Page 128 of Composed
Not even sure she's even breathing as my words linger heavy between us.
I stroke upwards and her skin pebbles.
“I started a song today,” I tell her, brushing the music notes tattooed above her waistband.
“You did?” Her back flutters as she draws in a breath. “That’s really good.”
“Isn’t it?” I hum, leaning closer. “Are you gonna play me your song now?”
“I would, but that means I'd have to move and I’m not really sure I want to do that.”
Her top lifts as I push my fingers up her back. “Lazy.”
“I’ll play it for you later.” She rolls her neck, humming when I roll my circle my thumb over the wing framing her shoulder blade. “We shouldprobably talk about the album, though. We haven’t really nailed down super specifics.”
“Like?”
“How many songs?”
“Hmm, fifteen?”
“That could work,” she says. “Shouldn’t take too long either now we’re getting the flow. I’d say we’ve got a solid base for at least eight now. And if you’re speeding along with the lyrics, we’ll be done in no time.”
My throat tightens. “Sounds good.”
“Rein in all that excitement, dude,” she teases.
“I am excited.” I exhale a slow breath and trail my fingers back down. “I’m just enjoying the freedom.”
She peers over her shoulder at me. “But isn’t that the fun in going indie? You have all the freedom you want. The future is yours, Rock Star.”
I divert my train of thought as it drifts to what a future could look like if she sticks around a while. I force a smirk on my lips. “You know, if we were in a musical, this is where you’d start singing.”
“Singing was never my forte.”
I chuckle. “I still don’t understand how the most insanely talented human I’ve ever known sounds like a cat being strangled when you open your mouth.”
“Ha. Aren’t you a funny one?”
“I try.” I squeeze her hip. “Now, we should probably go do some work before one of the guys barrels in and demands an update.”
Chapter forty-one
Cole • Then
Reckless Abandon – Blink-182
Twenty Years Old
Wefuckingdidit.
A real-deal, ink-still-wet, recording contract sitting right here in my hands.
I turn to face Hendrix.
Sunlight glints through the open blinds, casting a golden glow around her as she sits cross-legged in the centre of my bed. She twists her fingers in the hem of my t-shirt as she watches me, her eyes dancing over every inch of me, awe-filled and bright, as if she’s seeing me for the first time all over again.
My chest tugs.
