Page 64 of Deeper

“?‘Canvas’ is finished,” Zander told me.

“Can I hear it?”

“Absolutely not.” He turned away from me and began gathering our leftovers to store in his fridge. “It drops next Friday, though. I went to the studio Monday and I found the melody and wrote the lyrics. Tuesday I laid down my vocals, and they mixed and mastered it yesterday. We want it to be the lead single for Z3. Paul thinks it’s really good.”

I narrowed my eyes. “You wrote a song aboutmybody, and I can’t hear it before the rest of the world?”

Zander hung his head as he shut the refrigerator. “I’m nervous, Bi.”

A nickname—although I really liked hearingBiankafrom him. I didn’t let this distract from the fact that he was being really stingy.

“Please don’t go cliché and quote Erykah Badu and tell me how you’re an artist and are ‘sensitive about your shit,’?” I mocked.

Zander focused on throwing out the trash. “Well, I am.”

Unbelievable. “I guess you won’t be seeing your inspiration until next Friday then, huh?”

Zander looked up at me, eyeing me funny. “Bianka.”

I folded my arms. “Zander.”

Shit. He really was nervous about this song, despite being happy to be creating new music, previewing some of it for me, about me, was something that made him shy.

Before I could give in, Zander yielded and gestured out of the room. “I have a cut on my mobile, but… Let’s go hear it live.”

I led the way to his living room. Right away, I noticed on top of the piano was a notepad and upon closer inspection, in Zander’s sharp handwriting, I could make out a building track list for his album. At the top of the pad he’d scrawledZ3, and then by asterisks he written down several song titles.

* Canvas

* Trial & Error

* War

* I Never

“Nosy, nosy, nosy.” Zander materialized behind me, coming and snatching the writing pad away from me.

“Sorry,” I let him know.

He snuck me a look. “Bear in mind this is myfirstsong I’ve written on my own. There’s still time to get someone on my team to step in and perfect it, but I just thought that it was good by my sole hand since I know the source material so close and personal. If it’s terrible, Bianka, just—”

“Zander.” I placed my hand on his arm. “Just shut up and play.”

After heaving a sigh, Zander sat at the piano and let his fingers flow across the keys. The melody was solid, confident, and strong as he played. For a while, that was all he did, building himself up to sing to me what he’d written so intimately. When he opened his mouth and let out the first note, my breath got caught in my throat and remained there until he was finished.

Your body is a canvas

Baby let me paint the ways

Strokin’ in slow motion babe

Let’s get on the same page

I’ll sculpt your body right, girl

Makin’ art all night

Could drown inside your watercolor, just think I might

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