Page 21 of Heartbeat Highway

“We can take our shirts off if that makes you more comfortable,” Maxim says. He pulls up the hem of his tee, exposing his very fine set of abs. “It’ll be Howl’s new thing. Shirtless men and curvy goddess lead.”

Dan drains an entire bottle of water. “Could work.”

“I don’t really want Lily staring at all of you shirtless,” Bo says. “Gimmick or no.”

I can’t believe they’re even contemplating this. “Guys, look, I appreciate it, but I’m not who you need up there.” This feels like the weight of a thousand truths. I’m not good enough in law school. I’m passing, but that’s not how you make it to the big firms. Some of my friends who graduated in the low- middle of their class aren’t even practicing law. Two work at Target and the other works for his dad’s shipping business.

I wasn’t a good enough girlfriend to K. Not enough to make him not cheat.

I’m not a good enough friend to Bo. I had sex with him in a public place, and now he’s being all sweet, and I made him lose his lead singer, and I’m going to fuck this up.

“Lily?” Bo’s hand on my shoulder is warm and heavy, and I want so badly to curl up in him. “I see the spiral. Breathe.”

“I can’t.” I whirl around, looking at all the other bands assembled here. The women are all gorgeous and impossibly cool. These are musicians and artists. I don’t fit in here. I don’t fit in with Bo. “What am I going to do? Even if I sing here with you tonight, I can’t stay. I have to be at my internship on Monday.” And with a thud, I realize that it’s the last thing I want to do. I don’t really know what I want, but I don’t want to hustle at a corporate law firm all summer. I don’t want to kiss ass, all while knowing I’m not good enough for them to hire me after I graduate.

But I can’t stay here, either. I don’t belong here. Even if I can pull it together to sing tonight, they’ll find someone else. Someone better. Someone who won’t break up their band.

And Bo? Bo deserves better, too.

“I need a minute,” I say, and run anywhere else.

CHAPTER 14

Bo

I watchthe whole spiral happening, helpless to stop it. I haven’t seen her go through this since she failed one of her first exams in law school. When she takes off, I do what I did that time. I go after her.

She winds quickly through the crowd, her skirt flapping around her legs. Where the hell is she going? There are food trucks set up for the crew and performers, along with some picnic tables that are filled before tonight’s show. The beauty of summer is that it’s still light outside, so it’s easier to dodge a whole bunch of people wearing black clothing and massive equipment.

She pulls open the door to the tour bus and I follow her inside, only a few steps behind her.

“I can’t do it, Bo,” she says, holding one hand to her chest and the other over her stomach. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” I rub her back in slow circles. She’s hyperventilating, but as I continue making soothing sounds, I feel her breath easebeneath my palm. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready to do.”

She turns and buries her face in my chest, and I wrap my arms around her shoulders as she sobs against me. “I’m so sorry. I’m letting you all down. What will you do about the show?”

“We’ll figure it out.” I squeeze her closer to me. “Maybe it would help if you told me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know.” She sniffles, and I grab a tissue from a box on the table for her. “I think I need to sit down.”

We head to the couch and snuggle beside each other on it. I pull a blanket from the back to wrap over her bare legs, then wait.

She leans her head on my shoulder, and I hope we have a lifetime of this. “I just keep hearing everyone who’s ever said I’m not good enough. K, this a capella group in college.” I snort—hey, I can’t help it—and she points a finger at me. “Stop being judgy. I know you lovePitch Perfect, too. I just wanted a group where I felt like I fit.” She sniffles again and dabs at her nose with the tissue. “But they didn’t want me. Maybe it’s how I sound. Maybe it’s how I look.”

“No.” I kiss her head and inhale that sweet scent of her. “Even sweaty, post-sound check, teary, jet-lagged and after a horrible, weird day, you are still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

“You have to say that because you’re my friend.”

“No.” I turn her face to mine and kiss her lips, loving the feel of her at last. “I say that because I love you. I’ve loved you for years, Lily. Because you’re gorgeous and talented and brilliant, and maybe that asshole got into your head. But I think deep down, you know it, too. You had a blow to your confidence. But you’ll find it again.”

She nestles deeper into me. “I love you, too.”

It’s quiet and soft but it also feels like the most real thing anyone has ever said to me.

I stroke one of her arms, letting my fingertips skate over her skin. “That's why I don’t sing, too. All I hear is my dad’s voice in my head. Telling me to be great, but not greater than him.”

“That’s an impossible standard.” She wraps her arms around me and lays her head in my lap. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that. Or that your mom does. I’ve always liked her.”

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