Ben’s groan was painfully predictable. ‘Shit, man, do we really have to start on the next album right now? Seriously?’
‘We’re meant to be playing at the Songwriter Awards tomorrow,’ Wes pointed out. ‘Don’t you think we’d spend our time better practising the song we’ve picked to perform?’
‘I was thinking we could perform this new one instead,’ I replied steadily.
Ben swore under his breath.
‘We do not,’ Matt said firmly, ‘have time to write and learn a new song in just –’
‘It’s already written,’ I interjected, hating how desperately I wanted this, needed this. ‘All you’d have to do is learn –’
‘And then perform it on a stage before hundreds of people in the audience and millions streaming live?’ Ben snorted. ‘With less than twenty-four hours to practise. Bro, have you lost your mind?’
‘I think we should do it.’
Three heads turned towards Wes. His quiet way of speaking had always cut through the noisiness of Ben and Matt.
For the second time, Ben swore under his breath.
Wes shrugged. ‘I can’t think of a better way to get people’s attention. We’ve been hounded with questions about a new album for weeks.’
‘Yeah, but a completely new –’
‘Let’s hear it,’ Wes said, leaning back against the electric keyboard.
My stomach lurched as I picked up one of the session guitars from the rack. Despite my hopes, part of me hadn’t expected them to even want to hear it, and now it came to it … well. I wasn’t sure I felt prepared.
‘Need a key?’ Matt shot over.
I shook my head. ‘Nah, not for this.’
The last thing I needed was another instrument as a distraction. It was going to be hard enough getting this out at all.
Unlocking my phone and opening the finalized lyrics, I blew out a long breath.
There was nothing, almost nothing, more vulnerable than sharing a song for the first time. Even with my best friends.
‘OK, here we go,’ I muttered, mostly to myself.
The chords felt like home as I strummed the opening. Glancing at my phone was hardly necessary as I sang about the woman I’d managed to let get away.
Jessy Donovan.
Butterflies, it was butterflies the moment I first saw you
Coffee cup, looking up, seeing the world change in your eyes
The lyrics had poured out of me. That was, the linking lyrics had – most of the imagery I’d jotted down as our fake dates had turned into something so much more.
Ink my soul upon your heart if you love me too
Call me quick, lest you slip, through my fingers
It was one of the few songs I’d written with almost no edits. It hadn’t needed them.
And when we take over the world, and we will
Carve your joy, fuck the ploy, contract over
