Page 2 of Last Chorus (A Perfect Song Duet #2)

CHAPTER TWO

wilder

L ate afternoon, my doorbell rings again. This time I rush toward it and throw it open. “About fucking time.”

“Language,” chirps Lily.

Rolling my eyes, I step back. “Give me a break, she’s not even two.”

Lily strolls past me, Rye following with my goddaughter. After closing the door behind them, I hold out my arms. Rye acquiesces to my silent demand and hands me Emma, who’s already reaching for me.

Her tiny fingers immediately start tugging my hair as she chants, “Why-Why, Why-Why.”

The first time Emma called me the nickname Evangeline used when she was a toddler, it felt like a knife in my gut. But exposure therapy is a thing for a reason. After hearing it innumerable times, it’s now one of my favorite sounds.

“Fair warning, she’s cutting molars,” Rye says as he pulls off his coat. “Prepare for drool.”

“Oh yeah? Show me the goods, Ems.” I tickle her belly and she giggles, mouth dropping open and showcasing her collection of tiny teeth and red gums. “Ouch. That looks like hard work.”

Saliva dribbles from the corners of her mouth, a thick stream dripping off her chin to my bicep. “You’re so gross,” I coo at her, “but I still love you.”

A silicone toy shaped like a giraffe appears between us. Emma grabs it and starts gnawing on the head like a rabid animal.

“You know, if you wanted to see the baby, you could have just said so. No vague, alarmist demands necessary.” Lily’s light tone is at odds with the frown on her delicate features.

I look from her to Rye, whose concerned expression finally registers. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you guys.” I adjust my grip on Emma. “Matt and Sophie came to see me today.”

Comprehension sweeps across their faces. They exchange a look before Rye sighs. “We were kind of afraid they would but didn’t want to say anything in case nothing came of it. ”

“They were talking about Evangeline like she needs either an intervention or an exorcism. What the hell is going on?”

Another loaded glance passes between them.

“Can we at least sit down before hashing this out?” asks Lily. Without waiting for an answer, she sweeps past me toward the kitchen. “You’re making us dinner, by the way. One of your fancy recipes, please and thank you.”

Before Rye can walk away, I grab his arm. “Just give me a scale or something. How worried should I be?”

He grimaces. “Man, I wish it were that easy. A big part of the problem is we can’t get close enough to her to find out. I have better odds surviving Lily’s cooking than I do getting a call back from Eva.”

“I heard that!” Lily hollers from the kitchen.

Rye and I share a smirk. As we walk down the hallway, he continues in a low voice, “Do I think she’s in an intervention-level crisis? No. Unless bad taste in men qualifies.”

I open my mouth, then close it. Is that what Matt and Sophie were indirectly asking me to do? Break up Evangeline and her boyfriend? The idea is as wild as their assumption that I still have any effect on their daughter whatsoever.

On the other hand, the Sullivans aren’t stupid. Matt especially has been in the music industry for a long time, and he’s definitely heard the rumors about his daughter’s boyfriend.

Clay fucking Eaton.

Entertainment lawyer, media golden boy, and unequivocal dirtbag who groomed and seduced his sixteen-year-old stepsister when he was twenty-three. The latter isn’t conjecture, either. His stepsister, Kendra, is my ex-girlfriend, and she told me everything .

I can’t even think Clay’s name without wanting to break his face.

Even harder to accept? That I told Evangeline he was morally bankrupt and not only did she fall for his fake charm, she’s been with him for two years .

The reason I didn’t tell her about his fucked-up relationship with Kendra was because at the time, I hadn’t wanted to give her nightmares. Now I wish I had.

The only reasonable—and gut-wrenching—conclusion I’ve come to is Evangeline must have decided that because I lied about my drug use, I lied about everything else, too.

All this time, I’ve clung to the silver lining that at least she had Lily and Rye. Only now I’m not sure she does.

The remainder of the walk to the kitchen is spent naming three things I can see, three things I can hear, and three things I can feel .

It barely takes the edge off.

Rounding the island, I hand a squirming Emma to her mom. Lily gives her a smooch on the head before swapping the teething toy for a sippy cup of milk. As Rye opens the fridge to hunt for his favorite Kombucha, I head to a couch and flop down to wait for them.

They eventually settle in the same spot Sophie and Matt occupied earlier. Emma curls into her mom, drinking lazily from her cup and blinking slowly. In spite of my tension, I smile.

“She’s gonna pass out.”

Lily nods, smiling softly as she smooths dark hair off Emma’s forehead. Her mom’s touch pushes her over the edge into dreamland. Rye extracts the sippy cup from small, twitching fingers and puts it on the coffee table, then turns his attention to me.

“All right, tell us what they said.”

It doesn’t take long to recount the conversation. When I’m finished, Lily blows out a heavy breath.

“That’s kind of messed up.” She looks down at Emma. “On the other hand, I can understand their desperation.”

Rye studies my face, correctly interpreting my expression—namely, how close I am to losing my shit. “It’s not fair that they put this on you. Eva is different, sure, but she hasn’t been body-snatched or whatever. She’s still the same person, just…” He shrugs.

“Meaner,” mutters Lily.

Rye counters, “She’s under constant scrutiny and pressure.”

From the looks on their faces, it’s obvious they’ve had this argument before.

I’ve never been privy to it because of the unspoken rule that they don’t talk about Evangeline in front of me.

I’ve also never pried, respecting their choice and, frankly, my own mental health.

Plus, I’ve always assumed the rule came from Eva herself.

Lily’s dark eyes throw sparks. “And I’m not under scrutiny or pressure? Really?”

“Babe, that’s not?—”

She cuts him off. “Last time I checked, there are two members in Glow, but only one of us is making huge decisions about the future without speaking to the other.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

Rye winces. “The Indigo contract expired a few months ago and Eva turned down a new one. Lily found out after the fact. It’s been kept on the down-low so far.”

My eyes widen. “What the hell?”

Lily’s laugh is humorless. “My thoughts exactly. After everything Indigo has done for us? I got my hands on the new contract they offered, too. She turned down an obscene amount of money, not to mention ownership of all masters and publishing rights. It makes zero sense. And you know what she said when I confronted her? That I was being small-minded. She basically called me an idiot.”

“I don’t think—” Rye starts.

“Stop defending her! You weren’t there.”

Emma stirs with a mewl of protest. Lily visibly struggles, then relaxes with a dejected shake of her head, whispering, “It was horrible.”

Rye’s expression falls. I look away as he wraps an arm around her. “I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right. It’s not okay that she went to the meeting without you or said that to you. None of this is okay.”

Lily sniffs and whispers, “Thank you,” then returns her focus to me. “Obviously I’m not done being angry with her. I’ve also started to consider this might be the end of Glow.”

More shock reverberates through me. “Seriously?”

She shrugs. “Our tour at the beginning of the year was challenging, to say the least. If Rye hadn’t been able to come with Emma, I don’t know how I would’ve managed.

Our parents are getting older, too, and we want more kids.

It would be nice to focus on family for more than a few months at a time, you know? Maybe even finally plan a wedding.”

She and Rye share a wistful smile before she continues, “If Eva does want to call it quits, I’d be fine with it. I just wish she’d come out and say it instead of giving me some avoidant bullshit about ‘waiting and seeing’ and ‘weighing our options.’”

Rye’s tight expression tells me he heard the same undercurrent in her voice I did: denial. Lily wouldn’t be fine with saying goodbye to Glow forever any more than I’d be fine with never playing guitar again.

What she wants is what many artists our age—or really, people in general—want.

The best of both worlds. Family and career.

And she could have it, no question. While smaller artists might suffer financially from touring less or putting out fewer albums, Glow has reached a level of success very few do. Night Theory included.

Eva and Lily have done exactly what journalist Alex Illoka first predicted. What I predicted. Worldwide superstardom and a fanbase of millions that grows daily—check. Over two hundred industry awards, including twelve Grammys—check. Thousands of young artists emulating them—check.

All before either of them turned thirty .

My head swimming, I ask, “Do you think she wants to go solo?”

Lily smiles weakly. “If you’d asked me that two years ago, I would have said not a chance in hell.”

“What’s so significant about two years ago?” As the last word leaves my mouth, realization strikes. “You think Clay is behind this?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. He’s obsessed with her fame and what it can do for him. I’ve never liked him, and he’s never liked me. It’s not a huge stretch to imagine him pushing her to break ties.”

The notion of anyone, but especially him , having that much influence on Evangeline nauseates me.

“Does… does she love him?” I ask hoarsely.

Rye looks ten types of uncomfortable as he shrugs. “She says she does.”