The Fate of Us (The Broken Lyrics Duet Book 2)

Home > Other > The Fate of Us (The Broken Lyrics Duet Book 2) > Page 8
The Fate of Us (The Broken Lyrics Duet Book 2) Page 8

by Tori Fox


  I park my car in my driveway and grab my mail. I throw the mail on the kitchen counter and head to my music room to put my money away in my safe before heading to Noah’s.

  Picking my mail back up, I try to go through it but my eyelids are heavy. I see a large envelope, the only thing that doesn’t look like junk, and grab it before walking out my door and locking it behind me.

  I walk into Noah’s house, the lights are all out except for the one on the entry table. I shut it off as I quietly tiptoe upstairs.

  I throw my bag on the floor next to my side of the bed. I really need to shower but exhaustion is taking over. I collapse onto the bed in my dirty clothes and shut my eyes.

  I wake up a few minutes later to Noah taking my clothes off.

  “The gate is closed tonight, Noah.”

  He chuckles into my neck. “Noted. But you smell like stale beer and French fries.”

  “Fuck. I’m sorry. I was just so tired.”

  “I’ve got you, babe.”

  He takes my clothes off and pulls me into him, my back to his chest, as I fall into a deep sleep.

  10

  Anna

  My phone ringing wakes me up. I blink away the sleep, looking at the clock telling me it’s after ten. Having a week off work is exhausting. Who knew that a week of sleeping in would mess up your entire sleep schedule?

  I stretch my hand out to the nightstand looking for my phone but I can’t find it. I peer over the bed and find my purse on the floor.

  What the hell is it doing there?

  That’s when I realize I am lying in bed naked. I flip through my hazy thoughts of the night before. I remember stumbling through the door and passing out in bed. Then I remember Noah telling me I smelled.

  I grab a piece of my hair and smell it. Luckily it isn’t as repulsive as my clothes must have been. I find one of Noah’s shirts laying on the end of the bed and throw it on before lugging my purse onto the mattress.

  There is a large envelope inside but I toss it on the bed and dig for my phone. When I finally find it, I see I have a missed call from Jimmy’s. I listen to the voicemail to find out they want me to work a double. I groan because I despise doubles as a server. Bartending always goes by quickly but a double serving makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon. I could use the money though after a week off.

  I call them back and let them know I will be in by noon. Then I grab the mysterious envelope from the bed. The return label says Nashville Songwriters Association. I have no idea why I would get something from them. I contemplated sending the money in for a yearly membership since it’s an international organization but never got the courage.

  I slide my finger under the seal and pull out a stack of documents. One of them welcoming me to the organization. The second one is a congratulations letter for being accepted into a two-week songwriters’ workshop.

  I have to pick my jaw up off the bed. I never applied for this. I knew about it but I was too scared to put myself out there. Hell, I’ve only been comfortable playing music the last few months with Mason.

  Fucking Mason.

  And I can guarantee Mason had everything to do with this.

  I skim through the rest of the information. Acceptance forms, housing requests, brochures.

  I climb out of bed and stomp down the stairs in search of Noah.

  I look everywhere for him. Inside, outside, the damn basement figuring he is working out since he does it all the time. Not that I am complaining.

  I can’t find him until I finally hear the sound of a drill coming from the sun porch he never uses.

  When I walk through the door, my jaw drops again for a second time this morning. Noah must have gone to my house this morning because he is in the process of hanging records and guitars on the wall that came from my music room. The windows that used to be hazy and dirty are now sparkling clean letting in so much light.

  “What are you doing?”

  He jumps at my words. “Mayberry, I didn’t realize you were awake.”

  “What is all this?”

  He sets the drill down and walks over to me. “I wanted you to feel like this was home. So I thought the first thing to give you that feeling was to bring your music here.”

  I smile at him. This man knows the exact way to my heart. I almost go to kiss him until I remember the papers in my hand. “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you.”

  “Anything?” I ask, standing taller and taking a step toward him.

  “Yeah babe.”

  “Anything as in you would pay for me to be a part of the Nashville Songwriters Association and submit an application for one of their workshops,” I say with accusation in my voice.

  He grabs the back of his neck. “Ughh—”

  “It was you!”

  He holds his hands up in front of me. “Listen, I only did it because Mason told me about it. He said he talked to you and you turned him down. He said this was the best thing for you whether you realized it or not.”

  “What about what I think is the best thing for me!” I yell as I take a step closer to him.

  “Anna, come on. I just thought it would be good for you. I’m sorry if you didn’t get in or whatever it is that’s upsetting you.”

  I scoff at that. “Upsetting me? You think I am upset that I didn’t get in? No, I didn’t want to enter this because it’s too much pressure, too much intensity. I could be thrown into a group of the greatest songwriters in the world and laughed at. Don’t you think that is humiliating?”

  He steps toward me, arms outstretched trying to comfort me. But I step back. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to do that. I thought you were good enough. Mason thought you were good enough. We thought if we paid for your membership and applied for the workshop, you would be happy. We thought you would get in. I’m sorry.”

  I scrunch my brow at him. “Wait, you’re sorry because you thought I didn’t get in. Is that it?”

  “Yeah babe. I really thought you would get in.”

  I scream and growl at him like I am having a temper tantrum. “Well I’m not pissed that I didn’t get in. I’m pissed because you did this behind my back.”

  He grips the back of his neck as he takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have!”

  “But I do think you are good enough for it. Maybe the next one you should apply for.”

  I hold back a laugh at that. “I don’t need to.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t because I got into this one, you dumbass. That’s why I’m so pissed. What if I fuck this all up? What if I am the worst one there?”

  “Wait, you got in?”

  “Ughh,” I growl. “Yes.”

  This time I don’t stop him as he lunges for me. “I knew you would, babe. I knew you would. You are incredibly talented and deserve every accolade you get.”

  I let him hold me, my arms pinned to my sides as he praises me. “I’m still mad at you. You should have told me.”

  “Would you have let me send it in if you knew?”

  Okay he has a point. “No.”

  He smirks at me. “Well then I’m glad I did.”

  “What if I fuck this all up?”

  “You won’t, Mayberry. You won’t.”

  I finally relax in his embrace. Because I believe him. I believe that he believes in me.

  He presses a kiss to my forehead before moving down to my lips.

  “I’m still mad at you,” I say as I try to pull away.

  He bites on to my lip and sucks it hard. “Good. Because I would love to have make-up sex.”

  Fuck it. I drop the papers in my hand and let him show me just what make-up sex looks like.

  11

  Noah

  “You need to relax,” Anna says to me.

  “I’m trying.”

  She snorts. “No you aren’t. The test is in two days. You spend every waking minute trying to memorize
everything you already know.”

  “I can’t fail this again.”

  “You won’t.”

  I groan as I drop my pen from the notes I’ve written over and over. “I just want it to be over.”

  Anna moves behind me and starts rubbing my shoulders. “You are so tense. You need to step away from this for the rest of the day. Relax. Meditate. Do something.”

  “I don’t meditate.”

  “Maybe you should,” she says as she hits a knot in my shoulder. I moan at the relief. “Mmm. I know just the thing.”

  “I don’t think I want to know.”

  She leans over me, her red curls falling over my shoulder before she presses a kiss to my cheek. “We’re doing hot yoga.”

  “No.”

  “Oh come on. It will feel good and relax your mind.”

  I pull her hands off my shoulders. “I don’t do that shit.”

  She walks in front of me sitting on the table on top of my notes, propping a hand on her hip. “You do realize that is one of my jobs.”

  “And you’re great at it,” I admit.

  She leans in close so our lips almost brush. “You’ll get to see my ass bending over in leggings, just like I know you want to.”

  The thought of that round, luscious ass bent over in my face is enough to make my dick stir.

  She smirks at me. “See, I knew you would want to if it was for that reason.”

  “I haven’t agreed to it yet.”

  “Maybe not out loud. But your face sure did.”

  I grip her hips and pull her off the table and onto my lap. She yelps as I do it. “I’ll go if you let me pick out your outfit.”

  “Fine.” She sticks out her hand and we shake on the deal.

  “I can’t believe you made me wear this,” she groans as we get out of the car in front of the hot yoga studio.

  “You own it.”

  “Well I bought it on a whim. I never actually wore it.”

  “Good, then I feel lucky.”

  She punches me in the arm before we walk into the studio. I hold the door for her so I can see that fine ass move in those tight as sin white leggings. She has a matching white sports bra on. I wouldn’t let her wear a shirt which she protested as she tried to cover her stomach. But it was when I told her she looked sexy and good enough to eat that she eventually moved her arms and uncovered her stomach and agreed to keep the outfit on.

  We put our things into a cubby and she grabs me a yoga mat from the pile in the corner. She opens the door to the studio and within seconds, I am sweating. “How hot is it in here?”

  She sets her yoga mat down and then takes mine and lays it next to hers. “One hundred and three degrees.”

  “You expect me to survive in this?”

  She pinches my cheek. “Toughen up buttercup. Besides you can always take your shirt off.”

  I know she said it because she wants to look at my abs. So I pull it over my head and give her a wink. She shakes her head and turns to her mat, stretching her legs out before the class starts.

  That’s when I look around and see that the entire class is women and every single one of them has their eyes on me.

  The teacher starts the class and it whips my ass. I never realized how difficult yoga could be. I give Anna more credit than I’ve ever given her for this. I don’t know if it’s the heat or the fact I need to work on my flexibility but I feel like I have never exercised a day in my life.

  I look over at Anna as she giggles at me. I keep on though as I move from position to position. I have no idea what the names are that the instructor is saying half the time. But my favorite is when we are bent over at the waist. I cheat and look up to see Anna’s perfect peach of an ass in my face. My dick twitches and I have to fight it to calm down because everyone will see it in the basketball shorts I’m wearing.

  By the time class is over I feel like I ran a damn marathon. We ended in lotus pose and I fall back and collapse onto the mat. My body is drenched in sweat and I might be hallucinating. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  “You gonna make it?”

  I open one eye to see Anna hovering over me. Little does she know that position has her tits on glorious display as they fight their way to stay escape her bra. “It’s questionable.”

  She laughs as she grabs my hands. “Do you feel more relaxed?”

  “I’m not sure I can feel anything right now.”

  “Well then I guess it worked.”

  She attempts to pull me up and I pull her on top of me instead. “I can’t move.”

  “You seemed to have enough strength to pull me on to you.” Her eyes light up.

  “Gravity.”

  “You are such a liar.”

  I pull her mouth to mine until someone clears a throat behind us.

  Anna jumps off me and apologizes to the instructor profusely. I laugh. She was already flushed from the heat of this room but now she is as red as a tomato.

  I push up off the floor and grab my mat and Anna’s and head to the door with her on my heels.

  “Oh my god, that was so embarrassing.”

  I roll her mat up and hand it to her before spraying mine with disinfectant and putting it back in the pile. We grab our things and head out the door as I grab her hand. When we get to my SUV I pull her into a kiss.

  “Thank you.”

  She looks at me quizzically, her fingers tapping along my still bare chest. “Did you like it?”

  “Hell no.” I laugh. “But I did it. And I do feel better.”

  Her face breaks into a huge grin. “You are gonna do so well on that exam. Don’t worry about it anymore.”

  I kiss her forehead. “I won’t.” And I mean it. I have been stressed about this for months but her encouragement and support has me feeling so much different than I was feeling weeks ago. “Now let’s get home so we can both shower.”

  12

  Anna

  I play a few chords on the piano repeatedly trying to find the right melody for the song in my notebook. But nothing seems to sound right. I smash my forehead to the keys.

  I have only a few days left to submit my paperwork for the songwriter’s workshop and I still don’t know what to do. I know I want to go. I know it will be the best thing for me. The exposure I need to have a chance at making it as a songwriter.

  But with the way my writing has been over the last week I don’t feel worthy of the workshop. I can’t find my rhythm.

  Literally.

  And my harmonies sound more like squealing tires.

  I’m stressed over moving out of my house, and I still haven’t talked to my landlord. All my calls go to voicemail and he hasn’t called me back. I even reached out to the realtor and she can’t get a hold of him either. She made promises to me that they would inform me of any showings and offers but she didn’t know what legal documents my landlord put together to end my lease.

  I was able to talk to my neighbor and he didn’t know much either. But George had called him and informed him of the building going up for sale. But he was not given any notices about moving out either.

  But the thing I am most stressed about is my relationship with Noah. I shouldn’t be stressed. He is amazing. He listens, he comforts me, he makes me want to pursue all my dreams. And of course, the way his body fits with mine is better than anything I have ever experienced. But I still worry something will go wrong. I worry we are moving too fast. Most of all I worry that he isn’t ready for this. I know he loves me but I still think he is waiting for his ex-wife to return.

  I take a deep breath and release it through my closed lips, the vibrations giving me no creative juices. I put my right hand on the keys and play a few notes with my head still resting in the middle of the keyboard.

  “Is that a new song writing technique?” Mason asks with a laugh as I hear him close the door behind him.

  I’m sitting in one of the recording rooms in the dark, except for the three candles lit on the piano. I’m trying to come
up with three new songs to bring to the writing workshop just in case I do accidentally send them in.

  I know, I can’t make my mind up on anything.

  I groan as I answer Mason. “If it is, it isn’t working,” I mutter into my chest.

  I feel Mason sit next to me at the piano. His fingers glide effortlessly over the keys, a gentle, soothing melody brought to life.

  I slowly lift my head as he plays the familiar melody. I hum along to a song we wrote together months ago until I finally find the words in my throat. He joins me during the chorus, our words battling back and forth in a song about love and hate.

  When the song comes to an end he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Trouble in paradise? My brother being a dick?”

  “I don’t think he knows how to be,” I answer truthfully.

  Mason snorts. “Maybe not to you.”

  I stretch my fingers out in front of me, flexing the muscles before placing them on the black and white keys. “I just can’t write and I don’t know what to do about Nashville and I’m worried I’m moving too fast with Noah.”

  I don’t mean to say that last part but it comes out anyway.

  “Trust me, you aren’t moving too fast with Noah.”

  I look over at Mason. “You don’t think it’s too early to move in with him?”

  “One thing I know about Noah is that he never does anything irrational. Never makes decisions he hasn’t thought long and hard about. If he wants you to move in with him, he means it one hundred percent.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask with hesitation.

  Mason wraps an arm around my shoulder. “He loves you, Anna May. I don’t think I have seen him love anyone as fiercely as he loves you.” He pauses and I look over at him. He laughs silently like he is remembering something. “You know when you came to our parents’ house at Thanksgiving, I told him to make his move or else I would make you mine. The fact that he didn’t and I took you on that date just for him to realize what he wanted proves to me that his decision didn’t come lightly. He didn’t think he deserved you. Even though he wanted you. So I know that whatever you guys are doing together is the right thing.”

 

‹ Prev