I’m unable to focus, because all I can think about is what I’m going to have to deal with later.
* * *
I park my car in the back lot beside my dad’s Rover. Taking a moment I gather my thoughts and take a deep, steadying breath. I can’t lose my temper, because if I do it’ll be bad for me and the band. As much as Hollis might’ve riled me up I don’t want to jeopardize this for him and his friends.
There is no back entrance to the studio so I walk around to the front and enter into the lounge area. I can hear the clanging of drums and the beat instantly finds its way inside my veins. I head down the hallway in search of my dad, my head on a swivel, when—
“What the fuck?”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I exclaim, rubbing my forehead where I think I smacked into someone’s chin.
I look up and my eyes connect with amber ones.
“Oh, it’s you,” I grumble.
“Why are you grumpy? I’m supposed to be here, remember,” he says, rubbing his chin.
I sigh. Something about this guy brings out the worst in me and I seem to be helpless to stop it.
“Besides, we were only in your house one night. Shouldn’t you be thrilled?”
“I am. Jumping for joy,” I say sarcastically and give a pathetic little hop.
I swear he almost smiles. A real smile. Not one of those cocky smirks he’s worn so far.
“I need to find my dad,” I mutter, scooting around him.
I can’t believe I wasn’t paying attention and literally ran into him.
“He’s this way.” He tilts his head and I have no choice but to follow him to one of the recording rooms. Inside I see Rush laying down beats on the drums. Earphones cover his ears, his eyes closed. He’s so into the music nothing else exists.
My dad is smiling from ear to ear. Whatever they’ve been doing today … he’s thrilled. I like seeing him so into this. Representing new bands has been a dream of his. The Wild is his first whack at it. Since he opened the studio a few months ago Willow Creek has been the only band to record here, since it’s his band, it hasn’t had the same effect. I love he’s found something else he’s as passionate about.
Hollis slips by me and onto the couch beside Fox and the other guy whose name I don’t know.
I swallow thickly as I take the new guy in. He’s big, impossibly wide shoulders and a more muscular build than the others, almost like a bodybuilder but not quite. He has neck tats, and tattoos all over his arms, and I’d bet his chest too if I could see beneath his shirt. Idly, I wonder how far they go and a blush stains my cheeks for even thinking it. His ears boast a smaller set of gauges, and even his nose and lip are pierced. His dark hair is thicker on top and slicked over to one side, the sides shaved. A toothpick sticks out between his full lips. He chews on it idly, like he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.
When I tear my gaze away my eyes collide with Hollis’s and I swear he looks pissed. I look away quickly from him too. I can feel my skin flushing red with embarrassment.
“Dad?” I inquire and he swivels his chair toward me, still grinning from ear to ear. His smile is infectious and I find my lips lifting in response. “What do you need me to do?”
“Right now,” he begins, his eyes flicking back to Rush in the booth. “Observe.”
I nod, moving to the corner.
Hollis makes a noise of protest. “Sit,” he orders.
“I’m fine here.”
He rolls his too pretty eyes at me. Everything about him is too pretty, from his amber eyes to his perfect lips.
He stands up. “You sit, I’ll stand. I’m next anyway.”
We stare at each other, a war of personalities vying to see who will win.
I’ve never been outmatched by anyone before, but suddenly I find myself taking a seat while Hollis wears a triumphant smirk.
I cross my arms over my chest, irritated at having given in, but soon the beat of the drums takes over my senses and I forget why I’m pissed. Even Hollis’s self-satisfied smile does nothing to me.