by Aly Stiles
“Did that just happen?” she whispers.
I shrug. “I mean, I was here the whole time. Sounded pretty real to me.”
She grins. “Can I do it?”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes!”
I dig my spoon back into my now melted ice cream. “Then we better get our butts in gear and finish up that song.”
“The one we’re writing? You think I should perform that?”
“I know you should,” I say, shoving the spoon in my mouth.
She grins and nods, focusing back on her own dish. She still looks stunned as she stares at it like she forgot how to eat. I smirk and glance down at my phone when it buzzes. But it’s not Viv this time. It’s Hadley.
Sorry for going behind your back, but I thought maybe you and Naomi could use a smile tonight. *heart*
Once we get home, Naomi locks herself in her room with her guitar. Even though it’s late, I ask if she wants to work on the song, but she makes it pretty clear she prefers to be alone. Can’t exactly blame her after the rollercoaster of a night we had. My own head is a mess, still haunted by today’s revelations.
With further probing, it became evident by the end of the session that not only has she been punishing herself since her mother’s death for not giving her black like everyone else, she’s also using this new look to replace the identity that got ripped away. She felt like nothing when Ashley died and had to fill the void of who she was with something else. She chose the opposite of her previous life, wrapping herself in a protective shield of “all the colors.”
She became nothing and everything.
With the rest of my night now cleared, I shoot a text to Hadley to come up if she wants. Exhausted, I toss my phone on the nightstand and jump in the shower. By the time I finish and brush my teeth, I’m starting to regret inviting Hadley. As much as I enjoy her company, I feel like I’ve never been so tired in my life. This past week has completely drained me.
I’m surprised to find Hadley reclined on my bed when I exit the bathroom, leaning against the headboard like I do when I’m working. She glances up from her phone, and my fatigue evaporates at the look she blisters at me. Her eyes scan me slowly. My hair, my face, my chest, down to the towel wrapped around my waist. They go hot, hungry, and suddenly I’m imagining her with far less clothing as well.
“Hey,” I say, my gaze resting on the swell of her breasts before it drifts to the zipper of her jeans. It’s not my fault, her hand is resting dangerously close to where I want mine right now.
“Hey,” she says, her eyes still locked on me with heat I feel on my skin.
“You have an okay night?” My voice sounds like I said something entirely different. Her gaze flares hot, and she shoves away from the headboard to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. I don’t move as she pushes to her feet.
She starts toward me, slowly stripping her sweater over her head as she struts forward with lithe grace. Her mother was right. She could definitely be a model if she wanted to be. I swallow, already burning hot.
“It was fine,” she says, unbuttoning her jeans.
I nod, unable to look away. “Great. Glad to hear it.” My eyes watch her zipper lower slowly, the hint of dark green lace taunting me beneath.
“How was yours?” she asks, pushing down her jeans and pulling them off.
I suck in a breath. “Hard. Really hard.”
Her gaze flickers to the towel for just a second before it locks on my eyes again. Another few steps and she’s close enough that I can smell her subtle clean, floral scent. As usual, whatever she’s wearing is just enough to make me a little distracted and a lot turned on. I breathe her in when her body brushes mine to reach behind me. Every muscle tenses with anticipation, coiled for a strike.
I hear the click of the lock.
She straightens again so we’re aligned just centimeters apart. She looks up into my eyes and covers my hand that’s holding the towel with one of hers. Her other hand pushes up my chest, forcing me a step back against the door. She tugs my fingers open until the towel doesn’t stand a chance.
Her smile when it falls to the floor—damn. Covetous, downright greedy as one hand presses down my abs and wraps around me sparking a jolt of heat while the other grips the back of my neck to force my lips to hers. Her kiss is soft at first, mirroring her touch that seems gentle given the look in her eyes a second ago, but soon the pressure of her strokes matches the increased desperation of her kiss. It’s like she’s the one who’s suffering with need right now.
I walk her back toward the bed, gripping her wrists to remove her hands from me. With just a slight push, she drops to the mattress, and I follow, stretching myself over her as she kicks off her underwear. I brace my forearms on either side of her and glance down at her chest.
“That too,” I say in a low voice.
She grins, her body colliding with mine in a spike of sweet agony as she shifts to remove her bra. I lower myself further when she settles back against the sheets, enjoying the tormented friction of our bodies. Her hair is slightly damp when I snake my fingers into it, her breath fresh and minty. One look in her eyes and it’s clear she knew exactly what she wanted when she came up here.
“Julian?”
“Yeah?”
Her hands slide up my chest and around my neck again, gripping hard. “Don’t hold back tonight. I want all your fire.”
I stare at her, not sure what she means. “All my fire?”
Her smile is almost shy as she draws me in for another kiss. “You’re fire and I’m water, but tonight I want to burn like you do.”
A grin spreads over my lips. “Ah. I see. You got it, babe.”
And I ignite.
CHAPTER 18
HADLEY
I can’t get Julian out of my head. He incinerated me last night, complete annihilation in an inferno that blazed hotter from the need to suppress our passion so we didn’t disturb Naomi. And yet, it still wasn’t enough. I still ached for more when I reluctantly left his apartment so we could get some rest for the next day. But it was a wasted effort.
There’s no sleep when you’re fresh out of bed with Julian Campbell.
I stare at my tired reflection the following morning, still feeling him, smelling him, tasting him. Yes, I’m straight-up craving him, there’s no other way to describe the heat burning low in my belly and the way my mind scours naked images of him in a constant loop. I can visualize every detail from head to toe, each memory fanning the flame into a sharp ache in my core, like I’ll explode if I can’t touch him in the next five seconds. And like a certifiable stalker, everything in me wants to run back upstairs to see if he’s awake yet. I’d settle for just watching him get dressed. Slowly pulling on his boxer-briefs with that wicked smirk and…
I groan and give myself a harsh evaluation in the mirror.
“You’re ridiculous,” I mutter, splashing cold water on my face. Figure this out, Hadley. This isn’t you. For the first time in almost a year, I consider calling out sick today.
But what if it is me? What if he’s bringing out new pieces of me like the surprising glimpses I’m getting of him? Water can be calm and cool; it can also flare into a raging boil when provoked by the right flame.
With the early call time today due to their recording session, I tell Viv I’ll meet her at the studio. Truth is, she’ll know the second she sees me something happened. Better that confrontation occur with witnesses present to stifle her reaction. The less people who know about what’s going on with Julian and me, the better. We both agreed it’s not the right time for Naomi to find out, and we already determined we have to be more discreet with future encounters.
We played with fire last night—and not just in a good way.
I take my time getting ready and driving to the studio, knowing I’ll just be in the way today. My plan is to set up in one of the lounges so I’m nearby if Viv needs me but not stepping on anyone’s toes. I’ve seen enough recording sessions to know
how these things work. Remain invisible—that’s my part in the process.
When I arrive, it looks like they’re already underway, tracking Max on drums. I peek through the glass to watch him pound out a solo to whatever scratch track is playing in his ears. A minute later I slip my messenger bag off my shoulder and rest it against my leg as I park outside the window to the studio for good.
I’ve witnessed plenty of recording sessions with Viv, but as a solo artist, we never got to see this side of the song. By the time it got to her, the rest was already recorded and produced, only awaiting her signature vocal. I never got to experience the backend of the process before.
“It’s pretty cool, right?”
I jump at Viv’s voice. I was so enraptured I hadn’t noticed her approach.
“I just realized I never got to see this part. It was already done by the time we got involved.”
She nods, her face lighting up. “You should come hang with us in the control room. That’s where the real magic is happening. Your boyfriend is putting on a clinic in there.”
“What do you mean?” My annoying pulse instinctively picks up at the reference to Julian.
She slants her head in the direction of the control room, but it’s hard to see much from this angle outside the studio. “He’s giving Joel a run for his money. I have a feeling the two of them will either be duking it out in the parking lot by the end of the day, or leaving here as BFFs. They both have very strong opinions about what they want.”
“Isn’t Joel the engineer?” I ask, straining for a glimpse of the action. Still can’t see anything.
“Yeah, but apparently Julian knows his way around a console and is being very particular about how he wants things.” She doesn’t seem upset though, which makes me think her guy Joel is more on the impressed end of the spectrum than irritated.
“I don’t mind watching from here. I’ll just be in the way.” I turn back to the window and see Max has stopped playing. He appears to be having a conversation with himself, so I’m assuming he’s talking to someone in the booth. The thought that it could be Julian makes my stomach all quivery again. This is getting really old.
“No you won’t. The others are hanging out in a lounge somewhere. No one’s in there right now other than Julian and Joel. The couch is totally free.”
The couch? Viv is already tugging me into the studio now that Max doesn’t seem to be recording. He’s adjusting something on one of the drums and hits it as we pass. “Is that better?” he asks.
I glance at him but he’s looking toward the window to the control room. Julian is standing inside, leaning over to talk into a mic near the console. Max nods and fiddles with the drum again. Julian straightens and adjusts the studio headphones he’s wearing. He says something to Joel who’s seated beside him, and by Joel’s chuckle I’m guessing they’re well on their way to the BFF stage of their relationship.
Still not sure about any of this, I let Viv take the lead, and she pushes through the door into the control room. Julian turns and nods to her, then softens when his gaze rests on me. He’s about to say something when he ducks his head and presses his left hand to the large headphones he’s wearing.
“No, that’s even worse. Hang on. I’m coming out.” He rips off the headphones and hands them to Joel.
“Fix the mic on the floor tom while you’re out there,” Joel says, and Julian nods.
“We’re gonna be using samples soon,” he mutters, causing Joel to snicker. “Morning, ladies,” he tosses out on his way past. All business. Interesting. Yet another side of Julian Campbell.
“How’s it going?” Viv asks Joel once we’re alone.
“Not off to a great start, to be honest. We’re having some trouble with the kit, but gotta hand it to your boy. Dude knows his shit.” Yep, Joel is definitely on board with The Julian Show. Join the club.
I watch our resident bandleader crouch beside the smaller drum near where Max is seated and adjust something. Max passes him his sticks and Julian taps out a few hard hits followed by an impressive drum roll.
Joel startles us with a single loud clap and leans toward the mic. “That’s it! We’re good. Let’s get a check on the toms.” Julian flips the sticks back to Max and says something. Max nods and starts playing again. Joel lifts a thumbs-up through the window, and Julian starts back to the control room.
“I think we got it, man,” Joel says as Julian settles back inside and grabs his headphones.
“Great. Let’s run it again from the top. I didn’t like any of that.”
Viv taps my arm and motions toward the couch.
The rest of the day continues in this vein. Whether it’s the drums, bass, or guitar, Julian and Joel bark out orders to the musicians, while speaking to each other in a language I don’t understand. I hear terms like compression and EQ and frequencies and reverb, but it means nothing to me. They move a bunch of levers they call faders and adjust a bunch of knobs that might actually be called knobs? I don’t know, but watching Julian take charge and demonstrate such technical expertise turns out to be something my girl parts really like. It’s clear he and Joel are on the same wavelength while the rest of us wait to play our little part in their show.
My phone buzzes, stirring me from my haze.
Viv: You’re drooling.
I shoot a glare at her, and she snickers beside me.
Me: Whatever. I’m interested in what they’re doing. It’s fascinating.
Viv: Right. And the fact that your guy is running things like a pro has nothing to do with your “fascination?” Talent is hot, my friend, and that guy is loaded with it.
Me: I’m telling Oliver.
Viv: Go ahead. He’ll agree with me.
I glower at the screen and emphatically tuck my phone away in a clear message. Too bad Julian pulls his out and makes mine buzz a second later. I feel Viv’s glee as I’m forced to yank it back out to check his message.
Julian: Having fun?
I glance up but he’s facing away from me, watching Travis through the window.
Me: Absolutely. I have a great view.
I snap a quick photo of his butt and send that too. The second it posts, my eyes widen in horror. What did I just do? When did I become that girl?
I clench my phone in a panic, wondering if there’s a way to retract a text, but Julian is already staring at his screen. His gaze flickers to me before he shakes his head with a smirk. Still smiling, he shoves his phone back in his pocket. Wait, did he like it?
He leans forward to rest his hands against the back of the chair in front of him, and I almost choke when I realize he’s teasing me with a better view. Heat rushes to my face, but I can’t stop the grin that settles on my lips.
You’re so vain, I type back.
He doesn’t pull out his phone this time, probably because of whatever important thing he and Joel are discussing in their weird language again.
But Viv does.
Viv: I saw that. You are so into him it’s kinda sad really. Lucky for you he’s just as pathetically into you.
Me: Thanks for the support. You’re a great friend.
Viv: Well you better brace yourself. He’s up next with lead guitar I think. Can you handle this? Should I get a bucket of ice water?
Me: I hate you.
Viv grins making it clear she’s totally cool with that.
The humor fades when Julian stiffens suddenly and pulls his phone from his pocket. His face falls when he sees the screen. After mumbling something to Joel about being right back, he stalks from the control room. In a flash, he’s gone, leaving us staring after him with concern.
“Weird. Wonder what that was about,” Viv says, squinting at the door.
My stomach clenches in knots as I chew on a nail. Should I follow him? There’s only one thing that would elicit that kind of reaction. I push up from the couch. “I’m just gonna…” I tap my foot, hesitating.
“Go,” Viv says, meeting my gaze.
I nod and follow h
is path out the door.
Outside in the main corridor, Julian is nowhere in sight. I check the lounge closest to our studio, but Beck and Max are alone, playing video games. They haven’t seen him when I ask. I move toward the main entrance but don’t see him outside through the wall of glass either. Wait… the Studio Eight lounge!
I turn and start back in the direction I came, this time passing our room and moving further down the hall. I hear a voice, and my pulse picks up when I realize it’s Julian.
“I’m on my way. Yeah… just… okay, I understand. Please just wait until I get there. She’s… no, I know but… please just wait. I’m coming right now.”
I duck around the entrance of the lounge just as he’s rushing out. His gaze collides with mine, broken and laced with fear.
“What’s going on?” I ask, grabbing his arm.
“I have to go. Can you cover for me? I… I’ll explain later. Please, Hadley.” He’s already pulling away, his eyes pleading with me to understand. I let him go and watch as he runs toward his latest crisis.
My stomach drops as I slump against the wall.
CHAPTER 19
JULIAN
It had to be today. Why the hell does everything have to go wrong all the time? I was already scheduled to meet with the lawyer tonight. A few more hours and we would have been more prepared for this, but here we are, making it up as we go yet again. I call the lawyer on my drive to Naomi’s school, and after explaining the situation, she agrees to meet me there. Pulling into a parking space, I force in a deep breath. Naomi needs me to stay calm.
After locking my car, I make my way to the building as casually as possible and push the intercom button outside the door. I tell them who I am and that I’m here at the request of Principal Leonard. They buzz me in, and thankfully, the administrative offices are right by the main door because I’ve never been inside Naomi’s school before. Who knows how long I would have wandered around before finding them? After signing in with the receptionist, I wait on one of the uncomfortable red chairs along with a few other middle schoolers who don’t look thrilled to be here either.