Page 5 of A Duet of Darkness and Dreams

Just my luck.Dave’s words from earlier rush forward.

“Any publicity would help them build up their fanbase. Seriously,anythingwould help. And I can almost guarantee your journalism creeps wouldn’t expect you to write an article about a metal band.”

Mouth twisting, I consider it. It’s true—the guys at the newspaper would never entrust me with an article covering a band, and being backstage and getting to know the band would definitely give me an advantage. And even though it gives me the heebie jeebies to even consider it, Icouldsubmit it under a man’s name, then come forward when they ask who wrote it.

A sly smile spreads across my face. “Yeah, all right! That’s a great idea. You don’t think they’d mind?”

She turns to James. “You wouldn’t mind if Isabella wrote an article about the band for the college newspaper, would you?”

He stops fiddling with the strings on his guitar and raises his brows. “No, that’d be wicked. Can you really do that?”

I lift my hands and shrug. “I can try, as long as you guys don’t mind me hanging around, asking a few questions?”

James shakes his head. “Not at all. Hey, guys,” he says to the others. “Isabella’s going to write an article for the college newspaper about us. You’ll be cool, yeah?”

Joel and Key nod their heads, and I smile as I reach for my bag.

“Do you need paper?” James asks.

“No, my notebook is in here somewhere,” I say. “I never leave my apartment without it.” Tissues, lipstick, chewing gum, a lighter, an unopened pack of cigarettes, my keys—oh . . . where’d my keychain go?

“We’ve got some paper over here, if that works,” James suggests, but then I spot the little notebook and exhale triumphantly.

“I got it!” I look up, my eyes finding Dave’s for the first time since I sat down, and nervous butterflies erupt in my stomach, the notebook toppling out of my grip and onto the floor. My face burns as I snatch it up, wildly flipping through the pages to avoid seeing any more of the amused smirk on Dave’s face.

“So,” I say, pulling the cap off a pen with my teeth. “How did you all meet?”

I take asmany notes as I can, filling several pages on how Key and Joel met in military school and how they met Dave at a showing ofEvil Dead. I’m surprised to learn that they kicked out their lead guitarist only to find James, who was working at a bar back in Iowa while finishing high school. From there, Dave received a letter from a Megaloud executive that he’d be in town and had listened to their demo tape. Next thing they knew, they were being asked to pack up and head out here to San Francisco.

While they tell me all of this like we’re friends, there’s definitely more to their story. It’s in the way they look at each other for a long moment before answering some of my questions, even Becks looking nervous once in a while. Though I understand not wanting to spill your guts to a stranger, I’d never write anything they weren’t comfortable with. I’m surprised that Dave is so quiet. In fact, he doesn’t speak at all, and in the hour I sit here, he doesn’t look over at me once. While I’m not so full of myself to think guys should be looking at me all the time, surely he’d look over and our eyes would meet purely by chance? But no. Not. Once.

I thought there was something between us. Some spark. I mean, I certainly felt it. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe his finger twirling in my hair, or the way he whispered in my ear, or the way he stood so close to me even though he didn’t have to was all just me reading too far into nothing. Maybe he does that to all women. Perhaps my loneliness is starting to make me lose my mind.

Or maybe he was just distracted by the broken cable.

“Why did you choose to be a musician?” I ask.

James fiddles with a silver rose ring on his hand. “I had a hard childhood. Music was the only thing that drowned it all out. I guess learning to play the guitar was one of the things that saved me.”

Becks squeezes his thigh, and he gazes at her with such adoring sweetness that I have to look away. There’s a knock at the door, and a short, stocky man pokes his head inside. “Carnal Sins, you’re on in five.”

I press my lips together and flip my notebook shut, stuffing it back into my bag as the guys collect their things. Becks sweetly kisses James before grabbing my arm to pull me along to a reserved table to the right of the stage. Pulling my camera out of my bag I set it down between us.

“Is it okay if I take some pictures for the article?” I ask.

Becks smiles wider. “Of course!”

I nod and pick it up to adjust the settings as the lights dim over the stage and the four boys take their places. Looking around, I can see what Becks means when she says the band has been having a bit of a hard time lately. While the bar isn’t empty by any means, it also isn’t full to the brim. Definitely not the kind of sold-out performance they probably wish for. My gaze turns back to Dave, and I watch as he settles behind the bass drums and spreads his legs—the wordsCarnal Sinswritten across the front in red letters. How can such a simple move be so sexy?

Key steps forward to the microphone and welcomes everyone to the show. I lift my camera and snap a few pictures, adjust the settings a little more, then look through the lens again. Dave’s eyes are on me, searing me from the inside out even through the camera—looking at me like I’m the answer to all of his prayers.

The moment I drop the camera he looks away, and with a violent crash of his cymbals, my heart seems to shake, rattle, and boom right along.

CHAPTER 2

Brown Eyed Girl

DAVE

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