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Scarred Melody: A Rockstar Romance: Bold Melodies Book One

Page 9

by Heather E. Andrews


  “Oh, it did.” She walked into the kitchen and brought down two wine glasses. Opening the bottle, she poured us both a full glass. “Especially… for you!”

  “What do you mean, for me? I didn’t write Hallelujah, Amelia. As beautiful as the song is, we need to give credit where credit is due. Copyright laws are a thing.”

  “Elsie, just answer me one question. Why was it a duet? Why was your voice on the video?”

  My heart fell to my stomach. That’s why Amelia was so excited and got her to drive all the way out here. I’d put myself out there, albeit with Skyler, and she saw that as a sign for bigger things to come.

  “Amelia, he insisted. And how could I refuse Skyler Dalton?” Seriously, how could anyone say no to that man? I’d probably walk the red carpet at the Grammys naked if he asked me to. God, I hoped he didn’t ask me to.

  “Look at what people are saying, El.” Amelia opened up her bottomless bag, fetching a slim iPad, and pulled up the video. “Who’s the mystery woman? A duet? Is that Taylor Swift? Is Skyler singing with a new girlfriend? What’s the story? They’ve even named you Skyler’s Siren.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  “I like the sound of that,” I jumped at Skyler’s voice as he walked into the kitchen, holding his hand out to Amelia. “Hi, I’m Skyler Dalton.”

  OMG. Skyler was in my kitchen and I wasn’t wearing a bra under my tank top. Don’t look! Don’t look!

  “I’m Amelia Clarke. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  “The new captain of the label. Nice to meet you too. Your father was a great person to work with. Not to intimidate you, but those are some big shoes to fill. He’s a good dude.”

  “Believe me, he may not be there physically, but I’m still getting calls every night wanting to know how his baby is. Would you like some wine? We’re celebrating,” Amelia wiggled the half-empty bottle.

  “No, thank you. What’s the good news? You book Elsie for the Hollywood Bowl, yet?” Skyler winked at her. He was on Amelia’s side. Shit.

  “No, but I’m working on it.” Amelia nudged my side with excitement. Could she be more obvious? “I came to show El how people are responding to the YouTube video. Look!”

  Amelia turned the iPad toward Skyler and let him scroll through the comments. The number of views kept jumping by the hundreds, just like my blood pressure.

  Skyler’s Siren? What did I get myself into?

  “The label is thinking we can release it as a single and send the proceeds from all sales to a charity of your choice. We’d like to do that in honor of Benny Copeland, if that’s something you’d agree to, Skyler,” Amelia turned sad eyes to him.

  Skyler’s eyes clouded over at the mention of his best friend. Oh no, he was going to be upset that the label was involving themselves in Benny’s death. The idea sounds good, but I knew it was still a sensitive topic.

  Skyler took a deep breath, then looked right at me. “I’ll only do it if they credit Elsie on the LP. And, we made a video promoting it.” He turned to me, his look smug.

  A video?

  “I like how you think, Mr. Dalton. I like how he thinks, El.” Amelia turned to me, eyes pleading. “It’s up to you, but you know how much money this could make for charity.”

  I closed my eyes. A video?

  “No way in hell, Skyler,” I growled at him. He knew how I felt about performing. And to have it recorded for posterity? Are you kidding?

  Stepping in front of me, Skyler placed a hand on each shoulder and squeezed. My only option was to stare directly into his mahogany eyes. I shivered at the contact, warmth spreading quickly through my body.

  “El, this used to be your dream. Be brave—you need to show the world how talented you are. Stop robbing them of your voice,” he said.

  “Oh, he’s good.” Amelia took a swig of her wine.

  My body was locked in fear. His hands on my shoulders were the only thing keeping me from running back to my bedroom. Don’t rob the world of my voice? The universe had robbed the world of something even more precious—my mother. I knew I couldn’t bring her back, though. The look in Skyler’s eyes was full of hope. How could I say no?

  “I want to be kept in the shadows. Only show my right side. I’m not ready to put myself out there completely, Skyler. But I’ll do it,” I whispered my assent.

  “Mysterious, I like it!” Amelia wiggled her eyebrows again and grinned.

  “I’ll take you however I can get you, El.” Skyler winked at me and left the kitchen after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

  “Does he always reek of that sexy artist smell?”Amelia’s eyes were staring at the path Skyler took, as if burning his image into her brain.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much his thing.”

  “So…” Amelia wiggled her eyebrows again. What the hell was going on with her eyebrows?

  “No. Nothing. Nada.” Amelia was asking about sex. I swear, it’s all she thought about.

  “Dammit,” Amelia sighed, disappointment clear on her face.

  Nothing physical had happened between us, but I couldn’t honestly say that nothing was happening. Every time I talked to him, it was like he had a direct line of communication to my brain and my heart. Was that normal?

  “We stayed up late playing music on my balcony. We sang some of his old MD songs and talked for hours. Felt like my personal episode of Behind the Music.” I smiled.

  “El. You know I love you. But you need to focus on the dick. Dick.” She repeated sternly while maintaining eye contact. “It’s time to pop that cherry, girl. And he’s totally into you!”

  “No, he’s not!” Was he?

  “He was giving you sex eyes!”

  “Sex eyes? Where do you come up with this stuff?”

  “Cosmo.” Amelia shrugged her shoulders as if to say, ‘duh.’

  I rolled my eyes.

  “But seriously, tap that rock god ass! You know he’s got that DTF reputation. You could totally take a ride on that joystick!”

  “DTF?” I squinted, having a hard time focusing on Amelia’s crazy nomenclature.

  “Oh, my god, El. Do you live in the last century out here in your fairy tale land? DTF. Down. To. Fuck.”

  Amelia was different from me. Where I was a closeted virgin, she was all about free love and scratching the ‘itch.’

  I was attracted to him. Big time. I’d expected it after the years-long crush I’d harbored, but this was a whole new level. My body reacted when he walked into the room; my legs clenched when he smiled at me; my heart raced when he touched me.

  Could I do it? Could I have sex with Skyler Dalton and survive?

  Balcony Lovin’

  Skyler

  The next few days followed the same pattern. Elsie would bring me a song in the morning and we’d learn it and practice it until we decided if we connected. The songs she wrote were amazing. Most of them I connected to immediately, but some more than others.

  After she was convinced we were good on our own, Elsie would run off, leaving me with the Stooges as we’d started calling them. I can’t call them all jackasses as much as I wanted to. Rhys was earning his keep and West was adding some good guitar riffs to the mix. Rush, however, was hungover most of the time and grumbling about every little thing. I tried not to let it bother me, but I was going to have to do something. Soon.

  Elsie’s latest creation, Sex Eyes, had my dick at permanent half-mast. As I sang the words, my head filled with images of Elsie’s deep green eyes. The way they looked when she smiled and when she frowned. What would they look like when she was aroused? When she came? Would they shine as brightly as when she sang? Or would they simmer low with golden heat?

  I tried, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Her body. Her quick mind.

  I was taking two cold showers a day and developing calluses on my palms from jacking off. Still my desire wasn’t tempered. My attraction felt right and primal. No matter how much I tried to talk myself down, it was always there.

  Our
age difference was an enormous factor. I was fourteen years her senior.

  She was too sheltered. A man like me would taint that innocence.

  Ellis Clarke, the label owner, was her father. I could seriously put a hitch in my career if I acted on these urges and shit went south.

  As loud as the warning bells going off in my head were, they didn’t stop me from wanting her. Singing her songs, being enveloped in her thoughts and creative process, made me feel even more connected. More aroused.

  During our evening rendezvous on her balcony, I’d tell her about things I never told anyone. Not Benny, or my mother. In return, she told me about the accident and losing her world-famous mother. What it was like growing up with her injuries. How it felt to create. It was the most I’d ever talked to a woman. It was just so easy.

  “How do you do it?” I asked, strumming the guitar gently as we sat on the balcony in the dark. It was midnight, and the floodlights were off so we could see the stars.

  “Do what?”

  “Have all that music in your head? Write an amazing song in an hour? Have perfect pitch? Play so many instruments?” I could go on. Be so beautiful? Smile so brightly? See so much joy in every song?

  “Oh… that.” Elsie didn’t sound excited to talk about it; she sighed and began rubbing the corner of her pajama shirt between her fingers.

  “Yeah, that.” I laughed at her deadpan response.

  Elsie sat quietly, her nose twitching as she thought. I strummed the guitar and let her think, feeling no urge to prod her. She’d answer me when she was ready.

  “The doctors called me a musical savant. Apparently, my memory for all things musical is eidetic. I can play songs back perfectly in my head; my senses immediately know how to express the sounds on an instrument. I’ve been replaying music since I was about two. I started on the piano and went from there. They had me tested for autism because I didn’t talk a lot until I was five. I wasn’t really great at dealing with social cues and stuff… I’m still not, to be honest.”

  “So you’re autistic?” I stopped playing the guitar, looking at her closely. She didn’t appear different from other people. Maybe a little eccentric, but I knew shit about autism.

  “High functioning Asperger’s was the official diagnosis. I get uncomfortable in some social situations, but it doesn’t debilitate me.”

  I absorbed what she was saying, strumming my guitar again as thoughts sifted through my mind. She was born with this gift. Her entire mind wrapped itself around the music. It was amazing, and I was jealous as hell.

  “Damn, if we could figure out a way to bottle that and sell it, we’d be rich as hell,” I whistled.

  “We already are rich as hell!” Elsie laughed hysterically.

  “Oh, yeah,” I laughed along with her. My jealousy didn’t overwhelm me, but I wish it came as easily for me as it did for her. Any talent I bore came from years and years of grueling practice. Choir class, band class, and singing at church with my mom.

  “There is a price to pay, though. I don’t connect as well with other people as I do the music.” Elsie’s voice was soft and a little sad.

  “Like, how?”

  She clamped her mouth shut and her face blossomed bright red. She obviously didn’t talk about this much. I felt privileged that she was willing to discuss her personal life with me.

  “Like deep friendships. And romance…” her voice trailed off. She didn’t want to talk about it, but the jackass in me wanted to know and decided to pry.

  “So you’ve never had a boyfriend, El?” I stopped strumming the guitar and stared at her, holding my breath as I waited for her answer. It felt important to me, though I didn’t know why.

  Instead of speaking, she shook her head no.

  Heat slid down my body. Does that mean no one had ever touched her? Was Elsie Clarke a virgin? How deep did her innocence go? Reaching out, I placed a hand on her knee, squeezing it to reassure her.

  “You’ve never been kissed?” I whispered the question, not wanting to scare her. She seemed nervous as a jackrabbit. Her eyes didn’t meet mine, and she was pulling her shirt down with both hands now.

  Another shake of her head gave me the truth of everything. This beautiful woman had sheltered herself away from the world, away from the opposite sex, and let no other man close to her.

  Yet here I was, on her balcony, touching her. It was a heady feeling.

  At that moment, I knew what I was going to do wasn’t right, but I was going to do it, anyway.

  I leaned the guitar against the sliding glass door, took her hand, and pulled her onto my lap. She came hesitantly, but her body softened when it nestled into mine. The sensation of her weight on me was exquisite. I sighed with relief, the need to have her close to me finally fulfilled. I cupped her cheek in my hand and brushed my thumb over her lips.

  She tilted her head down, not meeting my eyes.

  “No one has tasted these lips?” My voice was hoarse, loaded with tension and arousal.

  Taking her chin in my hand, I lifted her eyes back up to mine. Her pupils were dilated and her breath was coming in quick pants. I knew she was aroused and felt the same way as I did.

  “I’m going to kiss you, El. Do you understand?”

  Her breath came even quicker. She swallowed hard and nodded her head almost imperceptibly.

  Gently, I brushed my lips against hers, and at that moment, everything slipped from my mind. I felt her ripe lips give into my exploration. Slipping my tongue inside, I tasted her. It was the sweetest flavor–pure Elsie.

  She reached her hands around my neck and tilted her head, answering my tongue with hers. Her movements were hesitant, but I understood what she was telling me. She was asking for more.

  I was happy to oblige.

  We kissed for what seemed like an eternity. When we pulled apart, my breath came in quick huffs. Her eyes were closed and her mouth remained open as she didn’t move.

  She shifted in my lap and I quickly realized my full hard-on was poking her. I grinned; it felt so amazing pressing her sweet ass down against me.

  “Don’t mind him. He has a one-track mind,” I laughed, slightly embarrassed at how quickly and intensely my body reacted to hers. She opened her eyes and looked at me, grinning.

  We sat there holding each other for several minutes, enjoying the closeness. I could tell she was deep in thought and I didn’t want to interrupt her. My own thoughts swam through my head. How amazing it was to hold her. The way she tasted like home.

  “Skyler, are you DTF?” she whispered the question so low I almost didn’t hear her.

  When I realized what she said, my head jerked back and I couldn’t control the laugh that escaped.

  “What did you just ask me?” It couldn’t be what I thought it was.

  “Amelia said you were DTF. It means down to fuck,” Elsie explained, her face deadpan.

  “I know what it means,” I said, incredulous.

  “So are you?”

  “Uh…” how did I explain this to such an innocent person? “I know the media puts out this image of me as the sort of guy who flaunts a new girl every week. Part of that is them reaching for stories. Another part is my PR firm trying to get me more exposure. I swear to you, though, ninety percent of all that crap is blown out of proportion. I could walk down the street and run into a fan who wants an autograph, but if the paparazzi get a picture of us together, we’re suddenly dating and she’s pregnant with my baby.”

  I needed Elsie to know I wasn’t the sort of guy who took advantage of women. The women I did involve myself with had no expectations of more. My mother would’ve beaten me over the head if I intentionally hurt a woman. Going home had been tough in the beginning, my mother giving me the ninth degree about wearing condoms and being polite.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” I had to give it to Elsie–she was persistent.

  I let out a frustrated sigh and pulled her closer to me. How did I explain this to her?

  “No
t universally, no. I’ll be honest with you, I’m no saint. I’m just a man, Elsie. I sometimes take women up on their offers but I don’t go around chasing it or picking up groupies.”

  Elsie’s body stiffened. Shit. That didn’t get the reaction I expected.

  “When I was younger, it was a free-for-all for Benny and me. Sowing my wild oats, though I don’t know what that really means,” I laughed. By the look on her face, Elsie didn’t know what it meant either. I’m not a farmer, dammit. “Once I realized those women weren’t really interested in me, the whole thing left a nasty taste in my mouth. I stopped getting excited when a beautiful girl lifted her shirt or when they reached out and groped me after a show. It just felt… dirty.”

  “So they wanted you, but they didn’t want you?” Her face was so adorable, scrunched up in confusion.

  “They wanted Skyler Dalton, the rock star, lead singer of MD,” I said with the flair of a baseball announcer, swiping my hand across the sky as if illuminating my name in lights. “They didn’t want the choir geek from Lemon Grove who sang gospel music at his momma’s church. In the end, that’s really all I am. Just a singer working a gig.”

  “You are not just a singer, Skyler. You are a musician. A talented musician,” Elsie said adamantly.

  I smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Elsie. Coming from you, that means a lot.”

  “Okay, so what about all those women in the tabloids? There’re always pictures and crazy stories about you,” she tilted her head and scoffed. “Are you trying to tell me you never dated Haley Michaels?”

  Again with the persistence.

  Haley Michaels was a supermodel who’d graced the cover of Vogue six times over the last two years. She was in high demand, and absolutely stunning in the modern sense. She’d been photographed attending the Grammys with me for the last two years running. We were seen at local restaurants and one time we went to New York for a movie premiere.

  The woman was beautiful, but she was as dull as a dirty mushroom. Especially in bed. I wasn’t with anyone at the time and she was willing, but I didn’t want to admit to Elsie I’d slept with her. A gentleman didn’t kiss and tell, dammit!

 

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