Page 12 of Hold Still

She huffs out a small breath. “I thought it would be good for the wedding. You know, festive and all.”

I twirl a white lock around my finger, bring the softness to my lips and kiss it. She shakes her head and leans back even further into the soft leather seat. Sighing, I retreat. “So, ah, what have you been up to lately? Haven’t seen you around Vegas.” Hmmm, at all. Has she been avoiding me?

“I’ve been keeping busy. Working on the Artist Adventure Avenue Project, you know.”

“Oh, right.” How could I forget? They’ve been hounding me for songs for their exhibition. Of course, Platinum insists that they be mynewsongs. “How’s it coming along?”

She twists and puts one leg under the other. Damn. What I want to do with those legs.

“It’s good, actually. I’ve finished up the part of my presentation for all the other artists but you.” Her eyes bore into mine.

Fuck. “Oh. How many were there?”

“Sex.” Her mouth forms a perfect circle and eyes grow wide. Clearing her throat, she says, “Six. I meant six.” She holds up six fingers. “And I know Felicia, my contact at the Project, has reached out to you for your songs, but I haven’t seen them yet. Did you send them to her? I’d like to dive right in when we get back.”

“Freudian slip?” I chuckle and reach out to skim her bare arm. No need to keep talking about such an unpleasant topic.

She pulls her arm back. “Ozzy. I told you I’m not sleeping with you. I only needed a ride back tonight.”

Something in her voice clues me in that she’s none too happy with her decision. “What’s the hurry? Didn’t you have a flight booked?”

She turns her head toward the windows, but since it’s dark out I know she can’t be admiring the view. For the second time tonight, I want to know what she’s hiding.

“Something came up at home that needs my attention right away. I could’ve waited for my flight, but since you had this at your disposal, I thought I could get back sooner. Must be nice to have a private plane on speed dial.”

Yeah, right. I stifle a snort. If she knew my now ex-wife cleaned me out right before I hopped onto this borrowed plane, maybe she wouldn’t be busting my balls about it. “Looks can be deceiving.”

She faces me again. “So, I’ll be ready to start in on your music tomorrow. It takes me about a month to do the graphics per artist, and as the final deadline is year-end, I don’t have any time to waste. And, not that I want to feed your already galactic ego, but your new songs will be the highlight of my submission. If I win, it could make a real difference in the lives of people who depend on the proceeds from this event—disadvantaged youth who need a creative outlet.” She plucks at her top. “It could make a real difference in my life too, Ozzy.”

Yeah, like I need this kind of added pressure. Instead of continuing the conversation, I stand up and head over to the bar area. Opening the rum, I hold it up to her with a can of Coke. “Want some?”

“I’ll take the Coke, straight.”

“Ah, c’mon. If you won’t let me have my wicked way with you, at least let me make you a real drink. You’ve got to tolerate me somehow for the next five hours.”

She tilts her head. Something passes across her eyes and she says, “Well, alright. Just one.”

“There’s my girl.” I busy myself making our drinks. Walking over to where she’s sitting, I hand her the glass and clink mine to hers.

“Thanks.” She takes a small sip and puts the glass down into the cupholder. “So, really, I can’t wait to hear your new stuff. Want to give me a preview?”

Her latte-colored eyes bore into mine. How long can I keep the truth from her? I swallow the last of my drink and deposit the empty into the cupholder at my seat. “Yeah, well.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

Shit. She’s so fucking cute. And she’s going to find out that I’m empty as an old guitar case soon enough. I inhale the recycled air and force myself to expel all of it. Here goes nothing. “You see, McKenna… I’ve been having a bit of a dry spell.”

Her eyes slant. “And by dry spell, you mean—”

Her sentence hangs there. I clear my throat. “I mean that I haven’t been able to write any new songs.”

Silence.

“Any?”

I shake my head.

Her voice takes on a hard edge. “At all?”

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