Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

I stop playing.

Davis and Rudd halt, too.

“What is it?” Rudd asks. “Too fast, wasn’t it?”

I’ve only known Landry for a short time. It’s only been a couple months since I first laid eyes on her, but didn’t I have that gut feeling way back then that she was my destiny? That I was done with all other women? I write songs about love at first sight all the time, but I never really believed in that shit until the night I met Landry.

And my feelings for her only grew stronger the more I got to know her. She’s smart as a whip. I mean, hell, I look at that computer code she writes. Gibberish to me, but she makes magic—and money—with it. She’s gorgeous, adventurous in bed, and sometimes out of it when she lets her guard down. She’s loyal to her brother, her friends, even strangers.

She’s just…amazing. And yeah. I love her.

“Adam?” Ian prompts.

“No. It wasn’t too fast. It was just right.”

I pick up my guitar and change the tune. I pluck out a few notes, dropping in a G chord followed by E minor, fingering the E root note with my right thumb. I love those minor triads with the perfect fifth. Davis isn’t sure what I’m playing but is game. He sets his thumb against the bass and starts moving the rest of his fingers along the treble strings.

Can he hear what I’m hearing? That this is the melody for his song. The one he wrote about second chances and feeling hope again, how he was

going to bust open the cracks until all he saw was light. And I play it slow, with feeling.

“Is this…” Davis trails off. He recognizes the words, but I think the notes are speaking to him, too. He starts cutting the third note short, a little Ed Sheeren-esque, but I like it. Rudd joins in, pulling on the bass.

But it’s Ian understands completely. I’m not just playing this song for Davis. I’m playing it for Landry. I’m inviting her and everything she loves into all parts of my life. Because you can’t be an island of one when you have a band—or a family. Ian shakes his head in rueful acceptance. He has Berry, so he knows that once you’re caught, you’re caught. There’s nothing to do but enjoy the ride.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Adam

“Can I talk to you?” I ask quietly.

Landry hesitates, and I fucking hate that. Before our fight, she would’ve been on her feet immediately.

“I’m chatting with Mike.”

I cast a quick glare in the direction of Threat Attack’s manager. While I know he’s gay, he’s got a dick and it spends way too much time in close quarters with Landry. I keep my crazy-headed jealousy to myself, though. For the most part.

“Please?” I’m not too proud to beg. At least, I shouldn’t be. That’s my big problem. That I’m too arrogant. I know this. That’s where my temper comes from—this feeling that I always know what’s right and good for everyone. I press her again. “I need to apologize to you, and I want to do it right.”

“All right.” She leans over and gives Mike a kiss. “Talk to you later.”

“Holler if you need me,” he says.

Fuck that. She doesn’t need protection from me. I open my mouth, but Landry slaps a hand against my chest before I can make an ass of myself.

“Down, boy,” she mutters.

I follow her as she weaves her way through the crowd. The fire’s died off; we didn’t have much kindling in the first place. She settles her ass on the bumper and waits. I pace back and forth for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. On my return, a cigarette appears in front of me.

“I think Ian left it for you. And you need it.”

“I’m trying to quit,” I tell her, looking at the cancer stick with longing.

“Maybe not tonight.”

Sighing, I pluck it from her fingers and pull a lighter out of my pocket. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Okay. I’ll hold you to it.”