Page 57 of Love is a Lyric
Her song had it.
Her voice definitely had it.
The song held a familiar rhythm, but he couldn’t pinpoint why, and he didn’t care. He let it wash over him as she sang of an unworthy girl experiencing the world from a different vantage point.
She sang of herself, a peek into the girl who only ever wanted to take care of other people.
The conversation Ben overheard came back to him, and his heart fractured. She never should have been brought into their messed up rock-and-roll world, a world that snuffed out all goodness.
And Piper, she was good.
He closed his eyes, letting himself fall into her song, letting her voice heal him, if even just a little.
As her voice tapered off, he opened his eyes to find Chase staring at him, a question in his eyes.
They stayed in a silent standoff until the applause from the crowd snapped them back to reality. Chase turned his attention to Piper and whistled as she rushed off the stage as fast as she could.
She slid back into the booth as if she hadn’t just shifted the world on its axis.
As if Ben could ever forget the sound of her voice.
Ben could only stare at Piper, but she wouldn’t meet his eyes as she wrung her hands together on the table. Someone else stepped up to the stage, and before long, piano music filtered through the pub, but it didn’t matter.
None of that mattered.
Not when he now knew the girl he’d overlooked in favor of her flashier sister needed the music just as much as he did.
“Piper…”
She lifted her eyes to his, her lips parting to release a breath.
“I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
Why? Why had she hidden everything she could do, everything she could make him feel? A voice was a powerful tool, a way to connect with the world. And she’d chosen to keep it to herself, locked away within the walls of this pub.
“Does Quinn know?” His question snapped something between them, and she looked away again. That was his answer. If Quinn had any inkling her sister was more than what Piper let on, more than a coffee fetcher or laundry folder, she’d have done everything in her power to suppress it, to snuff the light out of Piper’s talent.
How could he have ever thought he loved someone like that?
He knew now he’d tricked himself into it, thinking the music mattered more than the heart.
“Piper!” Tommy rushed toward the table, breaking their spell. He balanced a tray on his hand and set plate after plate in front of them. “You were wonderful. I’ve missed that voice around here.” He tucked the now-empty tray under one arm and grinned. “I hope you’ve kept singing because a talent like yours isn’t meant to sit on a dusty shelf.”
Her face reddened. “Um, I’ve been writing, but my singing is a little rusty.”
She’d been writing? Still? When Ben’s dad told him Piper wrote lyrics, he assumed it was a teenage hobby, something that helped her cope. And now?
“Well,” Tommy leaned in, “that’s something at least. Don’t go wasting your youth, dear. Your dreams won’t wait for you.” He straightened. “I need to get back to the kitchen, but don’t forget to say goodbye before you leave. Food is on the house tonight, but I want another song.” He rapped his knuckles on the wood and sauntered away.
Ben stared at the variety of food in front of them. Fried tomatoes, some kind of wonton taco, pulled pork sliders, baked pretzels. “He expects us to eat all this?”
Chase and Piper shared a look before both smiled. “He knows we will.” Chase reached for a slider, but Ben wasn’t hungry, at least not for food. All he wanted was answers.
“You dreamed of becoming a singer?”
Piper chewed a bite of pretzel and swallowed. “No.”
Chase shrugged, not looking at either of them. “She dreamed of writing songs for other people to sing.”
Piper elbowed him, and he yelped, shooting her a glare.
Ben looked from Chase to Piper. She’d wanted to be a songwriter? He could still hear the song from moments before with the haunting lyrics.
“Why haven’t you tried to become a lyricist then? I’m sure Melanie would help you talk to the right people.”
