Page 101 of Raise Me Up

“Fine.” I brush past him and nod in greeting at Z clutching his guitar bag in the lobby.

As they warm up in the recording room, I’m sucked deeper and deeper into mental quicksand. I start to question if the summer even happened. Was it all a dream, and I’ll wake up alone?

Hail lays down his recordings first. When he’s finished, he comes to sit on the stool next to me as Z cycles into the recording room.

“You’re just as experienced with the equipment as I am. You don’t need me here,” I mumble.

“Do you even know me, Liam? I need you like I need oxygen.”

He fiddles with something in his pocket, sneaking me a glimpse of a small velvet box. “Don’t think I can wait any longer.”

My jaw clenches. Unfortunately for Hail, I might be the worst person to support him right now.

The front door opens, and my gut sinks further as I glimpse long blonde hair in my peripheral vision.Fuck. If I look at Stas and see one ounce of sadness reflected back at me in those pretty brown eyes, I’ll lose my shit.

Would she blame me if Beau decides to leave? How the hell did I think I could handle a relationship with two people when I’ve never even had one?

Hail bounces a knee on the footrest of the stool at a rate that has my blood pressure spiking. I reach over to stop him. “Quit. You’re making me want to smoke.”

He throws me a heated look. “Proposing’s a big deal, Liam. Not like you’d know.”

I snort. “Damn right.”

The words don’t feel right coming out, especially with Stasi nearby. I don’t know that I’ll ever change my mind on the idea of tying someone to me after witnessing how my dad treated my mom.

But if that were something Stas or Beau wanted...

Pulling a cigarette from the pack Beau left in my house, I prepare to light it. Hail snatches it from my fingers. “Don’t start that up. You’ll stink up the place.”

“S’my studio,” I grumble, tugging out another cigarette and lighting it up.

We fall into silence as Z strings together another song that will dominate the charts. These boys don’t fucking miss.

When Hail slips into the recording room to check on Z, Stasi finally speaks. “I brought you something to eat. I wasn’t sure if you had lunch.”

Fucking hell. She would be worried about me. She’s built that way. Thoughtful and sweet.

I run a hand along my jaw, struggling to keep my composure. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

Words of apology dance on my tongue, but then Hail interrupts, asking if I can listen through the track one more time.

As much as I want to kick him out, I can tell he’s biding his time while he gathers up the confidence to make a life-changing decision. I told him there’s no reason to be nervous. Z’s not going to say no.

But I know how my twins are.

I mutter a ‘hold on’ to Stas before hitting play on the track and doing my best to focus on the music washing over me. Once my perfectionism is satisfied with the mix, I turn around, prepared to grovel for forgiveness.

Only, Stas is gone.

Damn it. Why do I keep fucking up?

The thought of losing her, of losingbothof them, has me standing up and knocking on the recording room window, breaking up Hail and Z’s little make-out session. I drop a comment about them paying me by the hour, and Hail flips me off.

Thankfully, he takes Z’s hand and guides him out of the recording room. His amber eyes meet mine. “Call you tomorrow, yeah?”

I give him a tight nod. “Yeah.”