“She just left,” Erin said, her eyes meeting his gaze for the first time. “Q, we’re all aware that you need to use your inhaler. So go do it. You can’t always be the center of attention.” She laid into Owen again. Incredible.
“I need to be the center of attention right now,” Quentin said, leading her by the hand to the chair beside Martin. Next he shoved Owen toward a chair, and Owen was so engrossed in his conflict with Erin that he didn’t even shove Quentin back. Now they were all sitting down, with Quentin standing in front of them, about to make the smartest or the stupidest move of his life, and Erin and Owen were still going at it. Finally Quentin shouted, “Shut up!”
Erin and Owen shut up, shocked at being yelled at by someone other than each other.
“I slept with Sarah,” Quentin said.
Owen’s eyes narrowed. Erin’s shoulders sagged. Martin let his head loll back on his chair to gaze at the treetops.
“I slept with Sarah,” Quentin repeated in a rush, “and I love her, and I’m going to ask her to marry me. I have a ring and everything.” He felt in his pocket to make sure the ring box was still there. “Well?” he asked impatiently when Erin and Owen continued to stare at him and Martin continued to be high. “Are you going to kick me out of the band?”
“We already tried that,” Owen said, “but Sarah wouldn’t let us.”
It was Quentin’s turn to stare in disbelief. “Sarah told you I broke Rule Three?”
“No, but—” Owen held his head in his hand now. “Martin broke Rule One.”
“I know,” Quentin said at the same time Martin said, “He knows.”
Owen paused, then said, “And Erin and I broke Rule Two.”
“I thought you did,” Quentin said. “And then I thought you didn’t.”
“After you and Owen had that fight in the driveway,” Erin said, “I told him not to look at me anymore when we were around you. And to be nice to Sarah, because he thought Sarah knew what was going on. That seemed to work.”
“It did,” Quentin acceded, turning to Owen. “Dumbass. You were supposed to fake doing her.”
Owen shot Quentin the bird.
“And I’m pregnant,” Erin said.
“Are you taking folic acid?” Quentin asked automatically.
Then his brain caught up. He had Owen down on the hot flagstones, vaguely aware of Owen’s chair still skidding, metal across stone, into the pool. He gripped Owen’s throat with one hand and swung the other fist back. Martin was shouting at him.
“I’m in love with her!” Owen choked out.
Quentin hesitated and eased his grip on Owen’s neck.
“You don’t understand,” Owen went on breathlessly. “All those love songs I’ve written with Erin, I’ve written them for Erin.”
“Even ‘Only a Flesh Wound’?” Quentin asked.
“I mean it,” Owen said. “I’m in love with her. I’ve been in love with her for so long. And I just can’t stand it anymore that you’re with her—”
“For God’s sake, Owen,” Erin broke in, “that ended two years ago. I keep saying this.”
“But you’ve been making out with him ever since,” Owen called to her.
“That was the act!” she protested. “How was I supposed to know that it made you jealous? I didn’t even know you liked me! You acted like I was about as attractive as Martin!”
Martin murmured to the sky, “Please don’t drag me into this.”
“And you had sex with that girl from the record company in Nashville!” Erin wailed.
“Only to make you jealous,” Owen said. “I know that’s terrible. Except I did enjoy the blow job.”
Quentin gave him a warning look. Dumbass.
Owen got the message. “Completely terrible,” he repeated. “Erin, I would have done anything. I’ll still do anything.” He looked up at Quentin with pleading eyes. “I love her, man.”
Quentin stood and helped Owen up with one hand. Then he pointed Owen’s shoulders in Erin’s direction. “Say it to her.”
“I’m in love with you,” Owen said softly. He crossed the patio to kneel in front of her chair. “I love you,” he said, looking up at her. He laid his head in her lap. “I love you so much.”
After five years of Owen and Erin acting in private like no more than friends, this was so strange. Quentin turned to Martin to see what he thought. Martin rolled his eyes and let his head loll back on the chair again.
“Baby, I love you, too,” Erin cooed, stroking Owen’s hair. “I wouldn’t have done it with you if I didn’t. There was too much to lose.” She glared at Quentin.
Quentin clapped his hands. “Enough of this touchy-feely shit. I’ve got my own woman to grovel to. Where did Sarah go?”
“I think . . . the airport,” Erin said uneasily.
“The airport !” Quentin said. “Y’all sold me down the road ! What is she doing at the airport ? What did you tell her?”
Owen turned around to sit on the flagstones with his back against Erin’s legs. He gave a man-sized sniff. “We asked her to be our manager,” he said hoarsely.
“What’d she say?” Quentin asked in horror.
“She said no.”
“That’s not a good sign.”
“And in the process of asking her,” Owen explained, “we told her everything.”
“What do you mean, everything?”
“Q, you’re wheezing,” Martin said without moving his head from the back of his chair.
“We told her we’ve known all along that the two of you weren’t really doing it,” Erin said helpfully, winking.
“Did you tell her I got into med school?”
“Yes, but she didn’t act surprised,” Erin said confusedly.
“She pulled the Obi-Wan Kenobi on you and made you think she wasn’t,” Quentin said.
“I didn’t get that at all,” Erin said slowly. She looked to Martin. “What about you?”
“I don’t know,” Martin said, lifting his head. “My perception may be a little off because I’m a heroin addict.”
Both Erin and Owen stared at Martin like he’d grown a second head. Erin backed away from Martin, over the arm of her chair, across to Owen’s other side.