Chapter 7 Wren #2
I’m about to ask him if his boyfriend is ok, when fingers creep over my shoulder from behind, and I shudder on instinct.
“Wrenny baby, are you going to sing a song for me?” Willow asks, attempting to attach herself but I manage to slide out of her touch.
Placing space between us, I can’t help but glare because she’s acting weird again.
The conversation we had in the library wasn't the first time; it’s an addition to many and I’m practically pleading at this point for her to leave me alone.
Her behaviour reminds me of Lily, who I haven’t even touched, but always tries to desperately sink her teeth into me when no one's around. I feel slightly relieved that I’ve been left alone by her so far today, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen the hostile way she’s looked at Robin whenever we've spoken.
She is nowhere to be seen, so I move around the group to stand next to her.
Before coming downstairs for the party, I put off getting dressed after a shower, to read a little of Robin’s debut novel.
I’d gotten quarter of the way through, unable to stop devouring each page, but reluctantly I’d gotten dressed and gone downstairs, only to collide into her.
I swear there's a force in the house that is constantly bringing us together.
“That was so good. I didn't know you could sing.” I tell her, trying to focus on anything but her gorgeous caramel eyes.
A smirk dances on her lips. “I’m sorry, guess it didn't come up in those two conversations we’ve ever had.”
Four but who's counting. Fuck. Me—I'm counting.
I give my blazer that she's wearing a light tug so she has to take a step towards me, bopping her nose with my finger. “Don’t be a little shit, Wife.”
Her full lips pop open and I can’t contain my laugh, it starts from deep in my chest and leaves a satisfying buzz there. Tilting my head lower, I gently tug again on the material. She really does look cute wearing my clothing.
"No seriously Robin, your voice is really beautiful. It's like—fuck. You're really good." My cheeks sting a little and I'm rattled with this unfamiliar feeling, like I just opened myself a slither, handed her a piece of me and now I’m waiting in case I need to slam myself shut.
An earnest smile brightens her features, and I know she's not meaning to lean into me, but she is. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."
My head leans lower. "From me?" I really try, but I can’t hide my smug smile, because that means she does know who I am. Hell, I bet she’s listened to our music too.
She can pretend to be a hater all she wants—distance herself from me, but call me fucking Zoltar because I know she’s interested in me too.
Before I can put less space between us, test where her boundary is at pushing me away, glittery fingers grab me by the shoulder and the rush of my surroundings come back.
I feel like someone just plucked me out of a warm bath I was content to drown in.
"C'mon superstar, let's go make some sweet, sweet music." Phin teases.
Reluctantly letting go of her, I push him, forever cringing inside at his terrible sense of humour that I'd secretly never give up anything for. "Why are you the way you are?" I’m not expecting any real sort of answer, because it's not a real question.
"Childhood trauma." Him and Robin both reply at the same time, slapping at each other and trying to invoke jinx.
I look at them both mortified, backing slowly towards the mic stand perched center stage. "God there's two of you..."
Pressing his lips to her cheek in a wet smack, she shrugs him off and he comes to stand beside me, picking up an aqua blue Gibson guitar that I know is from his own collection.
They've turned one of the downstairs rooms into a bar and music room; creating a unique space that Phin can also work from when needed.
I recognised all of his instruments and recording equipment, which makes sense since he sold his home in York to move into Nightingale.
The space in the hotel is big enough for a group to play whilst guests watch, so it would be a great idea to host evenings with musicians.
We're setting up to start the cover of Taylor Swift that I have no shame about loving, when I watch Corbin stroll across the lawn.
Lily trails after him with a death glare boring into the back of his skull.
I wonder if he pisses off everyone he comes into contact with?
There's no point ignoring the huge elephant at the murder mystery—he’s brought us all here under his own agenda and it can only end badly.
Jay delays the start by tuning his bass, so I edge slightly closer to the end of the rugs, humming to warm up my vocal cords.
Band karaoke is casual and fun, but I still need to take care of my voice.
I’d never really given it much thought really when I’d spend my days constantly singing, but once we got signed and went on tour, my life became constant voice rest and honey tea.
Corbin strides right up to Robin and her entire body goes stiff.
The sudden urge to rush forward to remove him from her proximity almost suffocating me.
Should I have such protective instincts for someone I just met?
Probably not, but I can’t stand the way he sucks all the joy out of her.
The idea of them being together makes me kind of murderous, because she's so far out of his league.
“Well that was just embarrassing for you.” I hear him say over the buzz of our instruments and I stop humming.
Did he actually just say that to her?
His hands are in his pockets and he stands crowding her space, a cruel smile on his mouth. “I don’t know why you guys still entertain this shit.”
Her lips part. I can see the torment and something close to panic starting to morph her features, which he eats up.
I need to get him out of her head and fast.
Spinning around to face Phoenix, he’s shaking out his limbs like he's about to play the most vigorous show of his life. “What song does Robin really like?” He looks at me dumbolded and I can't help gritting my teeth. “Quickly.” I make a rolling motion with my hand.
His head cocks to the side, but finally has his lightbulb moment, clicking his fingers. “Teenage Dirtbag. She kept playing it in the car this morning.”
My head snaps to the guys, flicking between Bran and Jay as I take a step back towards the center where I left the mic stand. “Change of song, we're playing Wheatus.”
“Fuck yeah!” Bran cheers, fist pumping the air and shuffling on his seat behind the drums. Jay nods and quietly relays the change to one of the guest musicians, who passes on the message to the others.
He’s been reserved today which isn't like the chipper Geordie at all, but I don't have the time to analyse that, when all I want is to get her attention off that cockroach, and onto me. Scrambling to swap his guitar for an acoustic, Phoenix throws the leather strap over his shoulder as Bran hits his foot pedal a couple of times. Despite having the guest musicians and without the other members of the band, the three of us fall into a natural rhythm, even Jay fits comfortably in with our timing. The acoustic and bass immediately start and I grasp the microphone, my other hand landing on the stand, just like always. The moment I start singing, I can’t take my eyes away from how life seems to breathe back into her. Those deep brown orbs sparkle with glee and she moves forward, pushing past him without a care, like the man doesn’t even exist. Her focus is entirely on me and I fucking thrive on it.
Her palms meet with an excited bounce, and I'm so captivated in her happiness that I can't hold back a grin. I raise my eyebrows in acknowledgement, draping my hands against the mic stand as I get ready to tilt it towards me and hit the higher notes.
"Oh for fuck sake, did you set this up?" I hear a gruff voice shout, as Cardinals tall form barrels past Corbin too, who can no longer hide his soured expression. He looks in disbelief around him, already fading into the background as even his fiancé pays me more attention. I should probably be worried of the repercussions that could follow, but despite watching his anger change from a simmer to a boil, I couldn't care less right now. I don’t hear her reply as I engage with Phin, his fingers moving over the strings effortlessly because this isn’t the first time we’ve played this song.
It was a big request in the dorms when we created band karaoke all those years ago.
Mum would always say I learnt to sing before I even spoke tangible words—that it came so naturally.
It still does, like each time I breathe it's begging to flow out in rhythmic notes.
I used to play this game with her, where I'd turn our mundane routine that day into a song.
I'd hum lyrics I'd make up on the spot about how she spread jam on my toast, or how we'd leisurely bike around my favourite park in London every Sunday.
I'd commentate everything and not once did she ever tell me I was too much, or too loud.
She never dimmed the spark I gave our little family and to her I owe everything I have.
I take the microphone from the stand and pull the cord so it snakes loosely behind me, inching closer to Phin who dramatically falls to one knee, serenading us all as like the silly bugger he is.
I place one arm behind my back, playfully shaking my shoulders and feel the tension I've been holding roll off me like waves. When I'm singing nothing matters.