Read Online Love Struck (Miss Match #2) by Laurelin McGee - Free Book Online Page A

thing. He’d never failed to be supportive and not in the “little gestures” way, but in the big ways. He was the guy who lugged all her equipment from gig to gig and hand-sold copies of her first CD to everyone he knew. He knew when she had a good song before she did, and he’d make sure she finished it. His faith in her was endless.
    God, Lance … I feel like I’m cheating on you. But you left. You left me.
    Sometimes she missed him so so much.
    But now there was Folx, singing the same sentiments Lance would have. He made her truly believe he wouldn’t give up on her either.
    Still, it was with a heavy heart that she hefted the strap of her guitar case on her shoulder and turned to leave the studio.
    “Oh, my God, Lacy! You’re still here!”
    Kat’s shrill voice cut into Lacy’s backside from down the hall. She closed her eyes momentarily, praying for the strength to turn around and face her sometimes friend with a smile. Her prayers were half answered—she found the energy to turn around, but she couldn’t manage anything more than a tight line of her lips. At least she wasn’t scowling.
    Lacy didn’t even have to say anything. Kat closed the distance between them in five bouncy steps, sort of like a real-life Tigger, and threw her arms around Lacy.
    Crap, Lacy thought through an inhale of patchouli. Now what?
    Kat leaned back, her hands still on Lacy’s shoulders. “Guess what. You’ll never guess though, so I’m just telling you. OMG you won’t believe it. And you’re going to love me so hard. Ah! I can’t believe this is happening!”
    “What, Kat? Just spit it out.” She was not in the mood for exuberance. Did her coworker just land another gig she’d wanted?
    “Remember the Blue Hills? Remember Wes, the drummer?”
    Lacy could honestly say she didn’t remember the drummer, but she certainly remembered the Blue Hills. “Of course. They were hot. I mean, their music was hot.”
    “Well, they just left on a two-month tour of the Northeast, and their opening act had to cancel because he had a twerking incident. That look you’re giving me is exactly the expression I had too. But we’ve all seen those YouTube vids, and this guy is apparently almost sixty but wanted to be cool and tried it at a show, which is weirdest because his music is ultra folk and doesn’t lend itself to twerking at all, but anyway he injured his back. Both his disc—and his pants—slipped, ensuring the end of his music career for the time being at least, and hopefully the end of his twerking career forever.
    “Anyway, again. That means no opening act and they’re looking for someone last minute, and a few weeks ago I gave Wes your CD that you burned last year and he gave it to his manager and Wes just called me and they want you and that’s so amazing that I can hardly contain myself so congratulations and you’re welcome!”
    Lacy was pretty sure that Kat hadn’t breathed once during her monologue. For that matter, neither had she. Did Kat just say she’d gotten her a two-month gig? “Um, what?”
    “I booked you a tour. If you want it. With the Blue Hills.” Thank God, Kat slowed her speech this time.
    “Oh, my God.” Lacy was shaking. “Oh, my God, oh, my God.” And she was talking like Kat and now she was even hugging Kat, patchouli and all. Lacy pushed aside her guilt at being so resentful, promised herself she’d stop being pissy that Kat had never suffered like she had. The girl had just given her the greatest gift ever.
    “Can you be ready by one tomorrow? Wes said they’d send a car to take you to Worchester to meet them, but I told them not to bother. I’ll totally take you. They’ll reimburse me, of course. Sound check is at three. You’d go on tomorrow night.”
    “Oh, my God.” Lacy took a deep breath. She’d been lacking in words lately, but she certainly could do better than repeating the same trite phrase over and over. After one more calming inhale and exhale, she opened her