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"Fuck," he mutters.

"You need to tell her the truth," I say, shoving my hands into my pockets because I want to hit him. He deserves it, simply because he thinks he's in love with her and that pisses me off. He doesn't know how to love her. If he did, we wouldn't be standing here right now. "She deserves that much from you. And I'm telling you now, it probably won't fix a damn thing between the two of you. That ship sailed when you lied to her. It's not coming back to port when you finally decide to man the fuck up and tell her the whole truth. But at least she'll finally know that it's not her judgment she can't trust. It's you and yours."

He stares at me for a moment like he wants to argue before he realizes he can't. There's not a single argument that'll change the facts. He shit the bed all on his own. He lost her on his own. And if she ever forgives him, whatever friendship they had will never be the same. He'll never have her heart. He'll never have her. And the only person to blame for that is the stupid motherfucker staring back at him every time he catches his reflection in the mirror.

His head droops, his stance defeated. "If you love her, don't ask her to settle for less than she deserves, Bishop," he mutters, his voice shaking. "Don't be stupid enough to hold her back."

"Don't recall asking for advice from someone too dumb to take his own when he had the chance," I say, one brow arched. He flinches, and I actually feel…guilty. Fucking hell. "You don't have to worry about her, Swanson. I've got her."

He hesitates and then nods.

"Make it right," I warn him before walking away.

I don't look back.

Chapter Ten

Callie

The Park Avenue Bar is one of my favorite places to play, mostly because it's the only place in the world where Bent still plays regularly. Getting to say I've played the same stage as one of the biggest rock bands in the world? Yeah, that's cool as hell.

But I also love the staff and the bar's whole vibe. It's upscale, chic, but still cozy and intimate. I feel comfortable in my own skin on stage, like I can be myself and have fun with the crowd.

By the time we're halfway through soundcheck, I'm ready for our show tonight…even if I'm not nearly as ready for the record exec to show up in Houston next weekend. My whole life is changing at warp speed.

We're midway through the final song when I feel Bishop's eyes on me. Even with mine closed, his gaze burns a hole straight through me. I shiver, my entire body igniting. I briefly wonder what I look like up here to him. Do I remind him of his mom? God, I hope not. I hope when he looks at me, he doesn't see his past. I hope he just sees me.

What am I going to do about him?

The question has run through my mind in an endless loop all damn day. I still don't have an answer. I'm not sure there is one that'll satisfy me. His life is here. He's made it clear that he's not interested in chasing after me. And yet…a selfish part of me wants to ask him to do it anyway.

I can't do that, though. I can't be selfish with him the way his mom was. It's not fair. He deserves to live the life he's chosen. He deserves to be a cowboy, wrestle bulls, and enjoy every single beautiful thing Silver Spoon Falls has to offer him.

I wish I'd met him a year ago. If I had, I think maybe I'd stay. Maybe I'd be the kind of girl who could see herself living on a ranch, singing in the kitchen instead of on stage. Because a year ago, that girl didn't know what it felt like to come alive when the lights hit. She didn't know how it felt to have everyone singing the songs she wrote or dancing to the music she arranged.

That girl didn't know her heart could be split right down the middle, desperately aching for two very different things at once, either. This one does, though.

"Callie."

I don't realize I'm crying until Rita calls my name.

I quickly wipe my eyes before spinning to face her, a bright smile plastered on my face. "I think we're done," I say before she can ask me any questions. "Good job, guys."

The whole band looks at me, then at each other, then back at me.

Crap.

"Um, you guys should go eat, get ready…the usual," I mutter, hurriedly shoving the mic back into the stand. "Be back at six so we can run through the set list and stuff one more time before we take the stage."

Rita opens her mouth to say something, but I spin around, hurrying off the side of the stage before she has a chance to ask if I'm okay or what's wrong. I don't know how to answer either question when I'm not okay, and everything feels wrong.

I run right into Bishop. Literally. I bounce off his chest like I hit a freaking wall, stumbling back. His strong arms close around me, hauling me up against him before I land on my ass.

"You were crying," he growls before I can even say a word.

"What? No, I…" The lie dies on my lips when I catch sight of his thunderous expression. It's hard to lie to a man who looks like he's ready to commit murder over a few tears. "I'm okay," I say softly. "I was just having a moment."

He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb beneath my eye. "I don't like it when you cry, songbird. Makes me want to break shit."