Abel shook his head, but his gaze moved down to the ground. “Not true. I just want the best guitarist we can find. If I’m going to be producing this album, it needs to be on my terms.”
“You’re the one who wanted to produce it,” Cole exclaimed. “We were all fine with working with Jeremy on this one.”
We’d had a million versions of this conversation over the past few weeks.
“Charlie had a vision,” Abel growled. “Only I understand the vision, so the only way we’re making this album is if I have full creative control.”
“Aren’t you missing the part where she might not even be interested?” I interjected, giving Cole a pointed look. “Maybe Silas wasn’t the one who scared her off. Maybe she just won’t want anything to do with us.”
Cole’s back straightened. “Leave that part to me. I’m confident I can convince her to give it a try.”
Silas nodded. “She’s a talented guitarist. This would be a good opportunity for her.”
“Yeah, her talent is what got your attention,” Abel snapped. “You were all staring at her like she was a piece of prime meat at the butcher shop.”
Cole glared at him. “Just because she’s a beautiful woman, doesn’t mean she’s not a great musician.”
“So you’re not going to flirt with her if she agrees to record with us?”
“I didn’t say that,” Cole retorted with a sly smirk. “But my future flirting will be no deterrent from us recording a great album.”
Abel turned toward me. “And you? Anything to add?”
My thoughts swirled. Abel and I had entered into an unspoken alliance over the past few weeks, both of us driven by a common desire to put Bleeding Moonlight to rest. I didn’t have to guess at his motivations—he didn’t think there was a band without Charlie. I wasn’t so sure, but I had my own reasons to quit.
Still, tonight had loosened my conviction. I wouldn’t admit it to the guys, but Adeline had made an impression on me that I couldn’t quite shake. I couldn’t explain it rationally. I just had this sense that something had brought her to us in this unlikely place for a reason, and dismissing it would be a mistake.
“I think if Cole manages to convince her to audition, we should give it a try,” I offered, earning an eyeroll from Abel.
“Fine,” he spit out. “If it’s three against one, I’ll play along. But if she shows up and she’s not up to par, I’m not wasting another day on her. She gets one shot.”
Cole scoffed. “Jesus. With that attitude, I think we’re the ones who are going to get one shot with her.”
“Well, if she can’t handle one day with me, how the hell will she handle a full month?” Abel retorted.
“You will behave, Abel.” Silas’s voice was as sharp as a shard of glass.
Abel’s eyes burned a path across the room before landing on the guitarist. “I’ll do my very best.”
Silas opened his mouth to argue, but I caught his attention and silenced him with a look. I’ve gotten good at knowing when Abel will not be pushed further.
“It’s settled then,” I said, glancing between the guys. With a sharp exhale, Cole turned away from Abel and gave me a curt nod.
He rose from the couch and went into the kitchen. Silas followed him. Abel watched to see if I would, too, and his shoulders dropped a fraction when he realized that I had no plans to leave.
He finished off the last of his beer and placed the bottle on the ground at his feet. “You’ve never liked this place,” he said, leaning farther back into the couch.
I shrugged. “It’s too…cold.”
His brow arched. “I can turn the AC down.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s like a show home. Pristine and perfect. What if it showed more of your personality?”
The beer bottle clanked on the marble floor as Abel rose, apparently ready to retire for the night. “If I did that, you’d never want to step inside again.”
4
ADELINE
It was past one when I finally made it home from the Barnyard. I placed my things on the floor of the living room and hopped in the shower to wash off the layers of sweat from my skin. The cascading water made for a nice soundtrack to replay the events of the night in my head.
We’d played a show at the Barnyard.
Bleeding Moonlight had showed up.
Silas had asked me to help them record an album.
An astounded laugh burst out of my lungs. What version of reality was this, and how did I get here?
He couldn’t have been serious. I wasn’t gonna get my hopes up and be all naive about it. The guy had checked me out, so maybe this was his version of a pickup line.
But what if it’s real?
If there was even a chance that this was a real opportunity, I’d have to consider it. It would pay, I assumed, although I wasn’t sure how well. Probably more than whatever we’d earned tonight.
Could I do it? I had listened to a few tracks off their last album last night, and they were pretty technical. I’d have to put in some serious practice if they wanted me to play songs like that. That meant dropping more shifts at the bar, and given that was the only place that paid me any real money, this had to be worth it. I pressed my palm against the shower tiles, placing my head directly under the shower. The water streamed over my face like a veil.
The most likely scenario was that I was never going to hear from them again. What were they even still doing here? The funeral was weeks ago, and somehow, I doubted they made a habit of spending their free time in River Valley. This all had to be a dumb joke.
I toweled myself off and glanced at the screen of my phone. There were no messages.
Padding to my room, I peeked inside Molly’s room. She was sleeping with a small nightlight on by her window. My heart broke at the thought of her leaving so soon and me being in this big house all on my own. It would make sense to sell it and move into a smaller apartment when she was gone, but that was another future problem I didn’t want to think about.
Finally making it to my bed, I wrapped the fluffy comforter around myself like a cocoon, and let my thoughts drift to the real highlight of the night. The cheers, the strings under my fingers, and that elusive feeling of being on top of the world.
“I can’t believe you didn’t even get a photo,” Molly said as we sat around the kitchen table for breakfast the following morning. When she chastised me, she sounded just like Mom, her voice all low and clipped.
“My brain was fried, along with my body. I could barely get a sentence out,” I explained, recalling my sorry physical state after the show.
“What a missed opportunity,” she commented, shaking her head at my utter failure to get any Instagram content with the members of Bleeding Moonlight. “This is why I need to be there next time.”
I sighed, my index finger rubbing against my brow. I hadn’t told her about Silas’s request, and I wasn’t planning on doing so. I didn’t get any texts, besides one from Liam to tell me that we’d made two hundred apiece last night, so I was confident at this point it had all been a joke.
“I’m going to hit the gym before my shift,” I told her, eager to change the topic. “It’s Sunday, so I’ll be off at nine. Wanna catch a movie afterward?”
“Sorry, I’m having a sleepover at Lauren’s. I told you a few days ago.”
“Oh, right.” I’d been too focused on the show for the past few days to remember. “Well, have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The gym was almost empty at one pm on a Sunday. I pushed myself to get a hard workout in, knowing it would help me feel more normal. I’d woken up this morning with a strange mix of grogginess and confusion swirling in my head. If it weren’t for the bizarre interaction with Silas, I would probably still be riding the residual high from the show, but instead, I was off-balance. My eyes kept snagging on the blank screen of my phone, each instance accompanied with an annoying prickle of disappointment. It didn’t help that every time a particularly tall guy walked b
y my bench, my mind jumped to the guitarist.
After a quick shower, I left my damp hair down to air dry while I drove to the bar. Sunday’s were usually pretty dead, so it would just be me and Jimmy, the cook, working. I popped by the kitchen to say hello when I arrived and then made my way to the bar.
A small trickle of regulars came in over the next few hours. I was wiping the counter after one of them left when I saw the door swing open out of the corner of my eye.
“You can sit anywhere you’d like,” I said over my shoulder, turning to the sink to rinse off the cloth in my hands.
A stool scraped against the ground.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a pint of Stella and your real phone number.”
I whipped around at that familiar deep voice. Cole sat at the bar, an easy smile stretched across his handsome face. He wore a cut-off band T-shirt, putting his muscled arms on display.
“What?” I asked, dumbstruck by his words.
“The number you gave us didn’t work. We’ve been trying to call you all day,” he explained, his eyes squinting under arched brows.
I swallowed. “I’m sorry. I must have said it wrong.” Did I really screw that up? It was possible. I hadn’t really been thinking straight at that point in the night.
Cole assessed my expression and seemed convinced I was telling him the truth. His shoulders dropped, and he shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Good thing we were able to get in touch with Bryan, and find out you work here. Thought I’d stop by in person so that we could chat.”
My head was spinning. He was here to chat about what exactly? I remembered he’d ordered a beer and grabbed the tap to pour him one. His fingers touched mine when I handed the glass to him, and I pulled my hand away as if I’d been burned. I didn’t know how to handle this situation.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized again. “Honestly, I didn’t think Silas was being serious last night.” Then I quickly added, “That’s what you want to talk about, right?”
He watched me as he took a sip of his beer, a smile never fully leaving his face. “I could tell he startled you. Silas comes on hard and strong when he sees something he wants.”
Warmth crept up my neck at that comment. I knew he didn’t mean it like that, but the memory of Silas’s overwhelming build did some crazy things to my insides.
“Are you really recording a new album?” I asked.
“Yeah. One of our members passed away recently. We’d finished writing an entire album right before he died, and we’ve decided to go ahead and release it. As a tribute of sorts.”
Despite the even delivery, I could see a flash of pain in Cole’s eyes as he talked about their late bandmate.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks,” Cole said, taking another long sip of his beer.
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s great you guys have found a way to honor him with your music. I’m sure he’d want the songs to be heard.” I offered him a smile that I hoped looked encouraging.
“I think so, too,” he said, a slight emphasis on the I. Did others in the band feel differently?
“But Charlie was a perfectionist,” Cole continued, “so if we screw it up, he’ll haunt us for the rest of our lives. You know, he joined the band last and didn’t play on our first album. We had decided that we wanted a second guitarist right before beginning to work on the second album, held auditions, and Charlie blew us away. We knew that without him, we’d be a worse band.”
I gave him a soft smile.
“Just like when we saw you last night and knew that we needed you to record this album.”
My face fell. They were so wrong about me. It would almost be comical if it weren’t so sad.
“Look, I am flattered,” I said, raising my palms up before putting them down on the counter in front of Cole. “Praise from you guys means a lot. But I’m an amateur. My own band is on its last legs. We’ve had a lot of fun with it over the past five years, but it’s time for all of us to move on. I have a little sister who’s going off to college, and I need to focus on finding a job that’s gonna help me pay for all that.”
“We’d pay you to record with us.”
“For what, a month of work? What then? You’re professionals. I’d need to spend most of my time learning and practicing your songs. That’s time I could use to figure out something long-term for me.”
Cole rubbed at his chest. “Why couldn’t that be music? Recording an album with us would open a lot of doors. We could introduce you to folks in the industry, help you make connections…”
For some inexplicable reason, tears stung behind my eyes as I listened to his arguments. I didn’t want to hear this. Didn’t want him to plant any ideas about a career in music in my head. I’d done that once before, and all it had brought me was misery.
“You could meet people that you could start a new band with—”
“No, I can’t,” I cut him off mid-sentence. “I don’t want to.”
Cole’s smile wavered at last. His face became contemplative. “Five thousand a week,” he said after a pause. “If it takes a month, that’s twenty thousand. What do you make here? Twelve bucks an hour with the tips? I don’t know how many hours you work, but twenty grand has gotta be at least ten times that. After you finish with us, you’ll easily be able to take some time off to figure out your next move.”
I shut my mouth, which had drifted open as he’d talked. Twenty thousand was a lot. That would make a serious dent in Molly’s tuition for next year, and maybe I could wait a bit on selling the house. Without that hanging over my head, I could afford to do some serious self-reflection and figure out what the hell I wanted to do with my life.
Cole placed his calloused palm on top of my hand, swallowing it almost entirely. I liked how warm he felt. His corded forearm caught my attention, sending a jolt of heat through me. I had a thing for guys with strong forearms, and Cole definitely fit that description.
Were they really going to pay me, a nobody, twenty thousand for a month of work?
“What do you say? Pretty good offer, isn’t it? Good enough to get you to come for an audition tomorrow?”
And that’s when my thoughts ground to a halt.
Cole’s brows furrowed as he took in my expression. “What just happened?”
I pulled my hand out from under his, dropping my gaze to the ground as memories of my last audition came flooding back. No. I wasn’t a frightened teenager anymore. I no longer froze when it came time to perform in front of people. But the word audition still sent my pulse racing, and my heartbeat pounded loudly in my head. I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans behind the counter, grateful that Cole couldn’t see.
“Adeline?” His voice was laced with concern.
“I’m sorry. I…”
Was I really going to let this old fear stop me from trying out for a gig that would pay me this well?
“Look, the audition is just a formality,” Cole added. “Abel missed a part of your set, so he wants to see you play some more of our stuff. It would just be a day of us rehearsing together. Easy-peasy.”
My lungs expanded in relief. A rehearsal? That I could do. “So it’s not going to be me, like, playing in front of all of you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.
“No, no. Nothing like that. Just a casual day hanging out and jamming together.” His smile was obviously meant to be reassuring, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t working.
I let out a long breath. “Okay.”
Cole’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Fuck. Yes.”
While I was still processing the rich sound of his laugh, he leaned over the bar, grabbed my face with both hands, and placed a kiss on my right cheek.
His lips were like velvet against my skin, soft and luxurious. I picked up on a lingering scent of cologne on his neck, something like cedar and lavender, and felt the hairs on my arms stand. When was the last time I’d been this close to a man I found attractive?
Long enough for a chaste kiss to make my pulse pick up speed.
I sucked in a ragged breath as he pulled away, and judging by the mischievous look in his eye, he had caught my reaction.
“You won’t regret this,” he said, that smile still dancing across his lips. “You got a pen and paper? I’ll write the address of the studio. We start tomorrow at nine am.”
“What if it doesn’t work out?” I asked after fetching him the items. “Will you guys let me know if I got it by the end of the day?”
Cole shook his head, his curls bouncing from the movement, and he scribbled the address down in a lopsided script. “I’m confident you’ll do just fine.”
Before I could protest, he stood up from the stool and downed the rest of his beer in two big gulps. My eyes got stuck on how his Adam’s apple moved under the skin of his neck.
“Can’t wait to tell the guys that I was able to convince you.” He slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter. “Those fuckers had the gall to doubt me.”
I snorted, feeling some of the residual tension leave my shoulders. “You seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t get to hear ‘no’ a lot.”
His expression turned flirtatious. Uh-oh. This was dangerous. “You’ll have four weeks to find out if you’re right about that.”
With a final devastating wink, he turned and left through the creaking door, leaving a lingering scent of cedar and lavender in his wake.
After Cole’s departure, I polished the bar like my life depended on it. There were only two other patrons left, giving me plenty of downtime to process what had just happened.
What the hell was I doing? They were a world-famous metal band, and I was a small-town musician, deemed not good enough even for music school. Even just being in their presence was making me all sorts of weird. Yesterday, I’d ogled Silas, and today, I’d flirted with Cole. He may have done most of the flirting, but I’d definitely been an eager participant. Was I starstruck despite my best efforts to stay chill? Oh God. This was never going to work, and I was going to leave that studio tomorrow utterly humiliated.
Taut Strings: A Rock Star Romance (River Valley Rebels) Page 5