Page 60 of Songbird
“Boys?” Izzy points to the sofas. “Move these back a little so there’s more room for the stage. Oh! And the coffee table too.”
“Bossy little thing, isn’t she?” I mutter as Dylan and Chord lift the larger couch while I carry Dad’s old armchair to the far corner.
Dylan snorts and shakes his head, but he doesn’t disagree.
While my brothers and I clear an open space in the middle of the room, Poppy and Charles hook up the karaoke system, which includes a display screen, a sound system, and some kind of strobe light. Next to them, Daisy sets up two microphone stands, and in the kitchen, Violet and her dad make coffee. Rosie’s helping Izzy set a book of sheet music on her music stand, andI’m about to cross the room to steal a moment with her when a strong hand lands on my shoulder and yanks me into the hallway.
I stumble as Chord drags me farther from the living room, only spotting Dylan loitering down the corridor once I’ve got my feet underneath me again. He’s got a goofy grin on his face, which, come to think of it, isn’t so unusual these days. Ever since he hooked up with our sister’s best friend, and worse, since he married her, my younger brother has been happier than I’ve seen him since we were kids.
“When you said you were bringing a girl, you didn’t tell me she wasthegirl.” Dylan lands a playful punch on my shoulder. “How the hell did you meet Rosalie Thorne?”
I glance back down the hallway to make sure we’re alone. “Long story short: I was her bodyguard for a couple months last year before I came home. I got the job through a friend. It didn’t work out, but things with Rosie… Well…” I’m too ashamed to confess that I fucked up the single most important rule of protecting a client. Don’t get involved.
But I don’t have to say it. The implication is clear enough that Chord nods, amusement on his lips. “Things got complicated.”
“You could say that.”
Chord gets it. Violet was his personal assistant before they started dating, and when news of their relationship went public, there was viral backlash accusing Violet of being a gold digger. It nearly destroyed their relationship, and it occurs to me now that if word got out about me and Rosie, criticism would fly the other way. I’d be the one taking advantage of her, and while that’s garbage, even I can admit that from the outside, I don’t add anything of value to our relationship.
“She’s cool,” Dylan says. “And I say that in spite of the celebrity factor, you know? Not because of it. It’s easy to forget she is who she is to the rest of the world.”
“Yeah.” I tip my head toward our high-profile and higher-paid hockey player brother. “Living with this asshole for a big brother kind of desensitizes a guy to all that fame and fortune. You learn quick that it’s total bullshit.”
Chord rolls his eyes. “Insults aside, I agree with you. The status and the money are all smoke and mirrors, but that woman in there? She’s the real deal.”
I didn’t know I cared about my brothers’ approval until they gave it so easily, and the weirdness I feel having it takes me off guard. I love that they like her, but it carves a pit in my stomach that I don’t quite understand. All I know is it’s got something to do with her leaving.
“You’ve got no idea,” I say with a reflective sigh. “She’s smart and feisty, funny and determined. She’s been through a lot and hasn’t given up. And she’s talented. You wouldn’t believe how talented. The music she’s been writing while she’s been here? Like nothing you’ve heard before. Rosie is a force of nature.”
My brothers stare at me with near identical amusement dancing in their eyes.
“What?” I demand.
“Never knew you could put that many words together at one time,” Chord deadpans.
I give him an elbow in the ribs. “Shut up.”
“You like her,” Dylan says.
“What’s your point?”
Chord and Dylan exchange a glance, the kind that says they know more than I do but whatever the secret is, I’m going to learn it soon.
“His point,” Chord says, “is if you’ve found someone who has the power to get through toyou, you might want to find a way to hang on to her.”
I huff out a laugh. The irony of my brothers saying the exact thing I’ve been thinking all night. “If only it were that easy.”
By the time we return to the living room, Izzy and Poppy are ready to kick things off with their rendition of “Bye Bye Bye” by *NSYNC. I slip around the edge of the room to capture Rosie’s hand, pulling her with me as I find us a seat, and she curls up against me on the end of one sofa. She’s warm, soft, and close, just the way I need her.
Thanks to an extra-large pitcher of Poppy’s margarita mix, prepared using a recipe made infamous at her mom’s local dive bar, the girls have loosened up enough to give the karaoke machine a real go. Once Izzy and Poppy graciously accept their round of applause, Daisy drags Violet to the microphones, and they bless us with an off-key cover of “This Is Me” fromThe Greatest Showman. Well, Daisy does. Violet sways in the background as backup, and when the song’s finished, she returns to her place beside Chord on the opposite sofa, her cheeks pink and a shy smile on her mouth.
Dylan and Luke do a decent version of “Livin’ on a Prayer,” followed by Daisy, Charles, and Izzy with a take on “Shotgun” that involves a coordinated dance they’ve obviously rehearsed.
Next to me, Rosie laughs and cheers and demands encores. It takes my family time to work up enough nerve to ask her to perform, but thirty minutes in, Izzy takes her hand and tugs her up onto the makeshift stage. Rosie graciously obliges, giving me a swift kiss before she rises.
It’s that one small gesture that tips me past the point of rationality. One passing kiss after dozens and dozens before it. She did it so naturally. I responded so easily. It’s like there’s never been a time in my life or a place in my world where Rosiewasn’tkissing me, reaching in and dragging out the parts of me I’ve always kept to myself. After tonight, there isn’t a reason I want my world to be any different.
Izzy and Rosie step behind the microphones, and from her position as unofficial emcee, Poppy cues up the next song. Fromthe first few bars, we recognize it as one of Rosie’s most popular tracks, and probably the one that catapulted her stratospheric rise to success. It’s an upbeat dance number, popular with kids, about self-love and self-esteem, friendships and freedom, and Izzy’s a frantic mess at the idea that she’s about to sing her favorite song with the real-life Rosalie.
