Unwritten (Woodlands 5)

Oh, right. No touching his sister. But he’s going to find out at some point, because she and I aren’t a one-time deal. I’m not going to hide in dark, secret places every time I want to make her come. Landry’s the one who I see my future with.

She’s smart, honest, and doesn’t only want to be with me because I’m a musician. I can talk with her for hours without a single awkward silence, and I can’t see that ever changing. When I look at her, I see a future full of laughter and easy conversation. And yeah, sex. Lots and lots of sex.

“I don’t think that lying to him and sneaking around behind his back is the right thing to do. I don’t mind talking to him.”

She grabs my arm, pulling me to a stop. “I don’t want to lie to him, either, but there’s no reason we have to rush out and plaster it all over the side of the bus. You said yourself that this band has something special. That’s why you agreed to this tour, recruited Davis, and why you’re turning down this big deal commercial thing.”

And there it is. I hate when my arguments are used against me. I place my hand over hers. “Davis knows this band is special, too. He quit his job and he won’t give up simply because you and me have gotten close.”

Landry glances toward the bus and back to me, her beautiful features drawing tight. “Davis is a hothead. The minute he found out about Marrow, he went and beat the guy up. He didn’t think about the consequences for a second.”

“That’s what you’re basing your worry on? I’d have done the same thing.”

She drops her hand from my arm. “Ugh, you guys. Violence is not the answer. It didn’t stop Marrow from stalking me. Instead Davis got thrown in jail and Dad had to pay a lot of money in legal fees to get the charge reduced from a felony to a misdemeanor.”

“I doubt Davis was sorry for standing up for you. I sure as hell wouldn’t be.”

“Does standing up always have to include your fists?”

“Sometimes it does.”

She shakes her head in dismay. “You once told me that you know things. You know when songs will be hits. That Threat Alert is likely a one-hit wonder. That this band has magic and the potential to be great. I want that for you. I want that for Davis.” As I absorb this, she adds, “I’m not going to be here in another month. Let’s wait until I go and then we’ll tell him. Four weeks. That’s all I’m asking. Four weeks for you to build your conne

ction to each other.”

Four weeks? My mind balks at this. “There’s no reason for you to leave the tour after two months.”

“My parents will be back by then.”

“So?”

“So the danger of me being alone will be gone.”

“Again, so? You should stay with us the entire tour.” She’s part of the band now, in some strange way.

“You know I can’t.”

“I don’t know a damn thing.”

As we get closer to the bus, Davis waves us over. He has a guitar on his lap. “You two okay?” he calls out.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?” Landry laughs lightly. “Aren’t we?” she asks, and she’s not merely asking if we’re all right, but whether I’m buying into her subterfuge.

“Is this an ultimatum?” I say quietly.

“No. It’s a request.”

I pull a cigarette out of my pocket and jam it into my mouth. At this rate, I’m going to be smoking a carton a day and dying of lung cancer before the end of the tour.

“We’re fine,” I say as we reach him.

“You guys looked like you were in an intense discussion.”

Is that suspicion in his voice?

“I was telling Landry we should stay in a hotel tonight. Get out of the bus and get a decent night’s sleep.”

Davis perks up. “Hotel, huh? That’d be awesome. Not that the bus isn’t great,” he hurries to assure me. “Can we afford it?”