The vegetarian chili tasted as good as it smelled, and I allowed myself to sink into the comforting sensations of cumin, paprika, and other spices. The cornbread was soft and fluffy, with a bit of a grainy feel.
“So, Ivy’s pregnant,” my mom stated calmly.
The cornbread turned to ash in my mouth in the span of a second. “Come again?”
“She’s six months into the pregnancy, and she was too afraid to tell you herself, so she asked us to break the news.”
My spoon clattered on the wooden picnic table. “I honestly don’t know what to say.”
Dad’s gaze met mine. “I’d imagine congratulations are in order.”
“Just to make sure, the asshole is the father?”
“If by ‘asshole’ you mean her fiancé, then yes.”
I was going to kill that fucker.
“Before you say something you’ll regret,” my mom interjected, raising her palm to silence the words halfway out of my mouth, “we should let you know we visited them in LA a few months ago and had a lovely time. I don’t know what he was like when you met him all those years ago, but I can assure you that he is a perfectly decent man who is very obviously in love with our daughter.”
“Decent?” I barked. “I highly doubt it.”
My dad sighed. “Cole, Ivy is twenty-two. She’s not a child anymore. I can appreciate that as an older brother you feel protective about her, but I can assure you she’s well taken care of.”
My thoughts raced to the image of my sister and that bastard backstage at our show all those years ago. There was no way a guy like that could change enough to be suitable for her. Finding out they were dating threw me for a loop, and when they got engaged soon after, I told Ivy she was making a huge mistake. She countered by saying I could forget about seeing her until I learned to accept her fiancé. I wasn’t worried, sure their engagement would fall apart just like mine, but it’s been almost a year since that conversation and now she was pregnant.
I shook my head. “I’m going to visit her. I need to see this for myself.”
My mom pursed her lips. “I thought you’d say that. Ivy will be pleased to see you, I’m sure, but you have to promise to keep an open mind. Listen to their story.”
“I saw how their story started,” I snapped. “I was right fucking there.”
“Well, then you should be happy that your decision to bring her on tour resulted in her meeting the love of her life. Because that’s what he is, Cole. Whether you like it or not.”
Suddenly, my appetite was gone. I knew my parents were smart people and fully believed in the validity of what they were saying, but they weren’t there in the beginning. They hadn’t seen this fucker put his hands on my younger sister while I was supposed to be watching over her.
The chair scraped the ground as I stood up.
“I’m done,” I said and saw their faces fall.
“Cole—”
“I just need to process the news,” I cut my dad off. “I’m sure I’ll be thrilled for her very soon.” I sincerely doubted that.
My bedroom was on the second floor, and I lay down on the bed to stare at the ceiling. My gaze caught on the triangular scrap of paper that was taped up there, and I immediately knew what it was.
Years ago, there’d been a picture taped there. A photo of me and Amy on stage during the last show of our tour. I’d proposed to her that night, and that picture was the only one we’d taken that evening. When we came back to River Valley the following week, we’d stayed in this room and in this bed for so much time that she’d joked I should tape something interesting to look at on the ceiling. I’d taped up that photo of us, telling her that I wouldn’t mind waking up and going to sleep seeing her beautiful face.
A month later, I’d torn the photo down.
7
ADELINE
Ireturnedto the studio the next day empty-handed. The SUV wasn’t in the parking lot, but there was a white Jeep, a truck, and a Tesla. Something told me the Tesla belonged to Abel. Beautiful and untouchable.
The guys were waiting for me in the studio when I walked inside. After some scattered greetings, Cole shot a look at Abel, and the lead singer rolled his eyes. He stood up from his chair and took a few steps toward me, his green eyes fixed on me with a focused intensity. A part of me was curious what words had been exchanged after I had left the day before. Then again, another part of me was sure it was none of my business.
He cleared his throat, as if steeling himself for the words that were about to come out. “I apologize for yesterday,” he said in a neutral voice. I couldn’t read him, couldn’t even hope to know if he was being sincere or not, but I held his gaze, nonetheless.
