It was Bill’s dream. Not mine.
And if I wasn’t careful, I’d get sucked into that dream to make my parents happy and wind up miserable for the rest of my life.
“How can you not want it?” My mother wasn’t just shocked—she was hurt. “I’m sorry, but you need to get your head out of the clouds. You think something better than this is going to come along?”
“Probably not,” I said.
But maybe.
That was the only answer I gave, and my mom didn’t like my attitude . . . or lack thereof. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Fine. We can talk about the future some other time, but you didn’t give us much warning to fill your spot for Tuesday. All the other guys give us more of a heads-up.”
That was bullshit. Guys asked for vacations the next day or called off sick all the time. Last week when we’d been working on an addition and the HVAC wasn’t installed yet, it’d climbed above a hundred degrees inside the house. It wasn’t surprising that two of the guys on the crew “came down with something” and were miraculously better once the air conditioner was turned on.
“It’s last minute, but I can’t reschedule.” I gave her a pointed look. “It’s an opportunity, and when I said I’d work for Bill, we all agreed that wouldn’t get in the way if something better for me came along.”
“Better,” she repeated, annoyed. “What is it?”
Since she’d literally just told me to get my head out of the clouds, I wasn’t about to say. I played up a shrug. “It could be good, or it could be nothing. I promise I’ll tell you about it afterward, though.”
I walked past her, wanting the conversation over. I didn’t like lying to my mom, and a better use of my time right now would be practicing.
My pads of my fingers were sore, and my wrists ached. I’d spent the last three hours playing the guitar and filming myself with my phone to watch my performance. It made me cringe the first few times with how stupid I looked. Without a crowd, the whole thing felt forced, but Erika had said to keep doing it until I was comfortable. An audience of one was still an audience.
It was after nine when my phone buzzed with a text message.
Erika: Got a second to talk?
Me: Yup.
I tried to play it cool, but I was dying to hear from her. After I’d finished recording with Ardy, we’d gone right into talking about the audition and then I’d had to book it to make my class on time at the gym. I hadn’t gotten a chance alone with her.
My phone rang and I didn’t bother saying hi. I needed to know right off the bat. “Is this call business,” I asked, “or pleasure?”
There was a pause like my question had thrown her.
“It’s pleasure.” Her voice was surprisingly sure. “Come over, and make sure to bring that magical dick with you.”
I grinned bigger than I ever had in my life. “Yes, ma’am.”
THIRTEEN
Erika
Waiting to text Troy nearly killed me. I must have picked up my phone a dozen times throughout the day with the intent to tell him how badly I wanted him, only to pocket my phone instead.
I told myself there was work to do first, and once that was taken care of, then we could play. But I couldn’t get a handle on the desire sizzling through my bloodstream. When he’d sung at Blanche’s, it’d been dark and late, and there had been my shock at seeing him perform for the first time.
Today in the studio, there’d been no shadows to hide away my desire. I had to linger in the doorway behind Ardy so he wouldn’t see my face or the way I’d clenched a hand on the doorframe to keep control of myself. Troy’s voice, his beautiful hands on the guitar, and his powerful body were sin in the flesh.
I was coming unglued.
So, I gave up on the idea of work, then play. I needed fucking relief, to get the lust out of my system, so we could get back to focusing on other things.
I’d been anxious after we’d ended the call and I waited for him to show up on my doorstep, but the second he did and flashed his bright smile, my nerves evaporated.
“Hi,” I said, pulling the door open wider to let him in.
He stepped inside, bringing us nearly chest to chest. There was electricity in his eyes, and sex in his voice. “Hey.”
Good lord, my knees went weak with a single word. No wonder I’d gone boneless when he’d sang this morning. He pushed the door closed behind him and as he peered down at me, I caught a faint woodsy smell.
Cologne?
He smelled amazing and looked even better.