Chapter Twenty
Bonnie
Bonnie’s phone rang while she was nursing a cup of coffee and pretending she wasn’t thinking about Vic for the tenth time that morning.
She didn’t recognize the number, but she answered anyway.
“Bonnie? This is Benny Jones from Occupy Yourself. Got a minute?”
Her stomach flipped.
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“We’re looking at adding some collaborative elements to the new record—layered guitars, some backing vocals, maybe a guest spot or two. Meg suggested you. Said you’d be perfect for a couple of tracks. You interested in coming in for a tryout?”
Bonnie stared at the wall, heart suddenly pounding.
Fuck.
Professional opportunity of a lifetime...colliding headfirst into the man she couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Yeah,” she said before her brain could talk her out of it. “I’m interested.”
***
She texted Meg before she could overthink it. *Got a call from OY. They want me to audition for some collaborative stuff on the new record. You put my name in the hat, but are you still cool with that?*
Her reply came faster than Bonnie expected. *Hell yes. You’d kill it. Go get it.*
Her fingers were shaking as she typed out, *You sure? With Vic this could get...complicated.*
*You’re already complicated, Bonnie. Do the audition. If needed, but you won’t need me, I’ve got your back.*
She stared at the screen for a long moment, throat tight. Then she typed the only thing she could manage.
*Thank you.*
***
The audition was at Slate’s home studio two days later.
Bonnie walked in carrying her favorite guitar in its case, chin up, armor firmly in place.
Benny, Mitty, Mercedes, and Vic were all there.
The moment her eyes landed on Vic, the air shifted.
He stared at her for a long moment that told her he didn’t know she was coming in, and then he gave her a small, quiet nod that made her stomach do stupid things.
She shut it down fast. Professional. Focused.
They ran her through three songs. Then three more.
She attacked every tune like she’d owned them forever.
Her guitar work was sharp, emotional, and intuitive.
When they asked her to layer backing vocals on the chorus of one of the new tracks, she nailed the harmony on the first try.
Mercedes nodded approvingly from the control room. Benny’s grin got wider with every pass.
She killed it.
Of course she did.
When they wrapped, the band was buzzing. Benny was already talking about which tracks they wanted her on. Mercedes gave her a fist bump and a quiet “Welcome to the circus.”
But Bonnie’s eyes kept drifting to Vic.
She needed to do one more thing before she could let herself breathe.
***
Vic
“You gonna be cool with me if this works out, Vic?” Bonnie spoke from behind him in the hallway leading to the bathroom.
“I nearly called but figured you wouldn’t let me pass through to this point unless you were down with the idea.
” He shuffled around to look at her and sighed.
Softly, Bonnie said, “Never thought he would spring me on you.”
He held his quiet for a moment, then told her, “Yeah, Bunny, I’m cool.” At the nickname, Bonnie sucked in a breath that sounded wounded and painful. “Sorry. I just...I’m... It’s okay, no worries.”
He absolutely wasn’t cool, but that must not have been clear because Bonnie said, “Right on. It’d be boss if you can do that. This means a lot, Vic.”
He grunted and stepped to the side, giving her a clear exit.
He stood in the hallway, waiting to see who’d been behind the door, listening. Benny stepped out a moment later. Their eyes met, and Vic could see the pain in Benny’s expression. Pain he was feeling on Vic’s behalf. He needed to reassure him before Benny spiraled.
“Know you heard. Need you to know this is cool, you doin’ this for Bonnie. She’s killer, and I couldn’t have picked better.” Vic swallowed hard, glancing away for a moment. “Small world, ya know?” Benny nodded, and Vic finished with “She’s a fit.”
“Yeah, she is.” They’d played for hours, and Vic hadn’t missed watching as Benny’s excitement grew higher and higher because Bonnie slid into place as if she’d always played with them.
She’d clearly done her homework to prepare, so she knew their songs, even knew their variations from watching online videos shot by fans. The only things tripping her up were the new layers added by Vic and Chase, but she’d found her way around those too.
“Fuckin’ kills, man.” Vic’s gaze was fixed on the toes of his boots. “Finding the one—” He paused, then continued. “—then finding out you aren’t hers.”
With that, he turned and padded up the hallway as the end door opened, the remaining sunlight bright and sharp after the dim interior.
***
Bonnie
She hung around until after the others finished packing up and leaving the studio, then caught Benny’s arm.
“Hey. Got a second?”
Benny nodded and followed her into the small side room off the studio. He closed the door behind them, looking curious.
“What’s up?”
Bonnie took a deep breath, heart hammering. “Before this goes any further...I need to tell you something.”
Benny waited.
“I’ve been involved with Vic,” she said plainly.
“It’s not casual anymore. Hell, it probably never was.
I’m just waiting for a chance to tell him.
To talk to him. I’ve been a fool, and I need to make up for it.
If that’s going to be a problem—if it messes with band dynamics or makes things weird—then count me out.
I’ll walk away from the collaboration right now. Vic matters more.”
Benny stared at her for a long moment, surprise flickering across his face. Then his expression softened into something almost fond.
“Damn,” he said quietly. “Anybody with eyes could see that one coming.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But no...it’s not a deal-killer. Not for me. Vic’s solid. One of the best things that’s happened to this band. If you two have something real, I’m not getting in the way of that.”
Relief flooded through her so fast her knees almost buckled.
Benny studied her for another second. “He’s in love with you, you know.”
Bonnie looked away. “Yeah. I know.”
“You gonna do anything about that?”
She let out a shaky laugh. “Working on it.”
Benny smiled—small, understanding. “Good. Because that man deserves someone who’s willing to fight for him.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m starting to figure that out.”
Later, Bonnie sat in the driver’s seat of her van outside Slate’s studio, engine off, windows rolled down to let the late-afternoon breeze cut through the heat.
Her hands still trembled slightly on the steering wheel.
The tryout had gone perfectly—the result of a couple of nights cramming for the test. She’d killed every track they threw at her, harmonized with Benny like they’d been singing together for years, and even managed to make him laugh during the bridge of the new six-minute epic.
Benny had given her that quiet, approving nod that meant more than any contract.
Mitty had already started talking tour logistics.
It should’ve felt like a win.
Instead, her stomach was in knots.
She pulled out her phone and opened the shared calendar she’d been staring at for the last two weeks.
Her band’s scattered club dates. OY’s tightening rehearsal and recording schedule.
The handful of festivals she’d been chasing for months.
And now—layered on top of all of it—the collaborative tracks and potential tour support slots with Occupy Yourself.
There was no way to make it all fit.
She tried again, dragging gigs around like puzzle pieces that refused to lock together.
A Thursday night in Louisville for her band overlapped with an OY tracking session in Nashville.
A weekend run through the Carolinas she’d booked six months ago slammed straight into the first leg of OY’s comeback dates.
Even if she handed off more shows to her guys, even if she begged Meg for a few favors, something would have to give.
She couldn’t run her own band, chase down the gigs that kept the lights on, show up for OY the way they deserved, and be with Vic.
Not all at once.
The realization settled heavy in her chest, sharp as a broken string.
Vic.
She could still feel the ghost of his hands on her skin from the last time they’d been together.
The way he’d looked at her today when he thought she wasn’t watching—steady, patient, like he was willing to wait forever if that’s what she needed.
He’d said he loved her, and she’d thrown him out like he was just another guy who didn’t understand the rules.
She missed him so much it hurt.
But missing him didn’t magically create more hours in the day.
It didn’t fix the fact that her band was already starting to fray at the edges because she was splitting herself in too many directions.
It didn’t change the reality that if she committed to OY the way they needed her to, her own career—the one she’d bled for since she was nineteen—would take a back seat. Again.
Bonnie leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
She was so fucking tired of choosing.
Tired of being the one who always had to make the hard calls, the one who held everyone else up for a gasp of air while pretending she wasn’t drowning.
For once she wanted to be selfish. She wanted the music and the man.
She wanted the late nights in the studio with Vic’s steady groove anchoring her and the mornings when she didn’t have to kick him out before the sun came up.
But wanting something and making it work were two different things.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Leo asking if she’d confirmed the next club date.
She stared at the screen until the words blurred.
She couldn’t do it all.
Not without something breaking.
And for the first time in her life, Bonnie wasn’t sure she had the strength left to decide what—or who—she was willing to lose.