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It’s the magic of music—a direct conduit of joy, sorrow, love, pain, and happiness between people.

And Eli helped me find it again.

“Do you want to hear it?” Eli asks as he wraps his arms around me hours later. He’s somehow got his hands on a thumb drive. “Because the world needs to hear you sing, baby.”

I laugh, feeling like I’m skating on air. “No,” I say, my lips at his ear. “I want you to make love to me.”

“What, right here?”

I close my teeth onto his earlobe. “Right here.”

Eli tosses the flash drive over his shoulder and pulls me, laughing, into his arms.

CHAPTER24

Eli

TRACK:Janis Joplin, “Me and Bobby McGee”

Iwas absolutely convinced that getting drunk on Reese’s body was the best moment of my life. Hands down.

Then I heard her sing.

I may be head over heels for this woman, but I swear to Christ she’s made of stardust, and it’s that showering over people when I hear her open her mouth that day in the studio.

I try describing it to Cassandra, but she looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “Eli, maybe you should leave the poetry to Reese?”

But as I stroll out of her office, barely remembering what I came in there for, I know I see the corner of her mouth turn up in a smile. She may act like the straight and narrow one, but my twin can tell when I’m genuinely happy. I can tell when she is too, and I know she never secretly smiled at me when I talked about Kelly.

I may be shit at describing how amazing she is when she sings, but that doesn’t stop me from gently trying to prod Reese into singing in public.

“I saw a sign up at Bean There when I was having coffee with Sam yesterday,” I tell her on Friday night after work. We’re at her place in the bathtub together, her beautiful sleek form emerging from the bubbles.

Reese slides a soapy washcloth over her shoulder, not turning around. “Oh?”

“There’s an open mic there tomorrow night.” I try to keep my tone casual, but Reese stiffens, stopping her hand.

“Eli—”

“It’s small.” I take the washcloth from her, tucking her hair over her shoulder and rubbing circles onto her back. I press hard, knowing she loves it when I do this with her back tight from being on her feet all day in the restaurant. Maybe I can massage her into agreement. “You remember the crowd for that cream cheese band—it wasn’t big, and that was a planned show.”

Reese dips her head down, and I can tell by the way her shoulders shake she’s laughing but trying not to. “Queen Cheese,” she corrects, a little breathily.

I grin. “That’s what I said. Anyway, how about we just go, and you can decide then if you want to get up on stage. No pressure.”

Reese seems like she’s going to argue, but I dip the washcloth under the water and apply pressure to her lower back, and she moans instead. “Not fair, Eli.”

“Not fair would be me stopping.” I release the pressure.

“I’ll show you not fair,” Reese says, arching her back. She stretches her arms over her head and around my neck behind her, and we both know I’ll do whatever the fuck she says now that her soapy tits are displayed before me.

“Goddammit,” I say, dropping the cloth and grasping her gorgeous breasts in my hands. “You’re always right, you know that?”

She laughs, then twists around in the water, pulling her knees up under her. Water sloshes around in the tub, threatening to splatter on the floor, but I barely notice. All I see is Reese’s face before me, her eyes narrowed, but her lips turned up. “Fine, I’ll go to the open mic,” she says. “But I’m inviting Nora.”

I groan, not because I don’t like Nora—because I really do. It’s because that means Jude will be there too.

“Why don’t you like your brother?” Reese asks, surprising me. Her hands are on my chest, her arms blocking her breasts from view, so I’m not so distracted I can’t think about the question.