“With cash!” Gavin announces loudly. “I just paid her with cash, Bluebird. I swear.”

Well, now I feel like an idiot.

I narrow my eyes at them both and Gavin holds his hands up. “I’m done with that life, Bluebird, done handling things that way. I told you that and I meant it.”

“He was extremely explicit in his conditions, Miss Lark. If that helps any,” Ashley says.

I sigh loudly. “Okay, well . . . good.”

Ashley stands to escort us both out. “If that’s all,” she begins, handing me back my money, “then I really need to get to my next—”

“That’s not all,” I break in. “I have another legal issue I’d like your help with.”

Both Ashley and Gavin appear confused by my outburst.

“Okay. What can I do for you?”

I take a deep breath and glance at Gavin and then back to her. “I want to become the legal guardian for an abused child. The one whose dad Gavin assaulted. I want to become his temporary guardian until they can find him someplace better to go. And if they can’t, then I want to become his permanent guardian.”

“Dixie?” Gavin gapes at me.

“Go big or go home. Right, Gav?”

26 | Gavin

EVERY MUSICIAN I’VE ever met has a ritual of some sort that they perform before they play. I’ve known some to have to drink out of certain cup, or eat a certain meal, or even sleep with a specific girl.

Ours are much less obvious, but we have them. Dallas paces. Before rehearsals and before shows. He paces and he visualizes the show and what could go wrong. I told him this was just another brand of worrying and stressing the hell out, but he swears by it.

Dixie sits and applies rosin to her bow.

Me, I like to watch Dixie while tapping out the beat of the first few songs on my knee.

I don’t even know that we realize that we do it, but we do. Every rehearsal, every performance. Same drill.

Except tonight’s rehearsal will be different because we’re fifteen minutes into our time slot and Dixie isn’t here yet.

Dallas is about two more ignored text messages from blowing a fuse when his sister finally comes through the back door.

“Sorry I’m late. Quick errand caused me to get stuck in traffic,” she says while pulling Oz out of his case.

“Dixie, we talked about this. I sent you about twenty-five messages about not being late and you—”

“You want to have this fight on paid rehearsal space time, Dallas?” She lifts her bow to the strings and stares her brother down. “Or can it wait until we’re finished?”

Well, then.

I don’t wait for Dallas’s approval. I take my cue from Dixie and count down the song we agreed on playing first at the battle of the bands.

Dallas overplays his part a bit out of anger, but by the second run-through he’s calmed down.

I’m guessing we should’ve told him about Liam so he’d be a little more understanding about Dixie being late, but then I’m not sure it was Liam who caused her to be late. Though I suspect she was meeting with Sheila after meeting with Ashley. I guess Dallas and I aren’t the only ones with secrets.

When we get to the end of rehearsal, we have to decide on an original song. There’s only one I want to hear.

Dallas is getting out our list of ones we’ve written but I know the one we should play isn’t on there.

I look over at Dixie. “Can you play the one you wrote recently?”

“The one I wrote on my arms?” She gives me a perplexed look as if I was just supposed to forget. “It’s not even finished.”

“Can you play us what you have so far? Maybe we can finish it together,” Dallas chimes in. Clearly he’s pretty curious about her burst of inspiration as well.

Dixie rubs the toe of her boot across the stained carpet. “I can. I don’t know that it’s much to work with, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

Dallas nods and we both wait patiently as she lifts her fiddle and prepares to play.

“Here goes nothing,” she says softly. “I call it ‘Draw the Line.’ ”

The room falls silent, then she begins to play Oz in a melodic trance that pulls us immediately into the music.

You say so many things. Tell me I still have to wait.

But what you don’t know, is what you don’t know.

No matter what you tell me to do,

I’ll keep holding on to you.

I know lonely, like an old familiar friend.

I know the pain, the way you keep it all in.

I know you don’t know it, but you’ve done your time.

We’ve already paid the price.

I know one day that you’ll be mine,

But until then,

I have to draw the line.

You’re the addiction and I’m afflicted.

You’re the sand in the hourglass of time.

You’re so many things,

Just say you’ll be mine.

Loving someone, loving so much it hurts,

Love until you can’t, love until it gets worse.

I know one day that you’ll be mine,

But until then,

I have to draw the line.

Where does the line go?

Oh, I don’t know. How will I ever know?

I’ll just have to follow wherever it goes.

It crosses the ocean, spanning wider than the sea,

It twists and turns and always ends

Just before you reach me.

I know lonely, like an old familiar friend.

I know the pain, the way you keep it all in.

Maybe you don’t realize, but you’ve done your time.

We’ve already paid the price.

I know one day that you’ll be mine,

But until then,

I have to draw the line.

“So that’s all I have,” she announces, cutting the music off abruptly.

Dallas and I just stare at her, dumbfounded by her talent. Her words pierced the air and inked themselves onto my heart. She doesn’t need either of us; this girl is a star all on her own. I don’t know why she’s allowed herself to remain hidden behind the band, behind Oz, but she’s incredible.

And she’s mine.

And I’m hers.

My pulse throbs as if the music is still playing and I am in motion.

“You should step outside, Dallas,” I tell him urgently. “Like now.”

I walk around my kit and make a beeline for her.

“Seriously, Garrison? What the—”

I don’t hear the rest of his complaint because Dixie is in my arms and her mouth is on mine and Dallas can deal.

Dixie responds eagerly, her mouth moving rhythmically against mine before opening and allowing me inside.

We kiss until we have to come up for air. My hands wander over every inch of her skin before tangling in her hair.

“That song,” I say between mouthfuls of her. “It was about me?”

“It was about us, Gavin. Everything is about us. I don’t know how to make you see—”

“I do, baby,” I say before trailing kisses down her neck. “I do see.”

After forcing ourselves to get through rehearsal, Dixie and I end up falling into her bed.

“Tell me what you want, Bluebird,” I say while looking down into her beautiful blue eyes. They are so warm and trusting as they stare unflinchingly up at me.

“You,” she answers softly. “All I’ve ever wanted or needed is you, Gavin. Just you.”

“You have me,” I tell her as I lower myself down into her. Clutching her to me, I drag us both up to the head of the bed. Tongues and flesh collide as our clothes become distant memories and the promise of what is to come burns bright between us.

I lace my fingers in hers and use our hands to brace myself above her. “Oh God, Gavin,” she cries out as I sink in completely.

I run the tip of my tongue up her throat. “Right here, baby. Always. I’m right here.” I kiss her delicate earlobe gently and then slide several more kisses across her jawline.