I’m not looking forward to being half-naked as I make my way back home. I really should’ve crammed a jacket into my purse before I left the apartment.
“Did you want to put something on before I finish my song?” I try my hardest not to stare at the black towel wrapped around his waist, but I fail miserably when it’s tented between his legs. Is he turned on? My sex clenches. Shamefully I know I’m turned on.
“Your song?”
“Huh?” I ask distractedly.
“You said you’re supposed to sing something for me?”
I jerk my eyes away from his dick and nod as my cheeks fill with heat. “Um, yeah.” What was I supposed to be singing? My mind tries to remember.
A lock of his brown hair falls on his forehead when he tilts his head to the side. “I’d love to hear you sing.”
“Right.” I take a deep breath to center myself. Get it together. I close my eyes because there’s no way I’ll be able to hit even half of the notes if I catch sight of the long, hard length pushing against his towel while I’m singing. It doesn’t help much since the sight is burned into my brain. I rush through the song, knowing it’s probably my worst performance, probably ever. I’m pretty sure I even cracked on the last high note. When I’m done, my eyes pop open and I find him staring at me. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at me.
“Okay, so I guess I should give this back before I head out.” I unwrap the blanket from around my shoulders and try to hand it to him. I must have been so terrible I shocked him into silence.
He takes hold of my hand instead. “You can’t go out there like that.”
“I can’t?”
“Fuck no.” He leads me through the living room, past a gourmet kitchen with gleaming granite countertops and stainless steel appliances, and down a hallway to a door all the way at the end. He pushes it open and tugs me past the giant bed and into the walk-in closet. It’s so big that I could probably fit the apartment I share with three other girls inside it. Then again, our place is super tiny and barely fits all of us. I’m still gawking at the closet when he shoves a button-down shirt into my hands. “On,” he commands before disappearing through a door off to the side.
I slip it over my shoulders and am working on the last button when he comes back dressed in a pair of sweatpants—that do nothing to disguise the fact that he’s still hard—and a T-shirt that’s stretched across his big chest and hard biceps. Maybe he’s a famous football player or something. He’s built big enough to be one.
“Who are you?” I echo the question he asked me when I first got here, but without the swearing.
“Theo Hayes.”
Theo Hayes? He did not just say that. I was sure he was going to say a name I didn’t know because I don’t watch football.
“Are you—” I can barely get the words out and shake my head, hoping his name is just a coincidence. “You’re not…holy crap, did I just do a singing telegram for an award-winning composer?” I’m not sure if I want him to say yes or no.
He nods, moving closer to me but stopping when I take a step backwards.
“While you were wearing nothing but a towel?” I can’t believe this. I get another nod.
“So, you’re telling me that I just gave my worst performance since I was in my junior high school choir to the man who’s written some of my favorite songs and won more awards than I can count?” As much as I enjoyed the view of Theo in nothing but a towel, I really wish I’d never gotten out of bed this morning. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the fact that I totally flopped while singing for him.
“If that was the worst you can do, I can’t wait to hear you sing for me again, my little muse.”
Chapter Three
Theo
There is music playing in my head again. The minute this beautiful girl opened her mouth and sang her first note, another melody began to take shape. And when I heard her voice, I knew. She was it. The thing I was missing. Why I’ve been feeling so lost lately.
My dick’s reaction made it pretty fucking clear too. As my eyes swept over her curvy body—in that scrap of material she’s trying to pass off as a fucking dress—with her reddish brown curls and jade-green eyes, I knew she was the woman I’d been dreaming about.
I found her. Or I guess she found me. Either way, here she is, standing right in front of me. My muse. My everything. I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but there is no doubt in my mind that she is meant to be mine. Now I just have to figure out how to make her realize it too. One thing is certain, she won’t be leaving until that happens. Or ever, for that matter.