“Is it just me or are you two acting weirder than usual?” Austin stares after her and raises his eyebrows.
“You’re one to talk, Mr. Houdini.”
“Touché.” Austin tips his chin. “Just don’t defile her in the park, okay?”
“We’re not—”
Austin holds a hand up and pushes past me to jog up the steps of the bus.
Whatever. I shake my head, not needing to explain myself to him or anyone. There’s nothing to tell. At least not yet. I have a feeling they’re going to flip out and in a good way after hearing Opal’s lyrics. If she even feels comfortable sharing. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. First step is putting music to her words.
I climb into the bus, relieved to find everyone settling back in for more sleep. They don’t pay us any attention as we grab the guitar and sneak back outside.
“Thanks. For not . . . I don’t even know whether I can do this. I’d feel like a complete fool if I told everyone what we’re doing and then choke under the pressure,” she says, holding up her notebook.
“I get it.” I point across the lot to the small park I spotted on our way to breakfast. There’s a picnic bench and plenty of trees to keep us cool for a few hours. I begin walking and she follows suit. “But first thing’s first. You can’t think about them, or anyone else for that matter. We’re gonna make a bunch of mistakes and it’s gonna feel stupid at first. That’s art. You have to put all those voices of doubt out of your head. Doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. This is between us and the music.”
“Easier said than done.” She laughs but it’s not carefree. “I’ll give it my best shot.” She climbs on the top of the table and opens her notebook, flipping through the pages.
“Okay, then.” I pop the case and pull out the guitar. The sleek polished wood is heavy in my hands. She looks up at me from beneath her lashes. Her wide eyes hold nervous anticipation, but I don’t miss the flicker of excitement in their depths. It’s the energy I embrace as I allow a smile to take over my face. “Half the battle’s getting started.”
* * *
“She’s morethan the small town,
a sweet face, her pretty hair.
She wasn’t looking for much,
but maybe one night of love.
He can’t stand his skin,
always moving to keep a nomad pace.
He wasn’t looking for her,
but fate intervened and took control.”
Glancing up at the movement from the corner of my eye, I find Trent, Sean, and Austin heading over. Not wanting Opal to stop, I continue to play as she belts out the chorus.
“She’s not running from her past,
Searching for a future to call home.
And for a few hours he’ll be hers.
She’ll be his even more.”
With her eyes shut, the music fucking shines from her soul. I sneak a look at the guys and they’re as shocked and impressed as I was when she started opening up.Opal can sing. Her voice is husky and deep, rougher than her wholesome exterior lets on. She opens her eyes after repeating the chorus, and the smile that takes over her face is my new favorite sight.
I tip my head toward the guys and Opal twists as they approach.
“What’cha two playing? I don’t recognize that one.” Sean struts the rest of the way to our place in the park.
“We’re writing it.” Opal drops her gaze, and her lips pull into a shy smile. “Or, really, Leighton is.”
“Don’t let her fool you. She’s been writing lyrics and keeping her brilliance from us.”
