Even one of the sexiest men alive.
In all fairness, it had been a while since she’d been in a relationship. Her job was her top priority and really, she was fine with it. Or she had been. The men in her life had all been business professionals who led fairly regular lives just like her. It was what Vivienne was comfortable with. And yet now she was wondering what it would be like to date a man who traveled, who was charismatic and charming and sexy and—
Stop it! First of all, if he didn’t remember the kiss, it probably meant it was because Matt wasn’t attracted to her. Not that that bit of information did a whole heck of a lot for her self-esteem, but it did cement the fact that getting involved with him wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t in the cards. It wasn’t part of anyone’s plan.
And that was a good thing.
Yes. She nodded. It was a very good thing. Now was the time to focus on her career and getting settled, not on sexy rock stars. Taking a bite of her slice of pizza, she felt some of the last remnants of tension leaving her body. Looking up, she couldn’t help but smile as Matt and Aaron engaged in a playfully heated debate about where to get the best pizza.
Food. That was a safe topic and one she loved to indulge in as well.
Just then, Matt let out a hearty laugh, and when Vivienne looked at him, all she could think was, Yum.
Look but don’t touch, she reminded herself. You can do this.
And again, it was a good thing.
Wasn’t it?
Chapter 3
Five days later, Aaron left on his trip overseas and Matt was alone in the house.
And he was slowly losing his mind.
At least he used to have Aaron coming home and the two of them helping Vivienne move to distract him. Now? He had nothing. Vivienne was completely unpacked—the woman was the definition of efficiency—and Aaron was going to be gone for weeks. So now what was he supposed to do?
Walking back into his bedroom, Matt went to the closet and pulled out his guitar. There was a time when just touching the Les Paul was enough to energize and inspire him. But right now there wasn’t any music in him, and he wasn’t sure if he was disappointed to admit it.
Back in the living room, he sat on the sofa and strummed a few chords. It sounded flat to him, and he figured maybe it had more to do with his mood. All of the blinds were drawn and he felt a little bit like he was living in a cave. There was almost no way anyone would be able to see into the house from the street—not with the mature trees that surrounded the property and the privacy fence—but Matt wasn’t feeling too secure in his environment yet. He’d have to think about it for a little bit longer before he’d be comfortable having the house more open or even stepping outside while the sun was out.
God, he admonished himself, paranoid much?
And the thing that seemed to bother him the most was that there seemed to be a total lull in entertainment industry scandals. Seriously, there hadn’t been a drunken brawl, a divorce, or a young actress flashing the paparazzi in weeks. How was that even possible? And while he wasn’t in the headlines, there was still enough mention of him to keep him from wanting to go out.
Forcing his attention back on what he was doing, he looked around the room and sighed. Aaron had a magnificent baby grand piano in the corner of the room. He’d admitted to Matt that he bought it more for the look than for practical purposes, and at the time, Matt had laughed. Leave it to Aaron to choose something so big and expensive that he had no intention of using.
After a few minutes of mindless melodies, Matt put the guitar down and walked over to the piano and pulled out the bench. As someone who loved to play all kinds of music, he had grown up learning to play any instrument he could get his hands on. The piano was something that had always drawn him, but it was also the instrument he’d had the hardest time learning.
Or maybe it was hard to find the time to learn on a quality piano.
He touched the keys reverently. Aaron had mentioned how, even though he rarely touched it, he did maintain it and keep it tuned. For that, Matt was thankful because until Aaron got back, there wouldn’t have been a damn thing Matt could have done about it otherwise.
For almost half an hour, he went through the basic drills he had managed to learn years ago. He even felt a little bit giddy when he remembered a few scales and arpeggios. There were plenty of mistakes, and it didn’t feel natural at first, but Matt was fairly confident that, if he worked at it a bit, he’d readily improve.
“Finally,” he murmured, “a purpose!”
When his fingers began to cramp, he stood and stretched and then opened the bench seat to see if Aaron had any sheet music inside. He felt like he’d won the lottery when he found a stack of it. Taking his find over to the sofa, Matt sat down and sifted through it, seeing if there was anything in the pile that called out to him.
There was such an eclectic variety to choose from—classical, pop, rock, and even show tunes. Matt instantly tossed the show tunes to the side. The last thing he wanted or needed now that he was feeling inspired was to be reminded of his recent failure. After almost thirty minutes of analyzing his options, he decided he was going to focus on learning four songs this week: “Stairway to Heaven” because, well, Led Zeppelin, “Imagine” because it was one of John Lennon’s best songs, “Your Song” by Elton John because the man had been an inspiration to Matt when he was growing up, and finally “Piano Man” by Billy Joel because obviously the man knew how to play piano.
There were so many classical sheets in the bunch, but Matt wasn’t looking to play on that level. He wanted songs he had connections to, songs that had inspired him and songs he could relate to and maybe incorporate into his future work.
With his decision made, he went and placed the four songs at the piano and tucked the rest back in the bench before making himself a sandwich. He felt like he had been up for days when in reality he’d slept until ten and it was only a little before one in the afternoon.
This was another thing he was having to get used to: preparing meals for himself. Although putting a sandwich together wasn’t a hardship, it certainly had been a while since he’d done it. For so long, he’d been staying at hotels and had a staff on hand to handle things like this, and he felt like he was all thumbs as he put together a simple ham and Swiss sandwich.
“Thank God no one is here to witness this,” he said with a chuckle. “I can just imagine if the damn paparazzi were lurking in the bushes and took pictures. ‘Matt Reed too incompetent to make a sandwich. Story below.’” And the sad thing was, it wasn’t all that unbelievable. Over the years, he had read plenty of stories that were similar to that one, where pictures that were simply taken at an inopportune time were turned into a media field day. It was somewhat funny when you weren’t the subject. Now that Matt had experienced it firsthand, he knew he’d never look at anything like that the same way again.
Sandwich in hand, he grabbed a can of soda and went back out to the living room. He sat down and picked up the television remote, figuring a little mindless TV watching would be okay while he ate. It didn’t take long for him to realize that daytime programming was definitely not geared for him.
“Okay, dining in silence,” he said as he shut it off. With a long-suffering sigh, he ate his sandwich—probably quicker than he should have—and cleaned up. Returning to the living room, he looked at the piano and decided there was no time like the present to get started.
It should have been fairly easy—after all, he wasn’t a complete novice—but his first few attempts at the intro to “Imagine” had him feeling completely out of his element.
“It’s not supposed to be easy,” he quickly reminded himself. “You’re a guitar player, and most pianists take years of lessons to feel completely at ease with the music. It’s okay if this takes some time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.” Then he groaned at how he was at the point in his life where he had
to offer up pep talks to himself.
With a muttered curse, he stopped, took a deep breath, and then…his fingers began to glide with a little more ease. Every time he stopped due to a mistake, he’d made it a little bit further into the song. Granted, even without the mistakes, the music was rough, crude, but it still managed to fill Matt with a sense of pride and accomplishment.
Eventually, he stopped relying so much on looking at the sheet music and let his memory of the song take over. His eyes closed as the music washed over him, and while he wasn’t anywhere near ready to go for a round of dueling pianos with Sir Elton himself, Matt knew it wouldn’t take long for him to have the confidence to incorporate playing piano into his original music.
He played through the afternoon and since the blinds were closed, he had no idea what time it was when he finally stopped from exhaustion. But it was the good kind of exhaustion—the kind that even though your muscles ached, you knew you had accomplished something. And really, considering how his past several weeks had gone, it was exactly the kind of thing Matt needed.
Standing, he stretched. His stomach rumbled and his throat was dry. “Doesn’t matter what time the clock says, it’s time to eat,” he murmured, walking across the room to the kitchen. He opened the blinds on the window over the sink and looked out toward Vivienne’s cottage. Was she even home from work yet? In all their interactions over the last week, he never did ask what her work schedule was like.
As if he’d conjured her up, Vivienne stepped outside and began walking toward the house. Matt grinned and tried not to think so hard about how his heartbeat sped up a little and how just the sight of her made him feel happy.
“You’re just happy to have someone to talk to,” he said to himself.
A minute later, Vivienne lightly knocked on the back door before letting herself in. “Hello?” she tentatively called out.
“In here,” he replied and then walked over to her.
“Hey,” she said softly. “How was your day?”
He chuckled.
“What? What’s so funny about that?”
“It just sounded a little domesticated. Like, ‘Hey, honey, how was your day?’” He shook his head and chuckled again. “I didn’t think people actually did that.”
She frowned slightly and Matt knew he had offended her.
“Sorry,” he said, his tone and expression turning serious. “I was just going to see about making some dinner.”
“Oh. That was what I was coming over about.”
He arched a brow at her.
A light blush covered her cheeks. “I, um…I was playing around with a recipe and I have enough for two if you’re interested. I mean…you don’t have to. I know Aaron stocked the house with food for you, and you may just want to be alone and—”
“Viv?” he interrupted and waited for her to look at him. “You’re rambling.”
She let out a breath and seemed to relax. “Sorry. I guess I just wasn’t sure if you would even want to…” She looked beyond him into the kitchen. “Did you already start making dinner?”
Matt looked over his shoulder and cringed. There were cabinets open and plates and silverware and open condiments all over the kitchen counter. “Um…no.”
The look on her face clearly showed she didn’t believe him.
“It was from lunch.”
“Oh, good grief,” she murmured, walking around him and into the kitchen, where she promptly began to clean up. “What in the world did you make?”
“A sandwich.”
Vivienne stopped and stared at him. “How many?”
He shrugged. “Just one.”
Her eyes widened. “All of this is from one sandwich? Are you kidding me?”
Another shrug. “I don’t mind cooking for myself; it’s the cleanup that does me in.”
A loud sigh came out as she put dishes in the dishwasher and walked around closing cabinets. “I have a feeling I’m going to be spending a lot of time cleaning up after you.”
The idea of Vivienne hanging around was pretty damn appealing, and he had to kick himself to remember his earlier resolutions to keep a safe distance from her. But what harm could having dinner together be?
“So…dinner, huh?”
Smiling, she looked at him and nodded, and Matt felt like he had been punched in the gut. Her smile lit up her entire face, and it just made him feel warm and good and…happy.
“Like I said, I was trying out a new recipe I want to feature on the site, and I think it turned out quite well. Do you like salmon?”
“Absolutely.” His mouth was already watering.
“It’s a butter-lime-glazed salmon I paired with risotto and a Greek salad.” She shrugged, almost as if she was shy. “The risotto and salad aren’t a big deal, but the salmon was something I wanted to try. Are you up for it?”
Matt couldn’t help but chuckle. Putting his hands in his pockets—because he was tempted to walk over and hug her or touch her—he nodded. “You saw what happens when I put some sandwich meat and bread together. I’d be extremely grateful for the chance to have a meal I didn’t have to make and don’t have to clean up after.”
“Hey, now,” she teased, “no one said you’re not going to have to help clean up.”
That made him laugh. “As long as it’s not completely up to me, I think we’ll be safe.”
“Good,” she said with a nod. “Do you want me to bring everything over here or do you want to come across the yard to the cottage?”
After being isolated in Aaron’s house all day, Matt was ready for a change of scenery and a little fresh air. “The cottage would be great.”
Vivienne must have sensed the reason for his choice because she chuckled. “The walls starting to close in on you?”
“I didn’t think it was possible, but yes. Maybe it’s because I’ve kept the blinds and curtains closed. It’s sort of like a cave in here.”
They walked to the back door and outside. Vivienne turned to him as they made their way across the yard. “You know you’re overly paranoid now, right? I think it’s safe to open the blinds. I haven’t seen anyone lurking in the trees.”
“Yeah but you’re at work all day.”
“So? I work from home, and I think I would notice if someone was climbing over the fence or sitting perched in one of the trees.”
Matt stopped. “You work from home?”
By this time Vivienne was at the front door of her house, her hand on the doorknob. “Um…yeah. I thought you knew that.”
He shook his head. “I…guess I didn’t realize.”
“You mean you weren’t paying attention,” she teased and walked into the house.
Following her inside, he shut the door behind him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” It was impossible to hide his irritation. For as long as he could remember, going back to when they were kids, he and Vivienne never had a problem with one another. But ever since he’d shown up here at Aaron’s, she’d been giving him a bit of a hard time and he decided he’d had enough.
She gave him a look over her shoulder that conveyed her own annoyance. “I mean you’re so used to talking about yourself and your career that you don’t spend time listening to anyone else talk about themselves. The night we first started unpacking, you stood right here and listened to me and Aaron talk about setting up my office and I know we talked about my job.” Now she turned and faced him, crossing her arms across her chest. “So you want to stand here now and tell me I’m wrong?”
He wanted to argue, but she kind of had a point. It just happened to be one that made him look like a completely self-absorbed jackass. When he looked at her, he noticed the satisfied grin on her face.
“Thought so,” she said and turned toward the kitchen.
Matt knew he could handle this two ways—try to prove her wrong or just move on.
Moving on it is, he thought and immediately went to do as she asked. “So are you feeling settled in yet?”
Vivienne shrugged and then bent to take the salmon from the oven. “I think so. It wasn’t a hard transition—I’ve been working on the place for months, so it’s a relief to finally be moved in. And the fact that everything is unpacked and all traces of the move are already gone makes things easier too.”
“I have to admit, it was impressive how organized you were. The last place I moved into I had about a dozen people helping and it still took over a month to get unpacked.”
She shook her head and tsked. “Lack of organization, my friend. Lack of organization.”
“Well, no one had an outline or a map.” He placed the dishes beside her on the counter.
“Like I said—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Plus, I kind of have a feeling your house was a lot bigger than this one,” she said, and Matt realized there was no condescension there. She was simply stating a fact.
And for a minute, he felt kind of ashamed at the excessive lifestyle he had been living. He shrugged and let out a nervous laugh. “Just a little.” Looking around, he noticed the place had a very comfortable, lived-in feel. If he hadn’t been there helping her do it, he would never have guessed she had just moved in. “What else can I do?”
“Um…” Vivienne stopped and glanced at the table. “If you can grab some silverware from the drawer on the end, that would be great.”
Nodding, Matt went to the drawer and got the utensils. “What about drinks? What are you having?”
“I’ve got water, soda, sweet tea, or wine.” When he didn’t move, she looked at him. “Oh, I’ll have wine.”
“Okay.” He was more of a beer guy and even that was in moderation nowadays. His drink of choice in the last year or so had been water, but for tonight, he’d join her in a glass of wine. He noticed the wine fridge and walked over to it. “Any preference?”
This Is Our Song Page 35