Page 51 of Wylder and the Secret Rockstar
Wylder turned, walking backwards. “You let me worry about that.”
* * *
Devyn was busy with her equestrian frenemies tonight so when Wylder returned, Logan was sitting on the couch in their tiny sitting room.
“What, did you bring the whole kitchen with you?” He jumped up to help her with a giant bag of tortilla chips and all the makings for nachos.
“I’ve got cheese, beans, jalapeños, chipotles, salsa, sour cream, and guacamole.”
“You really wanted nachos.” Logan helped her spread her contraband out on the small kitchen counter.
“Grab us some drinks from the fridge, and I’ll make us a plate.”
Logan helped himself to a couple of energy drinks and moved to sit on the couch.
“You want jalapeños and chipotles on your side or just jalapeños?”
“Is neither an option?”
“Wuss.” She sprinkled a liberal amount of peppers on her side of the platter and poured bubbling hot nacho cheese over the whole thing.
“Mind if I run through what we have?” Logan asked over his shoulder.
“Go for it.” Wylder sprinkled real cheese over the hot fake cheese and loaded up the platter with refried beans, guac, and sour cream.
Logan tapped out a beat on the coffee table and started to sing softly. He had a good voice. Probably a great voice if he really went for it. Maybe she could push it out of him for their performance.
His voice rose with the melody they’d been working on. He had great pitch, like a natural singer. She didn’t know why this surprised her. He’d been so adamant he didn’t sing or play instruments, but then again, so had she.
“What if we did a staccato beat right here at the start of the chorus?” Logan paused his singing, but he kept up the tapping beat on the coffee table. “Something like ‘And, I-I-I’m telling you this…’” his voice rose as he found a new rhythm.
“Oh, I like that. Try throwing one more I in there.” Wylder stood back, listening as he ran through the chorus, his back turned to her.
Logan sang right through the chorus and into the verse they still weren’t happy with. Frowning, she reached for the nacho platter just as Logan went for a high note.
The platter crashed back against the counter, and he turned at her yelp.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She flushed. “The plate was hotter than I thought.” She reached for a pile of napkins and got a better grip on the platter.
“You make enough for the whole building?” He scooted over as she came to sit with him.
“If you’re nice to me, I might share.” She reached for a chip liberally coated with cheese.
“You have an impressive appetite.” Logan helped himself, hunting through the toppings for errant peppers.
“Don’t worry, that side’s perfectly wimpy.”
“Forgive me if I don’t trust you. I’ve been warned of your pranks.” He shoved a chip in his mouth, chewed, and promptly choked.
His face turned eighteen shades of red as he reached for his drink.
“You okay?” She patted his back. “Did it go down wrong or something?”
“Hot.” He gulped his drink. “Too hot.”
“Hot?” She frowned.
