“How long have you been working with them?” I asked to be polite.
“A few months now. My debut single is almost ready to release. And Cade here thinks it’ll be a hit,” she said confidently.
“Time will tell,” Cade offered noncommittally.
Bridgette narrowed her eyes at him. He sipped his coffee, nervously shifting his weight.
“Anyway, I’m determined to rise to superstardom. And I’ll take Cade and Matthews’ Melodies to the top with me.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder.
I gave her a tiny smile. “A girl who knows what she wants. I like it.”
14
Trystan
Carefully, I turned the wrench to finish making the adjustments beneath the classic T-bird I was working on. A kick to my foot caught my attention and had me rolling out from under the car I’d been under all morning.
“What’s up, man?” I greeted Rafe, the drummer of our band.
“Hey. I hoped you might be able to grab some lunch so we can talk about our game plan for the meeting with Matthews’ Melodies.” Rafe rocked back and forth on his booted heels, unable to keep still.
I got up, wiping my hands on the rag hanging from my pocket. “Sounds good. Just let me tell Tim that I’m going.” I strode into the office to speak with my boss.
“Hey, man. Mind if I take lunch now? The T-bird is almost done. I should be finished by the end of the day.” While I waited for his answer, I headed over to the sink in the corner and began to scrub the grease and grime from my hands.
“No problem. Mr. Sutton will be happy to hear his car is almost ready. I think he said he’s taking it to a car show in a week or so,” Tim said. Mr. Sutton was one of our regulars who had a fairly extensive classic car collection.
“It’s a sweet ride.” I unfastened my coveralls and stashed them in the hamper. “See you in a little while,” I tossed over my shoulder as I headed back to where Rafe waited.
“Nixon’s going to meet us there,” he said as we headed out to the street, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket. A fine mist was falling outside.
Nix, our band’s bassist, worked five blocks down from the body shop. He was a tattoo artist by trade, but his true passion was music.
We dodged in and out of people moving along the bustling sidewalk. The drizzle wasn’t affecting the number of pedestrians bustling about. After we’d walked down two blocks and over three more, we arrived at Buena Comida. The rich aromas of Spanish food filled my nostrils. I headed to our normal table in the back corner. Rafe threw up his hand in greeting to his sister, who was at the hostess stand.
Valeria made her way to our table with three drinks. She set them in front of us and the third one in front of the empty seat she knew Nix would take when he arrived. “Your food is already cooking,” she said before she sashayed away.
“I love the perks of eating at a regular spot all the time,” I said and then took a long sip of my Coke.
“It helps to be able to get the family discount too,” Rafe tossed in.
“And the employee one as well,” I joked.
Rafe managed the restaurant for his parents. Though working in the family business wasn’t his dream, it definitely had its advantages while we tried to make our dreams come true.
Moments later, Nix sauntered up to our table and plopped down unceremoniously in his seat. He looked exhausted.
“You OK?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’ve just spent the last four hours doing a fairly intricate back piece. I’m wiped.” He ran his fingers through his shaggy dark hair.
Valeria returned and set our plates down on the table and refilled our glasses. My stomach growled eagerly in response.
After we’d eaten about half our food, Nix asked, “Did you finish that third song?”
“Yeah, last night, actually. You guys want to come over tonight and check it out?” I was anxious for them to hear all the new stuff I’d been working on. I’d played clips for them over the phone, but I needed to see their reactions to the music.
“Sounds like a plan,” Rafe said as he dropped his fork onto his now empty plate. “I’m off tonight, and I really need to bang on something.” We all laughed at his veiled reference to his lack of a love life as of late. He was pining away for someone … Nix and I just hadn’t figured out who.
A knock sounded on the door later that evening. I opened to find my bandmates waiting in the hallway. Nix had his bass slung over his back, and Rafe had his drum pads tucked under his arm. They stepped inside and settled around my living room, with Rafe commandeering the coffee table and Nix claiming the recliner.
I passed them each the notes and lyrics I’d jotted down so they could follow along. I sank to the couch with my guitar in my lap. Then I started to strum the upbeat song which had been in progress weeks ago, but I’d hit a roadblock on. Somehow meeting Willa had obliterated the mental block on it. The guys joined in after the first chorus.
With the three instruments together, the song sounded amazing. I knew Mack would like it, as would our fans.
“Now let’s hear what else you’ve got,” Nix said.
Taking a deep breath, I launched into a song I wrote Sunday. Without stopping, I immediately slipped into the latest song, which I’d just finished last night. Once I was done, the guys were silent for a few long moments. They looked at each other and then grinned like maniacs.
“Those are awesome.” Nix clapped me on the back. “The muse is back,” he sing-songed.
“So, with the four originals we already had and these three new ones, that leaves us one short of what that music rep wanted to hear,” Rafe noted.
I debated internally. I’d been holding back Willa’s song. My plan was to keep it for myself. But I had to share it. We needed it.
“Actually, I have one more new song …” I finally admitted.
Nix raised his eyebrows in shock. “You didn’t mention a fourth song in all our conversations.”
“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Rafe encouraged.
I closed my eyes and let my fingers find the notes to the song that symbolized so much. Three verses and choruses later, the last cord faded.
“What the hell, man? You were holding out on us,” Nix exclaimed, hopping up to thump me on the back.
“That was the best one of the four. It’s golden,” Rafe said.
“You think so?” I asked, nerves making my voice tremble slightly.
“I know so. Now, play the three newest ones again so we can learn them,” Rafe commanded.
15
Willa
Misha chattered behind me excitedly as she pushed me down the hallway on my way back from more imaging and tests. She’d been one of my main nurses the past few days. Her cheerful disposition had seeped into me, keeping my spirits up when circumstances threatened to pull me into despair. She’d been filling me in on her latest disaster of a date ever since she picked me up from the twelfth floor after my tests this morning.
“He had to stop outside the gas station to rob a vending machine just so he could take me out for a hot dog. Can you believe it?” she asked incredulously. “I can’t believe I swiped yes on him.”
“The nerve,” I responded, hoping it was the right answer since I’d zoned out through much of her tale.
“Exactly. You have no idea how lucky you are to be done with the whole dating scene. I’d give anything to have found my guy and be about to get married right now,” she said as she we arrived in my room.
My gaze dropped to the engagement ring perched on my finger. “Yeah. I guess.” Slowly, I stood and made my way onto the bed.
“Why don’t you sound more excited?” Misha asked as she pulled the stiff white sheet up over my legs.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess being unable to actually remember all the plans is stealing my excitement.”
She patted my shoulder. “It’ll get better.”
“I hope so,” I said, but my voice didn’t sound convincing.<
br />
She tucked the blankets up around me. “Call me if you need anything.”
I rested my head against the pillows. “Thanks.”
After she left, I finally decided to look through my phone for clues about what I couldn’t remember. Though Cade had brought my charger days ago, my headaches had been too severe for me to be able to focus on the screen before now. But it was time.
I swiped through my text messages. The night before I was attacked, I’d sent Sydney a message.
Me: I need you.
She’d called me immediately instead of replying. We’d talked for twenty minutes. Why had I needed her? Did I tell her why I gave Cade his ring back? Did she know what I had done?
There were a lot of unanswered calls from Cade after I’d talked to Sydney. I opened the text thread between me and Cade. He’d sent several that night, all of which went unanswered by me.
Cade: Please answer my calls.
Cade: We can figure things out.
Cade: Please don’t be hasty.
Cade: I love you, Willa.
I searched my brain, seeking a hint of whatever had been going on in my life recently. What would’ve made me end things?
But everything was blank, and my head was throbbing now. I set my phone aside and got out of bed. I slowly made my way to the bureau in the corner. The only clue I had about that night was still inside the closet. I opened the plastic bag and pulled out the sexy dress.
Holding it up in front of me, I studied it. I didn’t recognize it, but it was my size and smelled like my perfume. It had to be mine.
Where would I have gone in the dress?
Why wasn’t I with Cade when I was wearing it?
Why was I in this expensive dress on a Saturday morning in a part of the city I couldn’t remember ever going to before?
Who was going to give me the answers?
The sharp pain shooting through my skull had me retreating back to the comfort of my hospital bed. Answers would have to wait. I tucked the mystery dress under the covers with me and called Misha for some meds for my headache.
16
Trystan
Even though I had the day off, I still couldn’t manage to sleep in. I was too excited about our meeting with the record label later today. It was hard to believe my dreams were so close to coming true. I felt like I was floating.
I got dressed and fixed some breakfast. Then, before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my guitar and hopped on the subway that would take me to the hospital. It felt right to see her before I was to go perform the songs she’d inspired in hopes they’d change my world. The subway ride felt longer than normal, but I knew it was just my anxiousness that made it seem that way.
As I walked from the subway station down the block to the hospital, I decided to swing into the bakery next door. I wasn’t sure what her favorite muffin was, so I bought two, hoping one would be right. I grabbed a couple of cups of hot chocolate too. The bite of autumn was in the air, so it just felt right.
The lobby of the hospital bustled with activity. A line at the receptionist desk snaked around the corner. Thankfully, Willa’s floor didn’t require a special pass as long as it was during visiting hours, and the clock had just ticked over. I made my way to the elevator at the end of the shiny corridor. The only other occupant was a doctor who was engrossed in a file. I got off on the eighth floor. Down the hall, I could see that Willa’s door was open. I prayed I wouldn’t have another encounter with Cade. It was getting harder and harder to not to call him out on what a lowlife he was.
I paused in the doorway and cleared my throat.
Sitting in the recliner instead of the bed, Willa looked up from her Kindle and beamed at me. “Trystan, what are you doing here?”
I lifted my hands. “I come bearing gifts.”
Her eyes widened in anticipation. I strode across the room and placed the tray of hot chocolate and the bag of muffins on the little table.
She inhaled deeply. “I smell chocolate.”
“Hot chocolate. It’s starting to get brisk out there, so I felt like a cup this morning.” I shrugged my guitar case off my back and leaned it against the wall. “And …” I unfolded the top of the bakery bag and carefully removed the two muffins. “I brought muffins. I wasn’t sure which you’d like, so I got a berry-licious blueberry muffin and a double chocolate chip streusel muffin.” I held up one in each hand.
Her eyes darted back and forth between the two tempting treats. The tip of her tongue poked out through her parted lips. “Gah! I can’t pick. I love them both. You choose.” She threw her hands up helplessly.
I set both down on napkins. Then I carefully broke each one in half, swapping the left side of both so that now one half of each muffin perched on the napkin.
“You’re a genius,” she exclaimed and clapped her hands excitedly.
I slid one of the napkins closer to her. Gingerly, I freed our hot chocolates from the paper tray. Eagerly, she took her cup from me. Tingles shot down my arm when our fingers brushed during the exchange. All I could remember was feeling her soft hands on me, her slender fingers running through my hair, tracing down my torso, wrapping around my cock. My gaze shot to hers to gauge if she’d felt anything at all in that innocent kiss of skin on skin.
She blushed prettily at me. Both hands gripped the cup as she brought it to her lips to sip the chocolate heaven inside. The moan that rumbled in her throat was sinful and immediately sent me back to that night.
Thankfully, the little rolling table blocked her view of my crotch. There’d be no way to deny the effect she was having on me. I shifted, trying to subtly adjust myself.
“So, does breakfast come with entertainment?” she asked, nodding at my guitar case.
To buy myself a moment, I took a fortifying sip of the rich, warm chocolate. I closed my eyes, savoring the decadence. When my lids fluttered open, I found her staring at me expectantly.
“Well … I … uh … my band and I have a meeting with a rep at a record label later today. I’m going to go straight there from here. So, I had to bring my guitar with me,” I finished lamely. My fingers broke off a piece of the blueberry muffin and stuffed it into my mouth so I would shut up. Apparently, I had lost any smattering of game I’d ever possessed.
“That’s awesome. Maybe when I get out of this joint, I can come hear your band play sometime. Oh, and if things don’t work out with the record company you’re meeting with, I might be able to get you a meeting with someone I know in the industry,” she offered happily.
“I’ll hold you to that if this doesn’t go well.” I gripped my cup just to have something to do with my hands. My fingers itched to brush the stray lock of hair back behind her ear.
“Have you always wanted to be a rock star?” she asked, then popped a bite of the berry muffin into her mouth as she waited for my answer.
“I think most boys go through a phase where they dream of being a rock star. Screaming fans, parties, hot girls …” I shook my head with a chuckle, then my tone turned serious. “Performing my songs has always been a dream. The desire has only grown as I’ve gotten a taste of it in the bar we play in regularly. There’s nothing like the feeling of singing to a crowd and having them sing along with me. Or connecting with someone through my songs. It’s … indescribable.”
“Sounds amazing,” she said breathlessly. Dreamily, she nibbled on the chocolate decadence that had been fashioned into a muffin.
“It really is. So, how have you been feeling since I saw you last?” I asked, changing the subject.
The smile fell off her face. Her sadness made my heart ache. I found myself leaning toward her and having to make a conscious effort to not touch her, comfort her.
“Physically, I’m feeling better. Just a little sore. But I still can’t remember anything from the last six months. And I have this nagging suspicion that during that time I did something awful. Something unforgiveable,” she whispered as tears glistened in her eyes. She plucked a tissue f
rom the box and started to shred it.
“I find that hard to believe,” I hastened to assure her. The threat of her tears was ripping me up inside.
“Me too, but what do I know? Cade swears that all is forgiven and forgotten. But shouldn’t I know what I did that needed forgiving?” Her expression was so vulnerable, the kind of look that made me want to slay all her dragons.
I didn’t know how to respond, so I took a healthy sip of my no longer very hot chocolate.
“And what’s worse, I feel like Sydney knows what happened too. I want to ask for answers … No, I want to demand answers. But the doctor insists I need to remember things for myself.” She dabbed at the corner of one eye, capturing a tear poised to fall. “So, I’m feeling kind of torn. How can I forgive myself for whatever I did when I don’t know what I did in the first place?”
“Maybe you didn’t do anything. Maybe someone else did.” I couldn’t help it. I hated seeing her carry a guilt that wasn’t hers to bear.
“Maybe,” she murmured, though she didn’t look so sure.
I reached across the table and took her hand in mine. “I’m sure you’re going to remember everything soon. In the meantime, how about we finish this terribly unhealthy breakfast and rot our brains with some reality TV?”
My suggestion got a laugh out of her. “That sounds wonderful.” She ate a bite of the blueberry muffin. “I can’t decide which of these tastes better. Which is your favorite?”
Lowering my hand over the remnants of each of my halves, I leaned closer to her and dropped my voice conspiratorially, “I alternate. But don’t let them know that. Each one thinks it’s my favorite.”
The giggle that erupted was unbridled, and it made my heart soar. Our gazes held for a long moment, and electricity crackled between us. Slowly, I lifted my hand and ran my index finger across her bottom lip. She shuddered beneath my touch.
Memory of a Melody Page 9