Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Nash
M y phone vibrating on the coffee table and overly loud music on the television woke me from a deep sleep. My eyes skimmed past the clock on the wall. I was sure it said 2:30. I assumed since it was still dark outside that meant 2:30 in the morning and not afternoon. Soft hair brushed my arm, and I woke up fully. I was slumped back on the couch, and Layla was sleeping soundly with her head in my lap. There was an empty pizza box on the coffee table. The evening was coming back to me. Layla and I had spent the whole afternoon and evening together, mostly talking about family, future dreams, childhood embarrassments. We ordered a pizza and binged a marathon of old comedy movies. We were so comfortable in each other’s company that at some point during an Abbott and Costello movie, we both dozed off.
I rested my head back, not wanting to wake Layla. She moaned softly and curled herself deeper under the blanket I’d carried out from the bedroom. My phone buzzed again, and I startled, obliterating my plan not to wake her. A text in the middle of the night was never good news.
Layla stretched and yawned, then sat up suddenly. “Oh jeez, did we fall asleep?”
“We did.”
Layla stayed cocooned in the blanket as she sat back on the sofa.
I reached for my phone. My heart rate had jumped into overdrive. I was relieved to see it was a text from Ronnie and not Becky.
“Is everything all right,” Layla asked.
“It’s from Ronnie, which is weird at this hour.”
Layla looked across to the clock. “Oh wow, it’s the middle of the night. I guess none of my sisters are home, otherwise they’d have called me.”
I opened the text. “Call me if you’re up. I just opened an email from Concord Records, and you’re going to want to hear what they have to say.” I stared at the text, trying to decide if I wanted to call her. It was late, and my head wasn’t on straight enough to hear about business deals.
“Is Ronnie okay?” Layla asked.
“Yeah, just something about an email from a record company.”
Layla finally emerged from her blanket shell. “Maybe it’s about the new song.”
I nodded. “Could be.”
She wrapped her arm around mine and cuddled closer. “You don’t sound excited about that.”
“I don’t know. The band seems finished. Bosco and I are never going to make good bandmates again. I only hope we’ll be able to salvage our friendship once Moonstone is in the past.”
“I can sense it’s over for you whenever you talk about the band. Are you going to call her? Wait, why is she still up?”
“Ronnie is one of those people who can survive on four hours sleep. She stays up late and gets up early, and she’s always energetic and ready to go.”
“Lucky her.” Layla stretched and made a cute little sound effect to go with it. “Isla always says she wishes she had twenty-six hours in a day.” Layla looked over at me with a questioning brow.
“Right, guess I’ll give Ronnie a call.”
“I need a drink of water. I’ll give you some privacy, and after the call you can walk me home—if that’s all right.”
“Of course.”
Layla walked to the kitchen, and I called Ronnie.
“You’re up. I wasn’t expecting you to call this late,” Ronnie said. She sounded wired as if she’d been drinking espresso.
“What’s up?”
“Concord Records wants to buy the rights to ‘Couldn’t Love you More.’ They just signed Sugar Ivy, and they’re in need of song material. Their agent thought your song could take them to the top of the charts. They offered three million, and we’d still retain the rights for three months. So, we could add the song to our site and earn off it until then. What do you think? Seems like a good deal.”
“Yeah, it’s a really good deal.”
Layla politely stood in the kitchen and sipped her water. I waved for her to come back to the couch. I wanted her near me again. She tiptoed back in her sweet attempt to not disturb the conversation. She pulled her copper hair back, tied it in a loose knot and sat down next to me. It reminded me that the song was for her. How would she feel about me selling it off to another band? How would I feel about it?
“Let me sleep on it, Ronnie. I’ll call you in the morning. Have you mentioned anything to Bos and Seth?”
“Not yet. I figured this was really all on you. It’s your song.”
“Thanks. I’ll get back to you in the morning.” I hung up and put the phone down.
Layla brought her feet up and beneath her on the couch. She tugged the blanket around her once more. “Was it good news? I’m trying to read you right now. It looks like someone knocked the wind out of you, but I can’t tell if that’s good or bad.”
“A record company offered to buy the rights to the song for three million dollars.”
Her lips turned down in a frown.
“Right. It’s the song I wrote for you, so I won’t sell it.”
“It’s not that. I assume it means Moonstone will go on to be a major band with round the world tours and round the world groupies, and you’ll forget about your dog walker in Whisper Cove.”
“No, that’s not what buying the rights means.”
There was nothing cuter than Layla looking puzzled. “So, you won’t be big rock stars?”
“Nope, thank goodness. Don’t get me wrong, twenty-year-old me wanted nothing more, but even being just a well-known local band is draining. The company wants the song for this new up-and-coming band called Sugar Ivy. We’ll get to keep the song up on our site for three months and then it’ll come down, and the new band will get to record it for their first album.”
I turned to face her on the couch and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “But I wrote that song for you, so if you don’t want us to sell it, that’s fine.”
Layla’s brows bunched together, perturbed. “Just what kind of a selfish princess do you think I am?” She tilted her head side to side. “Okay, admittedly, I am occasionally a princess. But you need that money for your mom and sister. You’ve got to sell it, Nash. It’ll solve so many problems and give your mom her life back.”
I pulled her into my arms. “You are something else, Layla Lovely. Princess Layla Lovely.”
“Besides, you’ll just have to write me another song.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
“I hate to say it—” she said.
“Then don’t.” I tightened my arms around her. “I don’t want to let you go tonight. I saw you standing in the kitchen. I ached to have you next to me, and you were only ten feet away.”
“Then I guess it’s lucky I live right next door.” She laughed. “I just realized I’ve fallen for the boy next door.”
“Trust me, Layla, he’s fallen hard for you, too.”