Talking music with Mads is cathartic. He always knows exactly how the piece should sound, giving his entire soul to every fragment, note, and word, yet he’s always open to hearing suggestions for our own segments. He makes collaborating fun, like it isn’t part of our job but rather a privilege we get to share with the world.
I fucking love making music with them.
“—I mean, that’s what I had originally planned, but we can fuck around with it later,” Mads goes on after reading through a few lines.
“No, that sounds…” I blow out a breath, taking in his ideas. “Let me get my pad. I had a thought about the beginning too. Like the lead in—”
“Nope,” Reed announces behind us. “It’s Friday. We’re doing Freaky Friday, right?”
“The hell is Freaky Friday?” Zeb asks.
Mads shakes his head at Reed. “This fucker wants to play that new video game that came out last week,” he says. “Some prick challenged him online.”
“Surprised you’re on board with that,” I say to Mads.
“I’m not really,” Mads replies.
I grin his way. “What baby wants, baby gets, right?” I tease him about Reed.
“Always seems that way,” he says. “Doesn’t help that Wren left for Milan this morning, so he doesn’t know what to do with himself.”
“Poor lonely Reed,” I taunt. “Okay, so, how about a compromise?” I say as I’m not thrilled about fucking with the groove I’m in, even if gaming does sound tempting. “Work this morning. Zeb and I have that class later so we can break. Dinner. Then an all-nighter gaming livestream like we used to do.”
“Hell yes,” Reed says, pointing at me. “That’s a fucking idea.”
“Ah, shit, you guys are trying to kill me,” Zeb says, stretching his back out. “We’ll need lots of energy drinks and a new camera set up in the theater room. Hey, isn’t one of Gemma’s people a tech guy?” he asks me.
“Aren’tyoua tech guy?” I say about one of his many hidden skill sets.
“Well, yeah, but I assume I’ll be working,” he says, glancing between me and Mads.
“Yeah, he’s not wrong,” Mads agrees.
“Okay, raise your hand if you want to work first and play hard all night,” Reed says, hand shooting in the air.
All four of us have our hands in the air when the front door opens, and in walks a very tired-looking Gemma and an equally-exhausted looking Kade.
“Hey, gang,” she says, glancing between us.
I think Mads replies, Reed getting up from the couch, yet all I can do is smile and take in the sight of her as her gaze lingers on me. I should let the thoughts of her occupy my mind. I should shut out the noise holding me back and making me scared of something real.
Still, the memory of how I gave in last night rings in the back of my mind, and I know I’m the worst person for her, so much less than I’m sure she deserves.
I stuff the glove into the back of the couch before standing.
The guys are already busy chatting with Kade and Liam about setting up a gaming/streaming room tonight as I make my way over to join the conversation. Except Gemma moves her head in the direction of the kitchen, and I follow behind her, feeling uneasy at how she’s separating me from the group.
Something’s wrong.
This isn’t the smile she’s greeted me with before. Worry stretches across her face, concern written in the way she’s grinding her teeth.
“You look like you’re about to tell me my dog died,” I say in an attempt to lighten the mood.
She peers toward the guys before pressing her palms into the counter. “Didn’t figure you wanted them any more overprotective of you than they already are with what I’m about to show you,” she says. “I—”
“Hold that thought,” I say, not keen on the guys freaking out about whatever this is. I grab my pack of cigarettes from the tray on the counter and nod toward the balcony, urging her to join me so we can talk in private. She follows me out, and once the door is clicked shut behind us, I settle into one of the metal chairs and kick my foot into the next seat, Gemma sitting across from me.
I light the smoke, and Gemma’s eyes narrow on me.
