Out of the Blue

by Dee J. Adams

  Chapter Twelve

  Casey woke up, her eyes gritty. The dim bedroom came into focus, the line of three beds next to hers all decorated with different solid colored duvets that matched the walls and furniture. Two weeks ago, she’d grabbed the first bed, purple. The others had sorted between green, red and yellow.

  Now, two of those beds were empty.

  She turned on her back, the muted purple wall decorated with colorful abstract art screamed at her to wake up and write despite it being—she checked her phone—five-thirty in the morning. She hadn’t been sleeping well and now the pressure was mounting with two second place finishes in as many weeks. She was the only one to land in the top two spots both weeks and it marked her as a serious threat.

  Her spirits lifted thinking about the coming week. She’d picked Seger again and couldn’t wait to come up with a new song. Seger proved to be one of the most versatile artists simply because he’d revamped his own sound so drastically. Really, every artist on the show had the ability to sing anything, but having Seger on her side gave her more confidence.

  She still wished for a minute alone with the guy without cameras rolling. She wanted to know what he thought about his assistant being part of the show. Casey was fairly certain that Seger didn’t know anything about her where Brendan was concerned. She didn’t get any type of weird vibe from him at all.

  It had been an awkward time, trying to figure out how far she could go during collaborations. Artists tended to be picky about their music. She definitely was. But how far did she push when it came to an icon singing her song? The celebrities realized they had to let the contestants pen the song, but they weren’t banned from helping with the music. It made the process more of a collaboration, which made the songs stronger.

  Casey chuckled to herself remembering Zoe and Vic’s clues as to this week’s genre. “When you give a birthday present or shower gift or a Christmas gift, you have to do it,” Zoe said. “When a TV show finishes its episode or when someone pounds on the door,” Vic had added. Casey had literally scrunched her face up into a ball. What? It took a few minutes to figure it out. Rap.

  It was still going to be interesting to hear Seger Hughes sing a rap song. Hell, she hoped she could write a rap song. Though she loved all kinds of music, she had to be honest that rap wasn’t her favorite genre. Not even close. So how did Seger feel about it? So far, anyone stuck with a genre and an artist that didn’t excel in that genre had lost their spot on the show.

  Tossing the covers off and sitting up, Casey looked at Lisa sleeping soundly in the third—yellow—bed, her blond hair streaming across the pillow. They were the only two women left. Those of them lacking the Y chromosome seemed to be dropping fast.

  Casey pulled her notebook from the small nightstand next to her bed and stared at the blank page. Rap. Rap. Rap. What the hell did she know about rap? She scribbled absently as words tussled in her head, searching for space, for continuity. When she looked down, the initials BSJ stared up at her.

  Brendan.

  A flush heated her face. It didn’t matter that Lisa won last week’s show, Casey considered Brendan her biggest competition. It kind of sucked. The man didn’t seem to have a talentless bone in his sculpted body.

  The toughest part was looking into his eyes and knowing what he wanted to talk about. It was the thing she wanted to talk about least. Yes, she’d walked out. She never dreamed she’d see him again so was it such a crime? He had as good a night as she did, so…

  Lisa rolled to her back and started snoring. No way to work with that soundtrack in the background. Casey quietly got up, made a pit stop in the bathroom to brush her teeth and snuck out. Wearing her white sleep shirt and shorts, she padded to the designated quiet room with her pen and paper hoping to get some words down before the day started for real.

  Casey opened the door and stopped short when she saw Brendan already sitting at one of the two small desks. Her brain and heart fought a battle. Her brain said, walk out the door, but her heart wanted her to sit on his lap, take the pen out of his hand and kiss him senseless.

  His eyes flashed up then filled with heat. His long hair hung to his shoulders in messy waves…the rumpled look suited him. “Good morning,” he murmured, his voice early morning rough and so very sexy. He probably would’ve sounded exactly like this in Hawaii if she’d stayed long enough to find out.

  It took her a second to find her tongue. “Hi. Sorry. Didn’t realize anyone was up…or here.” Her brain won this round and she took a step back.

  “Wait!” Brendan stopped her, his hand out. “There’s room if you want to share.” He motioned to the other spots. A leopard print beanbag with a lap desk, a black leather recliner and a small white desk across from the maroon one Brendan currently used. The house was big on crazy color schemes.

  Casey hesitated. She sometimes hummed when she came up with new songs and she didn’t want to give anything away. Hell, she wasn’t even sure she could concentrate long enough to come up with anything with Brendan in the same space.

  “C’mon,” he coaxed. “I won’t make a sound.” He gestured with his head for her to come back. Those pleading blue eyes were hard to resist.

  As usual, he cracked the wall she kept trying to build, and her lips quirked up. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

  His straight white smile made her heart stutter. The man was all sorts of delicious. “Noisy songwriter, I take it?”

  She tipped her head from side to side. “Possibly.” What the hell. She couldn’t work with Lisa snoring in their room and any other part of the house might have one of the other guys. At least she liked Brendan’s company. Casey moved into the room and crashed onto the beanbag. They worked quietly for a while as she toyed with words, phrases and music. She thought about the early rap years and music by Will Smith to the hardcore beats by Eminem. What made those songs so appealing? The heart and soul of the story they told. So what story could she tell?

  Breaking free. Living life. Getting out. Finding me.

  Hm…maybe…if she flipped it.

  Living life. Breaking free. Getting out. Finding me.

  “I like that,” Brendan murmured, turning to her.

  Casey met his gaze and felt a hot blush stain her cheeks. “Was I humming?”

  He nodded. “Kind of catchy.” He repeated the familiar tune running through her head. “Go ahead. Do it again. I’ve got something for it.”

  Humming the music, Casey started at the beginning and Brendan joined in with a harmonizing riff. They watched each other for changes, signaling higher or lower as they continued. The sounds blended together in a perfect storm of notes. They hit a snag and both laughed at the misstep.

  Brendan grabbed her wrist and pulled her up. “C’mon. Come with me.”

  “Where?” Casey laughed as he dragged her down the hall and into the music room. Piano, keyboard, guitar, bass, drums…if it played music it occupied space. The show had cameras everywhere to ensure they caught every step in the process of each new song as it and the writer evolved.

  Brendan grabbed the guitar and started playing the tune they’d been humming only he turned the beat into a ballad. Casey caught on and sat behind the piano, picking up the third line and nodding her head in time with the music.

  Again, they watched each other for changes. Then from out of the blue, Brendan started singing: “Remember that night not long ago. You took my hand we danced long and slow. Your kiss was like something I’ve never known. And I wanted to make you my own.”

  A full body chill raced down Casey’s spine and she jumped in with a chorus. “But life rarely happens like we want it to. We stumble and fall, stumble and fall. What if I said I’m sorry now. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you. We just stumble and fall, stumble and fall.”

  Brendan shook his head, the pain in his eyes guaranteeing that she’d hurt him when she’d left without a word. “I want to hold your hand again, kiss your lips again. I want to walk in paradise
with you by my side. Forget the world and call you mine again. Don’t run and hide. Don’t run and hide.”

  Casey’s throat tightened with emotion. “But life rarely happens like we want it to. We stumble and fall, stumble and fall. What if I said I’m sorry now. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to hurt you. We just stumble and fall stumble and fall.” She looked away and slowed the beat. Brendan followed her lead and together they played the last haunting notes.

  Pressing her lips together, Casey blinked back the sting in her eyes. Guilt swamped her like the wave that morning in Hawaii. A few moments later, the sound of Maroon 5’s “Daylight” filled the room and she looked over her shoulder.

  Brendan stood by the sound system, which contained thousands of songs, basically any type of music ever created. The music was there for inspiration or recreation, whatever the contestants needed. He held his hand out just like that night at the restaurant. Casey took it and waited. He put her arms around his neck, his hands around her waist and pulled her close.

  She forgot how solid he was. How warm and strong. But this was still a mistake. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “All of America is going to be watching this when they edit the show together.”

  “So what? Dancing’s not against the law.” He turned her, pulled her back in and swayed as the music drifted around them.

  “They’re going to make a big deal out of it. They’re going to put us together and pit us against each other. They’ll speculate and—”

  “I don’t give a shit,” Brendan murmured against her ear. Tingles shimmied down her spine. He felt so good, his quiet strength wrapped around her as they moved to the music.

  The audience might not hear his whisper since the mics that were running twenty-four seven were out of earshot at the moment.

  The more they swayed against each other, the more she felt his interest crop up low against her stomach. His hand moved down the center of her back and he rested the tip of one finger right at the top of the divide between her ass cheeks. An erogenous spot she’d never realized she had until their night together. He’d touched that spot and she’d nearly gone off like a rocket.

  She gasped and clenched her jaw, fighting the streaks of instant lust that shot through her like fireworks on the Fourth.

  Brendan had swayed them right into the corner of the room so no one saw where his sly hand rested or how his wicked finger circled and pressed into the one little spot that drove her crazy. At this point the pretense of a dance had gone out the window. They just held on tight, heads next to each other. His warm breath wafted against her ear as they stood.

  “Bren.” She barely got his name out. She wanted to rub against his front. Rub against the finger teasing her in back. In response, he pressed his thigh between her legs. Oh God. She wanted more. Needed it and there was no way in hell she was going to get it.

  “Want you so much.” His soft words barely penetrated her dazed mind. No way any microphone could pick up those words. Hell, she barely heard them.

  “Can’t,” she murmured back. Even though she wanted to more than anything. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, pushing, filling her, giving her all the satisfaction she could handle and more.

  “I know.” He sighed and pulled away, looking into her eyes, searching for something. She had no idea what. “Hey, Case?” His voice was still whisper soft.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can I kiss you?”

  A full body chill broke out on her skin. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t kissed her before, but the audience didn’t know that. Clearly he was checking for permission because of the thousands—maybe millions—of people who would be watching when this aired. He was so sweet to ask.

  This was the shit they hated about reality shows. The private stuff that should remain private since the show was supposed to be about their musical talent. The relationship between two people shouldn’t matter and no one else had a right to know.

  What about her parents! They’d flip their lids if she kissed a guy on national TV. Blatant displays of affection should be behind closed doors. Decent people did not kiss in public. And Jeff…he’d lose complete control if she kissed someone for the world to see so soon after their breakup. Not that she really cared what he thought, but—

  “Case?” He was still waiting, his gaze sincere and molten hot at the same time. Screw what other people thought. She got to live her life her way and at the moment she wanted his kiss as much as she wanted to win the show.

  She nodded, a barely-there shake of her head, and his smile warmed her from the center of her chest. He moved in so slowly, so movie perfect. Women across the country were going to fall in love with him after this. Well, they could suck it, because she got first dibs.

  His lips hovered right over hers before gliding whisper soft across her mouth. A sweet, innocent kiss. As if it was a first, when they’d already devoured each other multiple times in paradise.

  After eternal seconds of teasing her lips, he went in for the real deal, coaxing her lips apart when she gasped into his mouth as that hidden finger delved right between her ass cheeks. He took her fully, laying claim with his tongue, taking her sanity and her breath with one red hot kiss sure to melt panties in all fifty states. Stroking deep into her mouth, he didn’t hold back. He tasted like toothpaste and Brendan, like the best part of morning. On and on their tongues tangled in a glorious wet reunion. When he finally pulled away from her, Casey was dazed, breathless and in dire need of release.

  Brendan removed his roaming hand and held her steady, both hands on her waist. His blue eyes were on fire, his breathing as unsteady as hers.

  “Nice to meet you, Casey Turner,” he said. His voice sounded low and sexy and she wanted to inhale him in one bite. “I hope we can become great friends, and maybe more.”

  Casey couldn’t tear her gaze away from his intense eyes. Long seconds ticked by and she wondered if he might kiss her again. Hoped he’d pull her close enough to absorb all his heat and the incredible feeling of confidence and lust he sparked in her.

  “Breathe,” he whispered, a half grin lifting his lips.

  She blinked and took in much needed air.

  “I guess we should get back work,” he said, shifting away from her.

  She nodded. “I guess so.” She swallowed, exhaled an unsteady breath and realized he still had his back to the camera for a very good reason. “Here,” she said, ducking past him. She grabbed his guitar and handed it to him as he turned, effectively blocking the erection beneath his nylon workout shorts.

  “Thanks.” A blush stained his cheeks and she wondered if the audience would see it.

  “Sure.” She backed up toward the door. “I’ll just head back to…” She pointed outside. “You know…the quiet room.”

  He nodded. “Okay. See you later.” His very blue eyes tracked from her toes to her mouth and sent another delicious chill down her spine. Casey bit her bottom lip to keep from saying something stupid like, “Wish you could fuck me later too.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Casey didn’t get out fast enough. Jack barreled into the room effectively pushing her back inside.

  “Making beautiful music together?” Jack asked, heading to the keyboard. Brendan didn’t know if he meant that in the literal or figurative sense, but he didn’t care either way. “Don’t mean to break up a party, but it’s my designated time so,” he gestured for them to scram, which meant Brendan had to give up the guitar and leave.

  Casey must have guessed his predicament because she held out her hand. “Here, I’ll set the guitar back in its stand.” Since she blocked his body from the camera, Brendan took her up on the offer and together they walked from the room with Casey shielding him for the most part.

  “Thanks,” Jack called from behind them as Brendan closed the door.

  They ended up back in the quiet room, but Brendan felt anything but quiet. He wanted to shout, to dance, to celebrate. Having Casey on board for that kiss meant he had a shot
with her. She disappeared in Hawaii, but at least she hadn’t said no to him now. The first thing on his agenda the minute the cameras were off was to find out what exactly she needed to process. He wanted to hear it from her.

  Damn, he’d opened a can of worms with that kiss on national TV. He’d done the exact thing he hated about these shows and he hadn’t given a thought about it in the heat of the moment. All he’d wanted was to taste Casey again, feel her lips under his, her tongue stroking against his. Well, mission accomplished, dickhead.

  “You excited for this week?” Casey asked from her spot on the beanbag. Her cheeks still had a pretty blush and Brendan hoped it was because of their kiss. “You’re going to love Carrie. She’s great. I had so much fun with her last week.”

  Brendan had barely stayed on the show last week, coming in second to last with Ryan Tedder, so he was glad to have one of the top celebrities this time around. “You’re on a roll,” he reminded Casey. “Two second place finishes.”

  “Look who’s talking, Mr. I Won the First Week Right out of the Box.” Her smile absolutely wrecked him. She could give a dead man a boner with that smile.

  Brendan forced his mind back to the conversation and shrugged. “Beginners luck. After last week, I’m not sure it means anything.”

  Casey shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re loaded with talent.” She cocked her head. “Why didn’t you tell—” She stopped and her eyes widened.

  Figuring she’d been about to blow the fact that they knew each other before the show, or even worse than that by mentioning Seger, Brendan jumped in to save her and himself. “Why didn’t I tell you that I’m a great songwriter while you were sitting on my lap in the car? Modesty.”