Page 31 of Sing For Me

A familiar stab of guilt hits my belly. I haven’t been around much lately. I nod at my dad, trying not to wince, but he’s already turning to Eva.

“It was very nice to meet you. I hope we’ll see you again.”

“You too,” she squeaks out.

My dad gives me a last wink and then turns and disappears into my mother’s party. I take a deep breath, imagining the shock I’m sure I’ll see on Eva’s face, and turn to her.

She’s laughing. Laughing silently, laughing so hard there are tears in the corners of her eyes. A smile breaks over my face without even knowing what she finds so amusing—she’s so damn beautiful, even more gorgeous than I remembered.

“What?”

“He wants you to find your uncles,” she gasps, fanning her hands around her eyes as if that will help her to get it together. “Youruncles.”

“Why is that funny?”

“Because your uncles are Reed, Lennon, and Daltrey Ransome.”

I peer at her as she dissolves into more laughter, bemused. I’ve gotten a variety of reactions from women finding out who my family is—shock, excitement, that cold calculating look of opportunity I know to run from—but uproarious laughter is a new one for me.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps, dabbing under her eyes. “I’m just…I think I’m getting hysterical.” She shakes her head a few times. “I was supposed to ease back into it tonight,” she half mutters, almost more to herself, “fly under the radar. I came over here tohide. And instead I end up talking to CashRansome.” Another peal of laughter, then she looks up at me, eyes still wet. “Do you ever get like that? When something isn’t actuallyfunny, but in the moment it’s just so absurd you can’t…” she trails off, shaking her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long night.”

I raise an eyebrow and look at my watch. “It’s barely nine.”

She hasn’t managed to wipe the grin off her face, and I’m so glad. I don’t even care if it’s at my expense—I could look at that smile for the rest of the night. Hell, I could look at any part of her for the rest of the night. I had thought Eva was gorgeous dressed in simple blue cotton on my tattoo table. Eva in a skin-tight evening gown? It’s a miracle I can talk at all.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I blurt out, and the smile immediately drops from her face. Shit.

But she doesn’t look angry. Instead she ducks her head, shy, cheeks coloring. “Thank you. You look pretty great yourself.”

Suddenly I can’t even remember any of the reasons that I told myself to stay away. I reach for her, chest expanding when she doesn’t pull away at the contact of my fingers on the smooth, soft skin of her forearm. I skim my hand down, over her delicate wrist, relishing her little shiver at the touch, then lace my fingers with hers.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t call.” My voice is husky with sincerity, but I don’t care. I want her to know how much she affects me.

She takes a deep, shuddering breath before looking back at me. “I get it.”

“You do?”

She tilts her head in the direction where my dad had just left. “I mean, you grew up with the most famous band in the world. I would imagine you have a better sense of the music industry than most people. I’m not surprised you want to avoid that in your own life.”

I release a breath, feeling lighter. I should tell her that my feelings on the industry have very little to do with my dad and uncles. That they protected us, always, as much as they possibly could, from the darker side of rock and roll. That it was someone else entirely that brought me so much disillusionment. That I still don’t think I’ve recovered from Skye.

But there will be time for that later. If things go the way I want, there will be plenty of time.

“You want to get a drink?” I ask, and her head suddenly snaps to the side, eyes wide.

“Shit.” She scans the ballroom like she’s searching for something. “My PA—Marissa—she was getting us a drink. I totally got distracted.”

“Want to go look for her?”

She eyes the room again, more apprehensive now, and I watch the elegant column of her neck when she swallows hard. “Sure,” she says, bracing her shoulders like she’s preparing herself for something unpleasant.

Some instinct makes me draw her closer, place my hand at the small of her back to keep her next to me. To shield her. When her body relaxes against me, the swell of victory in my chest is intense.

We make our way around the exterior of the room, heading towards the bar. “This is a really nice event,” Eva murmurs, looking around. “Usually these things are so stuffy.”

“My mom throws a damn good party.”

She looks up at me. “Your mom is in charge of this?”