, I feel them slipping through my grasp.
It’s selfish as hell to admit, even to myself, but I want this. I want this so bad, I can already see it — the four of us out in LA, sharing a loft, making music all day long. An album with a soundwecontrol and cultivate, produced by a studio that supports our vision. That future is so damn clear in my mind. And I want it, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
Except her.
I want Felicity Wilde more than any stack of papers. More than seeing my name on a billboard. More than millions of fans screaming for my songs.
Now that I know what it feels like to lose her, I never plan on doing it again, if I can help it. Even if she turns down this record deal. Linc and Aiden might be resentful, but I’ll find a way to deal with it. I’ll figure out a way to fulfill my dreams without dragging her into them against her will.
It’s five on the dot when my bedroom door finally cracks open.
All three of us turn to watch her as she walks into the room, looking fragile as she stands there barefoot, wearing one of those gossamer sundresses that cling to her curves so perfectly. I try to read her answer on her face, but she’s a master at concealing her thoughts.
“Well?” Linc practically spits, feeling far less patient.
Her eyes dart to mine and, slowly, a grin spreads across her face. I feel my chest expand with joy and relief and excitement.
“Let’s do it.” She laughs. “Let’s make an album.”
Aiden and Linc holler so loud, I’m sure the neighbors think there’s a homicide in progress. I hold out my arms and Felicity hurls herself into them, laughing as I spin her around the room in dizzying circles.
* * *
We liebeneath my sheets later that night, breathing each other in. My arms are wrapped around her, tracing circles on her bare skin with my fingertips. Her head is on my chest, listening to each beat of my heart as it pounds beneath her ear.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask softly. “I know it’s all happening pretty fast.”
Her head lifts until her eyes find mine. “I’m sure.”
“It’s going to be good.” I grin. “Better than good, Felicity. It’s going be amazing.”
“I know.”
“We still have to decide on the band name.” My brows draw together. “Anything come to you, yet? Linc wants something short that also has meaning. He suggested we go byNash— which is so fucking terrible I refuse to dignify it with any actual consideration. Aiden wants something unique —The Wandering SoulsorWhen Darkness Comesor some equally awful shit.”
“Short, unique, and also meaningful. That’s a tall order.” Felicity laughs. “What about you? Any suggestions, since you seem to hate everyone else’s ideas?”