Page 218 of Composed
“Tell me a fun fact.”
She hums, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Did you know that the Romans started the wedding cake tradition?”
“I did not.”
“It originated with a loaf of bread being broken over a bride’s head.” She reels off the fact with such a straight face, I chuckle. “For good luck, and fertility.”
“Oh. Ew.” I shake my head with a grimace. “No wedding cakes in my future then.”
Her mouth twitches and she moves away, falling into step with Axel when he snatches her holdall and throws it over his shoulder. She glances over her shoulder, a small smile on her face. “Get on the plane, Hendrix.”
“I’m coming.”
Still, I don’t move.
I exhale a slow, shuddering breath, white-knuckle the strap of my guitar case, and tip my head back.
The sky is blue, the sun shining. There isn’t a raincloud to be seen. An odd sight for this time of year, but I’m not complaining.
I slide my hand into my back pocket, the knots in my chest loosening as my fingers brush cold metal.
You have to choose.
Love or music…
A shadow falls around me.
Warmth seeps into my back when an arm snakes around my waist.
A breath skates my ear, and my heart expands. “You know they’ll just take off without you, right?”
“They wouldn’t dream of it.” I roll my neck, mouth quirking as Cole presses a kiss to my nose. “Plus, you’re still standing here too. They kind of need you for the show.”
“Damn right they do. I’m the star, baby.”
“Chill the ego, dude.” I click my tongue, as my pulse skitters.
They're about to play the first Reckless Abandon show since we started the new album. We've still got a couple more songs to record before it's finished, but Cole wanted to test the waters with their fans.
Saint and I had already been planning this trip, so when Axel threw out the idea of doing another secret set, it felt like serendipity. A perfect excuse to get everyone together on that plane.
Cole smiles down at me. “You ready for your first show in the wings?”
“Who said anything about the wings?” I ease myself free, spin, and saunter backwards, gaze locked on him. “I’m gonna be right there in the crowd, screaming along to every song.”
“Rixie Moore. My biggest fan.”
The most glorious grin takes over his face and fucking butterflies flutter through me.
Love or music…
A tinkling laugh crawls up my throat.
He doesn’t have to choose, and I never should have.
So fuckyou, Dad.
We’re gonna have it all.
