Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

“We were talking about the song I just wrote,” my brother says. His chin is out and his tone is challenging.

Adam doesn’t take the bait. “I like the lyrics.”

“I’m excited to hear it,” I pipe up.

Adam cocks his head and studies the two of us. “Davis should play it for you.”

There’s an almost audible grinding of teeth before Davis says, “Wish I could but I don’t have the melody.”

Adam shrugs. “It’s there. You should tease it out.”

Davis’s frame stiffens until he’s rigid as a board. “I’m going to get something to eat.” He stomps out, no doubt wishing he could slam the door behind him.

I wait until the door shuts before turning to Adam. “What’s that all about?”

“Davis wrote some lyrics and now it’s time for him to write the music.”

“He’s never written music before. Not real stuff he’s played in public.”

“Then it’s probably time.”

I furrow my brow. “What game are you playing here? You could whip out a melody in a heartbeat. I know you write hit songs.”

“So?”

“So. Write one for Davis.”

“Then it wouldn’t be Davis’s song anymore,” Adam says. “It’d be mine.”

“Why isn’t it the band’s song?”

Adam bends forward, reaching across to grab one of my cold hands in his. “Because that’s not how it works. Davis wrote this song because he wants to hear his music on television, not because it means something to him. If it moved him, he’d hear the melody, too.”

“That’s a pompous thing to say.” I pull my fingers away and tuck them under my legs.

He slowly withdraws. “It’s the truth.”

We sit in complete silence for a long, awkward moment. Finally he says, “Is this going to be a problem? Because for me, the band thing is separate from what you and I are doing.”

I’m too chicken to ask what that is and too weak to tell him that I’m not interested in him any longer.

“No. It’s not a problem,” I say.

I don’t know whether that’s the truth or a lie.

“Good.” He gives me a heart melting smile. “Because last night was the best night of my life. I can’t wait to repeat it.”

I rub my lips together and squeeze my thighs tight. “Me, too.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Adam

“Are you kidding me with that?” I growl under my breath as I follow Landry down the hall.

“I distinctly remember you saying I should wear skirts more,” she teases.

Good Christ, it’s a miracle I can even walk. I avert my gaze from the long legs on full display underneath the way-too-short skirt. My eyes spot a staff-only door. Instantly I come to a halt and grab her arm.