Lost Lyric (Found in Oblivion Book 4) by Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott

Author:Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott [Quinn, Cari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781940346427
Publisher: Rainbow Rage Publishing
Published: 2017-05-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The road was a brutal bitch.

A couple shows in Chicago were in the bag. Now they were on a trip to nowhere. Or it just seemed that way. At least this monotonous stretch would land them in Vegas.

Eventually.

Ryan stretched his legs into the aisle of the bus and tipped back his head, his eyes narrowing on the episode of daytime TV his female bandmates had put on. Somehow they thought that people shouting about “trifling hoes” and throwing chairs qualified as quality entertainment. He didn’t agree, and neither did West, who was sprawled beside him playing some game on his phone while Lauren divided her attention between West’s score and the TV.

“I never understood why people get so up in arms,” Lo said thoughtfully. “There’s a lot of fish in the sea, right? If yours is more interested in your neighbor’s food, easy enough to cut them loose.”

West shot her a sidelong glance. “Sometimes people fall in love and it isn’t that easy.” He nodded toward Elle, who was sitting on her yoga mat on the floor, her knee looped up to her chest and her chin resting on top of it. She was pretending to watch TV, but Ryan had caught her glancing off into space more than once.

“Oh, I don’t think it’s just love. If you truly loved someone, you would want them to be happy even if it wasn’t with you. Some of this speaks more to ego than anything else.”

“Says the former psych major,” Jules piped in from the opposite couch, passing her bottle of virulent purple nail polish to Molly.

Molly eyed the color, gave a shrug, slapped some kind of separator between her toes, and went to work. “Lauren’s right,” she agreed. “A lot of so-called love is just ego speaking. People hate to think that their partner wants someone else more.”

“So says the person with the most ego on this bus.” Mal spun his beer bottle on the kitchen table and glanced out the window at the passing scenery.

Which was mostly a whole lotta nothing.

They’d left Chicago in the rearview some time ago, so right now that meant they were surrounded by brush and more brush. Endless stretches of highway were capped off by bright blue skies and relentless sun that seemed to find its way into every crevice of the bus no matter how many blinds they pulled shut.

It felt as if they’d been driving forever, and they were still on the first leg of the trip to Vegas for the Alternative, Rock, & Crossover Awards. After losing Best New Artist at the CTAs, no one seemed nearly as excited. Of course, being nominated was enough of an honor, especially for newly minted artists like them, but it was hard not to feel the burn when others were chosen. Maybe they’d get more used to it after they had more years in the business.

He just wanted off the damn bus. Wanted some fun and private time alone with Den, who’d been quiet and moody since they’d left Chicago.

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