Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(39)

When we’re secured in the massive foyer, Rachel and Monica head upstairs, while Bo takes Regan to the studio.

I call after Rae and Monica, “I’ll be up in a minute, guys. I want to see Regan’s face when he sees the studio.” Ignoring their

faces, I follow the guys downstairs.

When I get to the studio, Bo has Regan in the control room. The last time I was in this room, Bo played the song he’d written for

his parents. I glance at the piano, but there’s no music there.

“Ember,” Regan speaks through the mic, “why don’t you show Bo that song Josh was helping you with. Bo, she can use your guitar,

right?”

“That won’t be necessary,” I hold up my hands, “I haven’t practiced it much—”

Regan cuts me off, “It’s good, Ember.”

“I’d like to hear it,” Bo clears his throat. “Guitar’s over there.”

Come on!

Bo nods toward his guitar, and I nervously walk over and pick it up. Josh has helped me tinker with the lullaby that Bo worked

on...for me. We’re working on a second verse. I’m scared shitless to play it right now, but decide quickly that I need to. It’s

my song, damn it.

I look into Bo’s eyes as I start strumming, and watch his lips part as he takes a seemingly shocked breath. The first part of the

verse is a carry-over of something Bo had written, and a small grin pulls at the corners of his mouth as I nail it. I look to the

floor as a tougher part approaches, and I stumble over it. Twice.

Great. Shit.

When I look up, I see Bo walking toward me. His brow is slightly furrowed but he still has the cautious grin on his face.

“That kind of chord transition is tricky. Good, but tricky. You’re over thinking it— I can see it on your face. Try this.” Bo

moves to my side and places his left hand over mine. “See, normally you’d want to use this finger for the chord, but in order to

accomplish that transition, it’s OK to use this finger here.” I go numb as he effortlessly moves my fingers around the strings.

My heartbeat pounds through my lips. I look at Regan, who is staring back at me with intensity. With my pulse increasing, I audibly

inhale to try to slow it down.

Bo looks at me out of the corner of his eye and suddenly pulls his hands away. “Try that.”

Despite the way he smells and how his hands felt against mine, I’m able to play. I flawlessly pull off the chord transition that’

s tripped me up for a week straight.

Regan hoots from behind the glass, “Yes! Perfect!”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I slide the strap over my head. “I’ve gotta get up to the girls.”

His hand slips over mine as he takes his guitar back. “Any time.” The smile’s gone.

I force a smile and race out of the studio and up two flights of stairs to reach Rae’s room.

“Ember, I’m sorry,” Rae says as if she didn’t notice my eight-minute absence. “I didn’t think about how this might be weird

for you ...getting ready here.” She stares into herself while she pumps mascara over her already impossibly long eyelashes.

“Oh, sure you did, Rae, don’t protect her. She’s being an ass.” Monica glides gloss over her pouty lips, nearly cheek-to-cheek

with Rae.

A bad taste infiltrates my mouth.

“What the f*ck, Monica?” Between whatever the hell just happened in the studio, and her bad attitude, I’ve about had it with her

shit.

Rae looks between Monica and me through the mirror.

“You’re in love with him, Ember. The past few weeks have only made that more clear. Your face lights up whenever he walks in a

room and falls when he’s not in the room you thought he’d be. The reason why it was so hot and heavy at the beginning is because

it is the real deal. Nothing you do with Adrian Turner is going to change that.” Her betrayal is instantly evident to her as her

cheeks redden deeper than the blush she started applying.

Rae swallows hard, forces the most uncomfortable smile I’ve ever seen, and heads into her room.

“Thanks a lot, Mon,” I huff as I turn to follow Rae.

I find Rae shoving hangers from left to right in her closet, seemingly without purpose.

“Rae ...what Monica said about Adrian ...” I sit on the edge of her bed.

“No, Ember, it’s fine. I saw you two holding hands after our first meeting, and I didn’t think it was anything. I didn’t think

you’d move on—” She cuts herself off, shrugs and turns toward me with glistening eyes. My stomach slides away. “I’ve seen it

too, you know. The past few weeks, the way your face changes when Bowan’s around. It gave me hope, I guess.”

I find myself scanning every conversation Bo and I have had with an audience. We’ve been professional, but that doesn’t mean eyes

and smiles cooperate.

“It’s not about moving on, Rae.” Why am I defending myself here? “Shit, you know, maybe I should just go home—I can pay you

for my ticket.”

“That’s bullshit, November, don’t do that. I know Bo hurt you. I was just hoping that by now he would have proven that he didn’