Page 121 of The Drummer

I clear my throat and press the space bar to pause the track.

“I’m not getting the timing on that part. Is it…”

He quiets, and I rub at my eyes.

“You okay? What’s wrong?”

I make the mistake of glancing at him, but seeing him there, in-ears hanging around his neck like we’re backstage again, it’s too much.

“Nothing, man. It sounds great,” I say in a strained voice.

“Seriously, Case. If this isn’t working you can?—”

“No!” I rush out, swiveling to face him. “No. It’s amazing. It’s…”

I don’t have words for what this is. Hell, I don’t evenknowwhat this is yet, and his expression softens with understanding.

“Yeah, man,” he says quietly. “I get it. I feel it too.”

“You do?”

My gaze lifts to his and he returns a weak smile. “I’m not ready to make promises or put labels on it, but yeah, I feel it.” Moisture fills his eyes when he directs an absent stare at the desk. “And for someone who stopped feeling anything months ago, it’s…”

His voice fades out. He scrubs at his eyes before directing them to me. “Do you know how good it is to feel something again?Anything?Shit.” More tears cloud his gaze. He shakes his head, looking lost.

I push up from the desk chair, and he pulls me in for a hug. For a long time neither of us moves. We just stand there and let the music heal us like it did all those years ago. Like it will the next time we need it to do what nothing else can.

“I don’t want to do this without you anymore, dude,” I whisper, breaking the silence. “I don’t think I can.”

His arms tighten around me, and I’m praying he feels how much I need him.

After a long silence, we separate with an awkward smile and turn back to the laptop in unison.

“Can we change the lyrics in verse two?” he asks. His voice is as raspy and damaged from emotion as mine.

“Of course. What are you thinking?” I pull up the notepad app with the lyrics.

When I glance back at him, he’s staring at the diner chair again. His gaze is distant, like he’s somewhere else.

“The mirror needs to break,” he says faintly. “No… It needs to shatter.”

I swallow a mass in my throat. “Yeah, man.” I try for casual, but my hoarse tone gives me away. “How about, ‘mirror mirror you’re shattering, there’s more than meets the eye with me’?”

His gaze cuts back to me. He searches my face.

“Let’s try it,” he says. “You want to run it again? I think I’m ready to record this time.”

I’m exhaustedby the time we wrap our session. Mentally, physically, emotionally… but I wouldn’t trade a single second for the world. This is the shit we live for, and being back in the studio with Luke—even if it’s a hotel room—is everything.

I’m not surprised when he heads back to his bedroom to recover. I feel drained as well when I find Callie in the living room. Based on how depleted I am, I can’t even imagine what that session did to him. But it’s different this time. I’m not scared when we part ways. I know he’ll be back. And it’s the first time since he left me alone in a hospital room a year ago that I can say that with any certainty.

“Want a beer?” I ask Callie on my way to the kitchen.

She’s alone, so Eli and Sweeny must have gone to their rooms… or somewhere else to cause trouble. Secretly, I’m glad. Luke isn’t the only one who needs time to recover from what just happened.

“Sure,” Callie says. “Sounds like it’s going well.”

She takes the bottle I hand her as I join her on the couch.

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