Fused (Lost in Oblivion #4.5) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott Page A

anyone. Bad enough he even thought stupid, pathetic shit like that.
    Truth was, he had no idea if her husband had anything to do with what had happened. He didn’t have a clue. As much as he’d tried to hold back and pretend he could wait her out, he needed to know. Even if it was a shit reason, he had to have one.
    It wasn’t like he’d busted up that stage and ruined her event. He’d done his fucking job, as much as he hadn’t wanted to. But something had happened between band rehearsal that day and Simon’s breakdown. Maybe it wasn’t her husband at all. Maybe it was that smug, pompous ass Donovan, trying to make her life difficult.
    “I don’t believe that.” Gently, Ricki laid a hand on his arm. “She wouldn’t be texting you if that was so.”
    “We work together. She has to talk to me for band stuff.”
    “So that was band stuff?”
    He frowned again. “Well, no, not exactly. She wanted my opinion.”
    “Ah ha! See, she totally values your brain, which is way more important than her just thinking you’re a stud muffin. Which you probably are, though of course to me, that seems patently impossible. But we do share a gene pool and I happen to be fabulous.”
    He had to laugh when she pretended to fluff her hair. “Guess we share a flair for modesty too.”
    “Well, duh.”
    His phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced at the screen.
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    L S : Band’s called Warning Sign. Think I’m going to sign them.
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    N C : Good. You should. They’re incredible.
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    O ne glance at Ricki’s encouraging smile made him indulge the devil on his shoulder.
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    N C : But not as good as me.
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    W hen she hadn’t replied by the time he and Ricki picked up the guitars again, he figured he’d overplayed his hand. Shocker. He tended to do that oh, always.
    He led Ricki into “Yesterday”, another one of their mother’s favorite songs, and as he strummed, focused on his own fingers moving through the chords so he wouldn’t focus on hers. If she didn’t want to do this, he wouldn’t force her. His goal was to give her something to concentrate on other than her addiction, maybe even remind her of the good times associated with playing in her past. It was a long shot, but what wasn’t in his life at the moment?
    They laughed about her fumbling through the bridge on “Yesterday” and he started singing the lyrics to help her find her way through it. Not that he remembered every word, but he recalled more than he expected.
    She tilted her head, a soft smile curving her lips. “You never sing anymore.”
    As soon as she spoke, he fell silent. He continued strumming out of habit more than desire. “I’m not a singer.”
    “Your voice is perfectly fine. You’ve just decided what box you fit in, and you refuse to move outside of it.”
    “Want to change songs?”
    “Your way of changing the subject. Got it.” She sighed and tapped her bright green thumbnail on the body of her guitar. “Hmm, want to try ‘Instant Karma’?”
    “Jeez, you remember that too?”
    She jerked a shoulder. “You know how Mama was with The Beatles and John Lennon songs. I’m not sure I remember actually, but you’ll help me out, right?”
    He returned her smile. “Of course.” His phone buzzed in his pocket but he fought to ignore it. To not even react. “Why don’t you play up until you don’t remember anymore, and I’ll jump in?”
    “Hello, she texted you back. Don’t ignore her.”
    “I’m not ignoring her, I’m trying to not act like a douche.”
    “Too late there.” She laughed, one of the best sounds in the world as far as he was concerned. “But answer her anyway.”
    “If you insist.” He fumbled out his phone, then read and re-read Lila’s message three times before it sank in.
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    L S : You’re right. No one is. But we do what we must. What are you doing right now?
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    H e started to reply that he was free, but a quick glance at his sister put the kibosh on that quick. Her cheeks were