Page 120 of Time Out

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been doing this for a decade, and Brianna’s the best. We’ve practiced. I’ve seen your confidence. You’ve had it all week, so it might be hiding for a moment, but it’ll be back.”

She swept off onto the stage, long blonde hair flowing in a straight sheet at her back as she took her seated place and double-checked the height of her drum kit.

“You ready?” I asked Carter. He was my lead guitarist.

Amazing how Brianna could throw a band together for me, and everyone had been so kind. We’d played together like we’d been doing it for years and had from the very first song. Sure, it helped that they were all songs everyone would know, but our personalities had meshed together as well. Stella was outgoing and bright and sassy. Dayne, the electric guitarist, was a quintessential rocker with tatted arms and long hair and facial piercings. Halfway through practice, his shirt was usually tossed somewhere, and I had no doubt it’d end up somewhere in the crowd by the time my set was done. My bassist, Joshua, who insisted on Joshua not Josh, was quieter, focused, and talented.

And then there was Carter. He could have been a brother to me for as well as we instantly clicked. He seemed to understand me on a deeper level. Knew how badly I wanted this and let it be known his job was to help make me shine, not take the spotlight.

“Always ready, Maggie. You?”

I glanced at the rest of the band, doing quick final sound checks and tuning their guitars.

Davis, Belle, and Ruth were out there. Friends I’d only recently met and already cared deeply for.

This was my chance. My opportunity.

I settled a hand to my stomach, glanced down at the bulge there, and nodded.

I was ready—to make my own dreams come true to prove to my siblings they could do it, to make the best life possible for my child, and most of all, to be my own best self so I could be the best partner to Davis.

“Let’s do this.”

Chapter 37

Davis

Holy freaking hot damn in a basket. My mouth was dry, my gut tight, and my dick? Well, he was all sorts of confused about what he should be feeling right then. He was absolutely not enjoying being confined behind the tight denim and zipper of my jeans, that was for certain. I’d been semi-hard since Maggie took the stage.

She was halfway through her set and absolutely killing it. The bar was packed, grew packed the longer she stood on that stage and sang her heart out, as if people walking by had been drawn to the sound of her voice as it filtered through the doors. My teammates had come to make sure there was a crowd, but two songs in, I was pretty sure they were all ready to shove a knife in my back to get me out of the picture. Mason couldn’t shut up about how hot she looked, how lucky I was.

And if Carr licked his lips one more time while Maggie swished her hips back and forth, he’d end up with my fist in his face. Ruth hadn’t left my side, and while she’d looked terrified at the crowd and uncomfortable in her surroundings, at a bar with alcohol being freely drunk in excess around her, she was now clapping right along with everyone else, singing the choruses to songs she knew.

Goddamn, I was so damn proud of Maggie. My heart swelled every time she nailed a note she’d been worried about, but she’d never needed to worry. She was absolutely mesmerizing. She was so pure, so energetic, and the beams of light bursting from her eyes captivated every person who listened to her.

“You have found yourself a babe!” Mason threw his arm over my shoulders and yanked me against him.

“Don’t call my girl a babe.” I shoved him off me, only to have him laugh and shake it off.

Moving to Ruth, he held out a hand. “What do you say, Ruth? Want to dance with me?”

Her eyes went round and turned to me, back to Mason. “Um.”

“I’ll be a gentleman. Promise.”

Yeets was no damn gentleman, but it wasn’t like half the team hadn’t heard and learned of Ruth and Maggie’s past in the last couple of weeks.

“Can I?” she asked me.

And goddamn, I really wanted to shove my fist into her father’s face, more so than Carr’s. What a fucking asshole he was. I understood strict religious rules. I understood biblical principles, but the more I learned about Ruth’s upbringing, the more I believed her family’s church wasn’t a church family, it was some goddamn strange cult.

I couldn’t wait until Christian Connelly’s lawyers and investigators found all the dirt on them and took them down.

“You can do anything you want, Ruth. A little dancing is okay, I think. As long as Mason keeps his distance?”

“I’m going to teach her some two-steppin’, calm down, dad.”

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