Love is a Lyric

1 BEN Ben Evans never believed in fate, not until the music. Not until he met someone who understood him so completely and spoke to a deeper part of his soul. Okay, maybe not literally. Quinn Hayes wasn’t the kind of girl who’d speak profound, world-changing words. She’d write them, sing them. And now? “I really think you need to take your shirt off on stage.” Ben closed his eyes. They’d had this argument before. Many times. “Quinn…” “Don’t give me that sigh, Benjamin Evans.” She patted the side of his face before turning back to the mirror in her dressing room. She leaned forward to apply another coat of pink lipstick. “Everything I do is for us.” Her eyes narrowed as they found his in the mirror. “You know that, right?” He did. Along with their friend Connor, they formed the pieces of the band Fate. Ironic, he’d always thought. Maybe the three of them were supposed to find each other their senior year of high school. They’d played to sparse crowds for years before a song Quinn wrote took off on YouTube and more than one label came calling. That was six years ago. At twenty-three, he’d been ready to call it quits. Now, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss to Quinn’s cheek. “I get that you’re trying to excite the fans, babe, but can we do it without my chest?” She was always trying to exploit his looks, their looks together. Scandalous photo shoots, sexy dance moves. And now this. He put his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged him off. “Why do I get the feeling I’m working harder at this than you? It’s easy to climb to the top, Ben. Not so easy to stay there.” Their climb had been easy, he’d admit that. Once Quinn discovered her talent for songwriting, everyone else discovered it too. But this wasn’t a new argument. “We’re all doing our best.” “Whatever, Ben. Let’s just get ready to sing my songs.” Every time she said something like that, his gut twisted. Yes, Quinn wrote their lyrics, but Ben put them to music. Together, they made magic. It was why he’d taken their friendship to something more all those years ago. Her words called out to his notes, fitting together like pieces of a puzzle they’d never known wasn’t whole. “Are you ready to rock?” Connor, the final piece of Fate, burst through the door with his signature pre-concert phrase. It was cheesy, but they loved him for it. He served as the tension breaker whenever Ben and Quinn fought. Ben shook his head with a laugh as Connor shot him a grin. “What are you two doing?” He waggled his eyebrows. “There’s a whole concert out there, and it’s freaking awesome.” “I have no idea.” Ben gave Quinn one more look. Some days, he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. The music still spoke to him… her lyrics tied them together, but he couldn’t help wondering if fate had been wrong. He followed Connor out into the bowels of the arena where they’d perform in less than an hour. The charity concert was the final piece of the never-ending world tour that was finally coming to a close. About time. Connor led him to where they could see the stage without anyone catching sight of them, and they stopped to watch Drew Stone strut around the stage like he owned it. For tonight, Ben guessed he did. This was Drew’s event. He’d called in every favor to bring in a massive lineup that included Fate, even though Quinn had begged Ben to say no. “Gotta admit,” Connor yelled. “The dude has pipes... and moves.” Ben grimaced at that. He didn’t always see eye to eye with Drew. Drew had been in the music scene much longer than Ben, and as America’s golden boy, there was a cockiness to him. He danced as well as he sang, pulling out all the tricks Quinn wanted Ben to use to engage the audience. Shirt ripping. Hip shaking. Connor elbowed Ben. “You and Quinn okay?” Ben only shrugged. A small smile played on Connor’s lips. “Remember back in high school when we heard her sing for the first time?” Yeah, he remembered. They’d watched her in a school talent show and invited her to join their band. That was the same night they promised each other they wouldn’t fall for her. Because their band was about the music. And that lasted for about five years, stopping the moment Ben heard the first song she’d written. “I knew it would spell trouble.” Connor laughed. He’d never been mad Ben had broken their vow. And now, eleven years later, here they were. With Ben’s girlfriend demanding he strip during their show. “She wants me to take my shirt off.” A laugh burst out of Connor, and he bent to catch his breath. “Well, this is for breast cancer awareness.” It was a national tragedy the day Drew Stone’s grandma died of the disease. His enormous fan base held vigils. Now, they filled the arena in Tampa, Florida to support him. As Ben gazed out at the screaming crowd, a smile tilted his lips. None of them would be able to do this without support from the fans. “I’ve been looking for you two everywhere.” Piper Hayes panted as she ran toward them. “You’re on next, and you two idiots are all the way back here.” Connor slung an arm over Piper’s shoulders, squeezing her to his side. “Aw, Pipes, were you worried about us?” Piper tried to push away, but Ben wrapped an arm around her, sandwiching her between the two. She grunted in frustration, her dark eyes meeting his. “Benjamin Evans, get your tush back to your dressing room to finish getting ready.” As Quinn’s little sister, Piper had always been around. She’d only started working for Quinn two years ago as her assistant, and the band had never been run more efficiently. She was just as much his sister as Quinn’s and seeing her frazzled always brought a smile to his face. He released her with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve gotta go get beautified.” He followed her back to the dressing room where Quinn lounged on the couch sipping a bottle of water. Piper plucked the bottle from her sister’s hands. “Hey,” Quinn protested. Piper raised a brow. “You always have to pee when you drink too much before hitting the stage. Do you want to hold it through the entire performance?” Quinn slumped back onto the couch. Piper handed the bottle to Ben. “You, on the other hand, drink. Unless you want to get dehydrated from your buckets of sweat.” “I don’t sweat that much.” “Yeah, okay. But I’m not picking you up when you pass out.” She eyed Connor. “And you just stay out of the way.” She pressed a hand to her headpiece, speaking to someone they couldn’t see. “Got it. Tell him to suck it up.” A giggle escaped her, and all three band members stared at her. Since when was Piper a giggler? “Care to share with the class?” Quinn crossed her arms. “Just Matt.” Her cheeks heated. Ben removed his glasses, replacing them with irritating contacts, and busied himself applying the eyeliner he hated. “Matt?” Quinn sat up straighter. “You mean Drew Stone’s cute assistant?” Piper looked down at the clipboard in her hands, and Ben studied her in the mirror. Coffee-colored hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, revealing intelligent green eyes. He’d never understood why Piper came to work for Quinn instead of finishing college. She chewed on her lip, telling him there was something she didn’t want to say. Quinn must have noticed too because she scowled. “What is it?” Piper’s shoulders dropped. “I wasn’t going to tell you. Matt has been trying to convince me to take over for him when he leaves for his new job with the label.” Ben froze with his gel-covered hand halfway to his ashy hair. It shouldn’t have surprised him. Piper was the best assistant Fate had ever had. But Drew? He waited for Piper to say more, but she only stood in a silent stand-off with her sister. “As Drew Stone’s assistant? You’d leave me?” From anyone else, those words would be a little sad, pathetic even. But Ben knew these girls, he knew his girlfriend. Each word was perfectly crafted for manipulation. Piper sighed. “No. I’ll never leave you, Quinn.” Quinn’s face brightened. “I know.” She shot Ben a wink before sauntering to the door. “I’ll see y’all on stage.” Connor followed her out, leaving Ben alone with Piper. She sat in Quinn’s vacated spot. Ben finished transforming himself from the curly haired, glasses-wearing man to a rockstar before turning. “You stare any harder at that clipboard, and you’ll go cross-eyed.” She lifted her eyes and offered him a weak smile. “I’m okay.” “You sure about that? Because you answered before I even asked the question.” That pulled a laugh out of her. “Yeah. Some days… never mind. You’re about to go on stage. You don’t need to hear my crap.” “I’ve always listened to your crap.” He sat on the corner of the makeup table. “Not when you look like…” She waved a hand. “That.” He stared down at his ensemble. Tight jeans with a rip up one leg. A fitted black t-shirt. “Piper Hayes, are you not a fan of Fate?” One corner of his mouth hooked up. “I’m the lead singer, you know. Girls are supposed to fall at my feet.” “Nah, to me you’ll always be the guy who wears way too much flannel and spent a week pretending his horrible sight had been miraculously cured because he didn’t want to admit he’d lost his glasses.” She smirked. He rubbed his forehead as if he could still feel the bruise from all the stuff he’d run into. “You’re mean.” She shrugged, accepting the insult. Ben had known Piper Hayes since he was an eight-year-old kid running through the hospital with Quinn to meet her new sister. They’d always been a family, the Hayes and the Evans. The four parents were college friends, the best. Yet, their idyllic younger years hadn’t lasted. Ten years to the day that Piper was born, her parents died in a car accident. In one day, her life had turned upside down. Ben’s family took in the girls, but it wasn’t long before Ben and Quinn left for college and then touring, leaving Piper to be raised alongside Ben’s little brother. “Stop it.” She nudged him. “Stop what?” “I can see the dark thoughts turning in your mind.” Her lips parted as if she had more to say, but someone must have spoken through her headpiece because she paused and nodded. “Five minutes.” She stood. “Just get through this last performance, Ben. One set, and then you’ll be on vacation.” Well, a sort of vacation. They’d rented a beach house for the next three months to work on songs for the new album. Ben stood, letting everything else fade to the back of his mind as he prepared himself for the performance. Nerves coiled in his stomach, and he reveled in the feeling. The day the adrenaline left him, the day he no longer got nervous, this wouldn’t be worth it anymore. Luckily, today was not that day. Connor’s drum beat kept Ben moving across the stage as he belted out their self-titled hit “Fate.” Quinn’s smooth voice joined his for the chorus before taking over the next verse as his fingers flew across the strings of his guitar. This was where he belonged, under lights so bright they nearly blinded him, with screams of fans roaring in his ears. Next to Quinn. She could sing anything, her voice having the produced quality one only gained from immense amounts of practice. His was rougher as it scratched the back of his throat, pulling every bit of emotion from him. Quinn’s words ran through his mind. Was she right? Did he need to try harder to give the people the rockstar they so desired? Did he owe it to them? It was just a shirt, right? The song drew to a close, and Ben stepped up to the microphone. Piper had been right. Sweat poured down his face, soaking into his shirt, and now he wished he’d drank more of that water. He blew sweat from his lips and grinned. “Hello, Tampa.” He kept his voice low, seductive, so different from how he normally felt. He just had to remember none of this was real. This life, this persona. Maybe it did belong to the fans because it sure as heck wasn’t him. His fans screamed his name as he chuckled into the microphone. “It must be fate that I’m here with you tonight.” It was his joke at most concerts, a line his publicist determined played well with their demographic. By the screams, he knew she was right. “You can thank Drew Stone for getting us here. We’ve been out of the country for months, but it is good to be home.” Though, Florida wasn’t his home. He chuckled as if they amused him. “Breast cancer is a killer.” His voice sobered. “And we are honored to be here bringing awareness and raising money. But…” He paused. He was really doing this. “Before we continue, I need to get into our breast cancer awareness uniform.” He tried not to roll his eyes at his own words. As he gripped the bottom of his shirt, the screaming intensified. Objectification, it was. With a sigh, he pulled the shirt over his head and flung it behind him. He caught Quinn’s satisfied smile before turning away from her, giving his back to the crowd as he started up a new song on his guitar. The bass player none of them had known before tonight joined in, and Ben faced the crowd again, giving them everything, keeping nothing for himself.