Page 23 of #Moonstruck

But you’ll look sweet upon the seat

Of a bicycle built for two

“That sounds familiar.” Ryan nodded.

“Anyway, most people don’t know this, but for the rest of that song the girl is referred to as ‘Daisy Bell.’ My mom used to sing me that song all the time but used Maisy Ell. For most of my childhood I thought it had been written about me.”

“Do you get your talent from her?”

“No. She couldn’t have carried a tune in a bucket. She used to swear that my first word wasshubbup. When she sang me to sleep, I would tell her to shut up every single time.” I would have given just about anything to have her sing it to me again, though.

Ryan laughed at my story, and it warmed me inside not only to hear it but also to share this good memory of my mom. I had actually forgotten about it. “Does your mother like jazz, too? Is that why she went along with the jazz-musician names?”

No, she’d gone along with it because she had absolutely no self-respect or pride where my father was concerned. “She was more of a Beatles fan. If she’d had her way, we’d be John, Paul, George, and Ringo.”

He gave me a serious nod. “I can see you as a Ringo.”

Now it was my turn to laugh.

“Is that why your band is called Yesterday?”

“Yep. It was her favorite song.”

Ryan pushed the Cool Whip off his pie and looked like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should. “You talk about your mom using the past tense. Did she pass away?”

I let out a shaky sigh. “No ... but it’s hard to explain.” Especially without curling up into a ball and sobbing.

He tapped his fork against his plate. “Maybe you’ll tell me the story someday.”

“Maybe I will.” Where had that come from? I hadn’t planned on telling Ryan De Luna anything personal about myself at all, and here I was ready to spill my guts to him.

“I do find it interesting that you’ve named your group after a song from one of the biggest pop bands ever, given how much you hate pop music.”

This was not the first time I’d had this argument. “They were a rock band, not a pop band.”

He leaned back in the booth and rested his arm across the back of the bench. He looked like he was enjoying himself. “They started as a pop band.”

“They were the freaking Beatles. They defied labels.”

“Hey.”

I had been so caught up in my conversation with Ryan that I had completely forgotten about my brothers. Now all three of them stood next to the booth, glaring at us.

“One question, dude,” Parker said, taking a step forward. “Are you asking us to be your opening act so you can bag our sister?”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“You did not just ask him that!” I gasped. It was like I had three living chastity belts.

Ryan looked ... pissed. He cleared his throat. “I’m trying to find an opening act. If you’re not interested ...” He stood up, and all three of them spoke at once.

“Whoa!”

“Hang on a second.”

“We were just worried.”

Ryan slowly sat back down, then turned his face toward me. “I think your sister is beautiful and talented and funny, but as I’ve repeatedly been told, she doesn’t date musicians. So I don’t think you need to worry.”

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