"Play something,"I type."Sorry I don’t know much about you, but apparently you’re a great musician."
Bay exhales a slow ribbon of smoke, then stands without a word. He pulls the guitar from the wall, plugs it into the amp under the table, and sits down again with it across his lap.
He strums a single note to check the tuning, then his fingers start moving with a natural ease and skill that has me staring.
He plays. The melody isn’t familiar, but it’s pleasant, almost romantic.
I get kinda lost in it. Honestly, I expect him to sing too, I know from YouTube clips he has a great voice, but he doesn’t. He just plays. I close my eyes because I’ve always liked listening to music.
Still, the sound doesn’t carry what Snow’s music does when he plays harmonica or piano. Snow’s melodies ease my pain, soften its sharp edges, bring flashes of memory, make me feel alive again. Bay’s music… it’s just really good music.
Still, I let myself sink into it until I hear footsteps outside.
The door bursts open.
Rather violently.
Snow steps in.
What a scene he must be walking in on: me sitting here while Bay plays what sounds like a love song for me.
I’m also kinda stunned to see him. I was sure he’d still be talking with Theo. That didn’t seem like a quick conversation to have. But apparently, it’s been resolved?
Snow’s eyes flick from me to Bay. Bay slows his playing to a lazy strum, just enough for background.
That crooked smile appears on his face again.
"Relax, Snow. Don’t worry. There’s no revenge fuck happening here. Even though it would be somewhat justified, considering you’ve known for a year that your future boyfriend, Summer, would be here in mid-September. Yet you still managed to breed Theo the day before Summer came," he stabs Snow with this remark.
Snow’s violet eyes almost blaze as he stares at Bay with wild intensity.
Bay calmly sets the guitar aside.
"So, bro, how did things go with Theo?" His voice is cutting, mocking. Something flickers in Snow’s expression.
Bay tilts his head. "Are you going to take the weight off him? Raise the kid in our house? Tim Kellan won’t be posingfor publicity shots holding a white-haired baby. The guy’s a brunette."
Snow says nothing, which doesn’t surprise me. His gaze flicks to me for a moment, hard to read, before locking back on Bay. I can see his chest rising and falling faster, his heart pounding.
Bay reaches for the e-cig waiting on the side table, takes a long drag, and exhales a stream of smoke straight toward Snow.
I don’t know why, but I stop it midair. It looks like the smoke hits an invisible wall, hovering about five feet in front of Snow.
It’s pointless, of course—smoke can’t hurt anyone—but I do it anyway. I can’t stand the way Bay tries to humiliate him.
We all stare at the strange sight, the smoke curling and splitting around a barrier no one can really see.
Silence falls.
"I think you should leave, Snow," Bay says coldly, his mouth twisting into something close to a sour grimace. "There’s nothing here for you. You’re about to be a father, and your life is going to change. Think about what your priorities are, what you want to focus on. With your talent, that shouldn’t be hard."
The bitter, mocking edge in his words still vibrates in the air.
Snow glances at me once more. Is that sadness flickering in his eyes? Then he simply turns and heads for the door.
I stare after him, feeling a terrible tearing inside me, like my heart is splitting apart. I hesitate, ready to stand and run after him, but Bay seems to sense it and suddenly says,
"Don’t do it, Summer. Clear your head first. Think it through, because everything is about to change. The baby will become part of the conversation in this family. Snow isn’t a hundred percent free anymore, he’ll always have a responsibility. You need to be sure this is what you want at this point in your life."
