Page 47 of One More Song

“We’ll fight it—”

She turns in my arms and blinks up at me. “We?”

I hadn’t realized I’d said it. There’s hope in her eyes. Hope that I want to give her. But I can’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.

“I called my lawyer. She’s good. I told her to hire someone to look into Mitch’s past. If there’s any dirt, she’ll find it.”

“You didn’t have to do that. And I can’t afford a fancy lawyer.”

“I’ll cover the cost.”

“Ash.” Her forehead and palms rest against my chest and I feel her tremble. “What are you doing?”

There’s a heaviness to her words.

I tilt her chin up. “I want to help.” Scratch that, I need to help. More than I’ve ever needed to do anything in my life.

“I’m terrified,” she admits, tears forming in her eyes.

“I know.” I kiss her forehead, my lips lingering there, breathing her in. I’m terrified too. For her. For Cadence. Forme. And something inside of me screams to make promises that I’m not just going to help, but that I’ll be here, beside her, through it all.

But I have responsibilities. Synn reminded me of that. Contracts that need to be fulfilled. And people counting on me. But the only two people I care about right now are Ember and Cadence.

Someone clears their throat, and Ember quickly pulls back, eyes widening when she sees Synn watching us.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, expression unreadable. He looks at me. “But I need to talk to you.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck and following him into the front sitting room, where all our gear is spread out like the place is home.

It’s what it feels like.

A place I could grow some roots. Settle down, but still write music. Not that I have any delusions that the guys would go for it, they’re already stir-crazy, longing to get back to L.A.

“You going to lecture me again?” I ask. “’Cause right now isn’t the best time. Ember is going through—”

“I get that her ex fucked her over, but that’s not our problem.”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

He glares at me. “You can think whatever you want, but a couple years from now, you won’t even remember the chick’s name. What you will have is another platinum record if you can manage to keep your head on straight.”

“We’ve already got enough songs—”

“Exactly.” He leans against the wall, arms crossed. “We’ve been sending them to Maryll every few days. And like Saint mentioned, she loves them. She just called and she’s flying us home in two days. She’s already set up time in the studio—”

“You had no right.”

“I have every right.” He pushes away from the wall and pokes a finger at my chest. “You owe us this. After everything you’ve put us through the past couple years, it’s time you gave something back.”

“Ember needs me.”

“Ineed you.”

I hold my best friend’s gaze, knowing he’s ready to fight. But so am I.

“We can record the album any time. We stay the three months like we planned.”

“Why? So she’ll fall even more in love with you?” He shakes his head and starts to walk away. “I’m not having this same fight with you again. We’re leaving in two days. End of discussion.”

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