Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
I send another quick text.
TOM CARRAWAY
Admit it. I’m your favorite sibling besides Beckett.
CHARLIE KEATING
Keep bumping your head and you will be filled with endless delusions.
I’ll see you in Dallas.
I’m smiling. Because yeah, having Charlie come out to my shows does make me feel good. I just sincerely hope he isn’t doing it because he thinks I’m unstable.
I am very stable.
The most stable of all my brothers.
Phoenix enters the front lounge, clutching his cell, and he stops near the microwave when he notices me. He’s spent the past couple of hours in the back, talking to his brother on the phone. It seemed serious, so I gave him some privacy.
By the pinched look on his face, I don’t think he expected me to be awake.
The bus comes to a jerky stop at a light, and Phoenix grabs the top cabinet above me. Shirtless, his abs and bicep flex to brace himself from falling on me.
His nose flares as he stares down. Why do I find that insanely hot? I’m literally seconds from grabbing his waist when the intensity in his eyes freezes me. Oh…he’s pissed. “You’re still up?” he questions. “We can work on the album tomorrow.”
“Dude, I haven’t even had time to think about that tonight.” Or any night. “Sheela sent me more video requests for socials.” Our publicist has been ramping up the media asks—which means more work on our end. It’s a good thing. We struggled to get this kind of attention at the beginning of the tour, and seeing these requests pile up is exciting. Also, incredibly time consuming, but very exciting.
“You can do that in the morning,” Phoenix tells me.
“There’s no time. We have that tour bus walkthrough with a YouTube channel tomorrow morning, and Teen Vogue are flying someone out to do a live interview before the show.”
Phoenix shakes his head like I’m being unreasonable. But I’m not the one who put our schedule together, and somehow, I will find time to start writing the second album. I have to.
“Even if I didn’t have work to do, I’m not tired,” I tell him. “I just keeping thinking about the show last night. It’s playing in my head on a loop. Is that not happening for you?”
Phoenix drops his arms off the cabinet. “Yeah. It is. It was…” He starts to smile, but the bus jerks again, and this time he crashes on top of me.
His knee hits a tender bruise on my thigh. “Fuck,” I curse.
Phoenix lifts off me a little, but his gaze beelines to my body. “You hurt?”
“Yeah, you broke every bone in my body. Some might think you hate my guts.” I scoot over so he has room on the couch, but he ends up sitting down and just pulling my legs on his lap anyway.
“The only thing I currently hate about you is your newfound love of staying up until four a.m. Despise it, actually.”
I shrug. “Can you blame me? Tonight was mentally stimulating. Like a shot of pure epinephrine. Phoenix, they were singing ‘Bruit Préféré.’ They learned the lyrics to a French song.” It blew me away. It’s still shaking me to my core.
I’ve dreamed of having people sing my songs back to me. I never imagined they’d learn the one that’s completely in French.
Phoenix is smiling again. Maybe he’s remembering the time-halting moment onstage where I looked over at him and his eyes caught mine with the same visceral surprise and joy hearing the crowd sing our music.
The music we created together.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “That was pretty amazing.”
I plan to show him the videos from tonight some fans already posted. They caught us exchanging that awed look onstage and created a fifteen-second clip. I love that this moment between me and him has been documented and preserved. Our fans are the literal best.
Phoenix checks his watch again, then runs a tense hand through his hair. His other fingers slide up my leg. “Sheela doesn’t know we’re overworked. We need to set boundaries, man. Let’s just email her and tell her we’ll postpone the YouTube thing.”
“Hell no. We’ve just started landing bigger opportunities. We can’t pass things up, dude.”
Real concern sinks his expression. The dark circles under his eyes look more purpled than normal.
“Everything okay with your brother?” I ask, sitting up more against the couch’s armrest. He’d been on the phone for a while.
He nods, then shakes his head. “I don’t know. It’s the same shit with Bird. Constantly burning the candle at both ends. He can’t say no.” He slides me a look. “Feels real fucking familiar.”
Yeah, okay. Guilty. I swallow and try not to wince through the throat pain. “Compromise,” I tell him. “You look like shit—”
“Hell of a way to start a negotiation.”
I’m smiling. “It won’t be a negotiation when you agree to the terms.”
His eyes darken. “Which are?”