Page 57 of Wylder & the Rising Rockstar
The winding road led her to the north side of the lake where the faculty housing development sat among a grove of birch trees. Some of the houses were older mansions, and others were small cottages for the tenured teachers and their families. Sebastian—and now Luke—lived in a row of townhouses for the younger faculty members.
Wylder parked on the street, her old beater car looking out of place among the nicer sedans and SUVs. She’d been here several times, but she was really nervous as she walked up the stone steps to the front door.
“Give it a rest, Wylds. Nothing to be nervous about.” She gave herself a mental shake. A tacky Christmas wreath hung on the door with blinking lights and a dancing Santa wearing a cowboy hat.
“Like my wreath?” Luke flung the door open before she had a chance to ring the bell. He was wearing the world’s worst ugly Christmas sweater.
“It’s almost as stunning as your sweater.” Wylder stepped through the door. “Literally, I couldn’t move there for a minute.”
“Becks sent it to me as an early Christmas present.”
“The sweater or the wreath?”
“The wreath.”
“Of course he did.” Wylder shook her head as she shrugged out of her coat.
“I sent him a new hat. A proper one.”
“I’m sure he’ll hate it.” Wylder glanced around the living room, hanging her coat up on a peg at the front door.
“He’s not here.” Luke elbowed her.
“Who, Becks?” She frowned up at him.
“Logan.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t hide the note of relief in her voice.
“Bash sent him grocery shopping in Riverpass, so we’ve got some time before he’ll be back.”
“Hiding your big secret plan?”
“Something like that. You want some hot chocolate?” He headed toward the kitchen. “You look half frozen.”
Wylder rubbed her arms. Her heater was pretty terrible, so she froze in her car whenever she drove it in the winter.
“That depends.”
“On?” Luke leaned over the kitchen counter.
“Are we talking actual hot chocolate or something healthy masquerading as the real thing?”
“Bash won’t drink the sugar-free vegan stuff I make, so I’ve got your artificial real thing for the Keurig Becks convinced me to buy.”
“How about marshmallows?”
“Logan insists.”
“Then yes, I would love a hot chocolate. Thank you.”
“Have a seat and check this out while I make our drinks.” He scooted a notebook across the counter.
Wylder sat on the barstool and perused the lyrics she’d been working on with Logan. Luke hadn’t changed much, just made a note here and there with suggestions. But on the opposite page, he’d scribbled lines of music notes. Wylder hummed the bars to herself. The pace was faster leading up to the chorus and again before the third verse.
“Wait.” She looked up from the pages. “Is this a guitar solo?”
Luke nodded. “That’s my main contribution.”
