Chloe sat with a smile as Reid disappeared into the back room, only looking away when Inky cleared her throat. Her brows furrowed when she noticed Inky’s odd expression.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just curious what you two are working on, that’s all. That was my nosy face.”
“Your nosy face?” Chloe asked, laughing when Inky nodded. “Okay, then. We’re actually working on adding more layers to the CCR song we played. Reid came up with some really amazing ideas.”
Inky’s lips parted in surprise. “Reid’s writing music?”
At that moment, Chloe realized that whether or not Reid had confided in the others about his problem, they were aware nonetheless. “Yeah,” she answered, shifting her weight.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Inky muttered as she stood and grabbed a water bottle. The same look of mischief she’d worn earlier returned in full force.
Chloe eyed her cautiously. “What?”
Inky shook her head and moved toward the stairs. “I think I’ll grab some sleep too.”
Chloe’s confusion intensified as she tried to work out what Inky was up to. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She grinned. “Oh, and Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you know Reid’s birthday?”
Chloe swallowed hard. It was obvious that whatever Inky was going to say was the source of her canary like behavior. “No. Why?”
Inky laughed. “It’s July twenty-third,” she said, before disappearing from sight.
Chloe sat completely still as she put together why Inky found Reid’s birthdate so amusing. When it clicked, her eyes fell shut and her hand instinctively covered the tattoo decorating her arm.
“Shit,” she exhaled, nerves rippling through her body. “He’s a Leo.”
“What’s that?”
Chloe jumped and spun toward Reid with her hand over her chest and her eyes wide as saucers. “Shit,” she gasped. “You scared the hell outta me.”
Reid grinned and fell onto the bench beside her. “My bad.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Chloe rolled her eyes and lifted her chin toward the notebook. “Do you like it?”
“Are you kidding? This is awesome.” Reid ran his hand over the cover and pulled in a deep breath. “For a lot of reasons,” he mumbled.
Chloe wanted to press. She wanted to ask what he meant, but after the last twenty-four hours, more complications were the last thing they needed. “So what are we working on?”
Reid slouched against the back of the bench and raked his hand through his hair. “Do you ever have those days where you wish you could just forget everything?”
Chloe fought to keep her expression neutral. This type of question was the exact opposite of avoiding complications. “Well, yeah. I think that’s normal. Although it wasn’t until the last six months that I started considering what everything included.”
“What do you mean?”
Chloe shrugged and looked at her hands. “I had two tours cancel back-to-back. When the bills started piling up, I thought I was going to have to throw in the towel.”
Reid sat up abruptly, causing Chloe to jump. “What do you mean throw in the towel? Surely you don’t mean giving up music, because that’s the most ludicrous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Some of us don’t have the luxury of waiting out the bad times,” Chloe shot back, defensive. When Reid winced, Chloe knew her words hit their mark.
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to piss you off. It’s just that I can’t imagine someone as talented as you never playing again.”
“I could say the same thing about you,” she countered, her eyes soft.
Reid cleared his throat. “I can’t imagine doing anything else. This is all I’ve ever wanted. This has been a horrific year, and as much as I’m struggling, walking away just isn’t an option.”
“That’s good to hear,” Chloe said with a smile. “And when I said I considered throwing in the towel, I didn’t mean music altogether. I meant this kind of music, this lifestyle.”
“What other kind of music is there?”
Chloe gave him a sad smile. “The kind of music my mother wants. The kind where I dress in pencil skirts and blouses that cover my tattoos. Where piercings and purple hair are a foreign concept.” Chloe threw her head back and straightened her shoulders. With her fingers laced delicately over her knees, she spoke with exaggerated enunciation. “In the words of my mother, ‘Only true musicians are given the honor of playing for the Philharmonic. Be the best of the best, Chloe. Don’t allow those bottom-feeding so-called rock bands to bring you down. You’re so above that lifestyle.’ You know what’s funny?” Chloe asked. “She married a middle-class man and lived a middle-class life by choice.”