Page 50 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

She shrugs. “They offered him one, you know—based on the caliber of the article.”

“Bastard,” I mutter. “He stole that from you too?”

“I applied, but . . . who am I kidding? If publications are anything like how it is at Stoneman, I won’t get a single internship. They never took me seriously and treated me like a goddamn secretary . . . I only stayed as long as I did because I love to write. It’s been my dream since I was a kid to be a journalist—a writer. I thought if I stuck it out things might change, and it did . . . for a while. But it’s not worth it anymore.”

“But it’s your dream,” I say softly.

“It still is. I just have to find another way to get there. That’s all.”

My eyes close, and I take a calming breath in through my nose and out my mouth. “Izzy—”

As I open my eyes, I catch her flinch.

“I—sorry,” I say, “do you not like that name?”

She shakes her head. “No, no . . . it’s not that. I love it. I just—I don’t hear it often enough anymore.”

“Oh.”

“Just promise you won’t call me Bella, okay?” she says with a smirk.

I grin widely. “Deal.”

After dropping Isabella off at her place, I drive for hours, just letting the road take me where it wants.

Is that what we are? Friends?

Fuck how I wanted to say no. To grab her face in my hands and kiss her, press her body up against the car and ravage her. Butno, that definitely crosses the friendship boundary, although I suppose between Izzy and I, it’s been a bit blurred from the start.

The logical part of my brain knows what I’m doing is right. That what comes along with my dreams will crush her. Run her over like roadkill left behind for vultures like Simon to pick and feed off of. And I don’t want that for her. She has dreams too. Dreams that she deserves to have come true.

What does it say about me that I’m not willing to sacrifice my dreams for her? I’ve worked too hard and too long to get where I am. I can’t risk losing it now. What woman wants to come second to a man’s ambitions? No, I’ve seen what that does to someone—what it did to Emily, my mom—and I won’t make that mistake again. Besides, Isabella deserves a man who will drop anything and everyone to be there to support her, and I can admit I wouldn’t be able to do that. So I’ll support her as best as I can. As a friend, from the sidelines.

The next dayI’m on my fourth cup of coffee by the time I walk into the dimly lit bar to set up my drum kit. I’m always the first to arrive. My equipment takes the longest to set up, and I’m a bit obsessive with making sure everything is in place because the guys wind their amps and cords across the small stage.

As I stifle a yawn, I spot Al talking to the bartender and wave him over. Sitting at my kit, I stomp on the bass drum pedal, taking note of how it’s a bit sticky and could use some grease.

“Noblar, how’s it going?” Al asks, leaning his protruding belly against the stage.

I cross my arms. “It’s been an interesting few days.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll say. Walton is nuts to be getting married. He’s only nineteen.”

“You’ll never convince him he’s not doing the right thing.”

“I guess not,” he says. “You going with them to Vegas?”

I nod. “Yeah, we’re all heading out Monday morning.”

“I’ll get you guys some motel vouchers as a wedding gift,” he says thoughtfully. “I know you’re not raking in the big bucks yet, but it’s coming. We just have to be patient.”

“That’s decent of you, Al, we’d all appreciate that.”

“Sure thing. You’ll have to get used to sleeping in motels when you guys head out on tour.”

Going on tour. I grin like an idiot, my cheeks straining. “Holy shit, really? A tour. For real?”

“Guess your days are going to get even more interesting.”

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