He needed to know if I made the decision to sign, it was going to be of my own accord. Not because he’d twisted my arm or filled my head with pretty words that I knew full well he didn’t mean.
I flopped down into the spot he’d vacated.
The leather was warm.
Crap.
This was so not good. Because I was warring against the need that flooded my belly, pressing my thighs together when I was assailed with the scent of him.
Cedar and whiskey and the barest hint of lingering cigarettes.
I felt drugged by it, my mind going hazy, or maybe it was just the fuzzy feeling I was struck with when he sat down at the table across from where Richard was sitting.
His legs so long he had one tucked under the table and the other stretched out into the aisle, his body slung back.
Casual and fierce.
How did he manage that?
I fumbled in the messenger bag I’d dumped on the floor, grabbing a notebook and flipping it open to a scribbled-on page as the bus rumbled out of the parking lot.
I tried to get lost.
To stare out the window as we left the city behind, as the trees grew denser and the road narrowed into two-lanes.
Seemed I couldn’t do anything but count the erratic beats of my heart as I felt those penetrating eyes continually flicker to me.
Invading.
Searching.
Penetrating.
Finally, I huffed out a breath and stood. “I’m going to go work on some music.”
Wishful thinking.
But sometimes the only thing a girl could do was pretend, and I’d become a pro at it.
Thing was, lyrics had been flirting at the edges of my mind for weeks. The muted strains of a new song stalking me from the fringes of my consciousness.
Wisps of beauty I could almost taste.
Rhythmic.
Magical in its dance.
Evaporating into nothing the second I reached for it.
If I could just grab it, hold it, I was sure things would be okay. That I’d be on my way to healing. If only I could figure out a way to get there.
I guessed maybe because it felt like a secret. As if maybe I were cutting myself wide open and exposing something I wasn’t quite yet ready to reveal.
“You want me to work with you?” Rich asked, glancing up from his phone.
“No, I’m good.”
Worry passed through his expression. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
“I will.”
Grabbing my things, I headed for the back, stepping over Leif’s legs where he was engrossed in a movie, headphones in his ears. Rhys and Mel were still shooting jabs at each other where they were sitting at the second table tucked behind the couch.
I fumbled down the narrow aisle of empty bunks, feeling grateful that we had two buses for this tour. The rest of the sound and stage crew were on the other, that bus pulling out late last night so they could be at the next city to set up for tonight’s show.
There’d been no rest on the tours back when we’d had to share.
It was true—we’d come a long, long way. Our beginnings humble. Filled with hope and belief of who we might one day get to be.
Our heads in the clouds and our hearts in the stars.
I made it to the back room. The seating area was a horseshoe leather couch that ran along both sides and the back. The sitting surface was wider, big enough for someone to lounge and curl up or even sleep on when there was a need.
The curtains were drawn back, filling the space with natural light, the country going by in a blur of greens and browns and peace.
I went for my guitar case where it was always waiting for me in the closet. I took it out, flicked through the latches, and pulled out my baby. Climbing onto the couch in the corner, I drew up my legs and rested her across my lap.
Strummed my fingers over the strings and felt the chord resonate to my soul.
I listened for the words. For something to speak to me. Come to me. For my spirit to get lost in sound and feeling.
Strumming softly, I closed my eyes and drifted a bit.
Waiting on the piece that had always been most important to my soul to make itself known.
The music that lived inside of me.
I was hit with a line, and I thought it was shock that had me scrambling to grab my pen. I leaned over the top of my guitar so I could reach my notebook that was open on the seat in front of me, teeth tugging at my lip as I scratched out the messy words.
Come to me
I’ve been waiting for a break
Looking for something to save me from myselfMy mouth hung open on a silent gasp. Caught in a stupor. Stunned by the impact.
It wasn’t much, but they were the first words I’d gotten onto a page in three months.