“Oh no, not you, too,” I complain.
“I mean… it wouldn’t be the worst idea,” she says.
“I like my apartment. It’s my cozy space.”
“Except it’s no longer yoursafespace,” she argues. “Just think about it. No one is forcing you to do anything. However, if you decide to, I can have Kade and Liam move you in a day, and I hear there’s a space here that would be perfect.”
I sigh as she starts to open the door. “Are you sure it wasn’t just some burglar trying to get in?”
“No,” she admits.
“What about a creeper looking for my underwear to sniff? Or even sell online,” I suggest. “I heard you can make good money doing that.”
“Well, at least you know you have a backup gig if the band were to break up,” she replies.
She opens the sliding door and smirks at me over her shoulder, and for the first time since I was nineteen, butterflies swarm my stomach, and I have to hold my breath just to push away the sinking feeling that invades after.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
BONNIE
By the timewe’re ready for our defense class, we’ve worked through an entire song, ready to lay down the tracks tomorrow afternoon. I haven’t stopped sneaking glances at Gemma as she pounds on her keyboard and sips a strawberry kombucha at the bar while Liam and Kade set up a gaming room in our theater.
“This shit is going to blow people’s minds,” I say, sitting back and tucking my knees under me. “I know we said that about the last album, but the added strings and shit… fuck, man. I can’t wait to hear it all come together.”
“I sent Jaime the track from yesterday, so they were getting in the studio today to play. Should have something by the time you guys get back from your class,” Mads says about the string players we hired to collaborate on this record.
“Hey,” Reed says, looking up from his phone. “Andi’s asking about time for dinner. The sushi guy just showed up at your door.”
“Damn, he’s early,” Mads says. He jerks his chin Zeb’s way, who also has his phone out. “You texting your trainer?”
“Yeah,” Zeb answers. “Says he can be at the gym in twenty. We’ll only be there for an hour or so, so long as Gemma doesn’t put one of us in the hospital.”
“I heard my name,” she says from the counter. She closes her laptop and tucks it into her bag, swiveling to look at us. “What’s up?”
“What have you been working so hard on today?” Mads asks her.
“Notes. Emails. A little shopping,” she says with a shrug.
“Did you buy us something pretty?” Reed asks, smiling against the rim of his drink.
“Yeah, a muzzle,” she tells him, and Reed grins.
“You’re joking, but my wife is out of town, and I do enjoy pet play, so…” He lifts a brow, and Gemma presses her lips together as if fighting a smile. “I mean, you’d have to get permission from her first, but she’d likely enjoy photos of me in a muzzle and contained in a crate.”
“I would also like to see that,” I say. “It can be my new phone background.”
“Picking little pieces of kibble off the dirty floor,” Mads teases him.
“What do you have as your background now?” Zeb asks me. “The hot trackstar chick?”
I laugh, avoiding Gemma’s gaze. “No,” I say. “It’s of Anita and Zero wearing the Summerween pumpkin headbands I got them.”
“I love that picture,” Reed says. “We have it on a canvas in the hall. Can we have them as the album cover artwork?”
I laugh. “You want to put your dogs on the album cover?”
“That would be funny,” Zeb says. “Dress them in horror movie costumes.”
