Page 83 of Composed
“You’re here early.”
She jumps at my voice, a hand slapping against her chest as liquid spurts from her mouth.
“Fucking hell, dude.” She shakes her head and places the thermos down. “Why are you sitting around like a creeper?”
I arch a brow, laughter bubbling up my throat.
I remember thinking the first day we met how I didn’t want to look like a creeper in front of her. And here we are. Full circle moment, I guess. “I live here.”
“You live right here, in the lounge of your studio, do you?” she deadpans.
I hide my grin behind my hand. “I forgot how feisty you are when you’re embarrassed.”
“I’m not embarrassed.” She rolls her eyes. “You just scared the shit out of me, is all. I didn’t expect anyone to be here. Figured I’d get some time in before Ax or Saint decide to show their faces asking for updates. What’s your excuse for being down here at the arse crack of dawn?”
I don’t miss the way she bypasses Carter’s name. Seems he really drove the point home with their one interaction on Friday. “I couldn’t sleep.”
She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth and nods.
I watch her from the corner of my eye as she kicks off thick soled chequered vans, before snatching up the sheet music I've been working on and settling into the oversized armchair.
She hugs her knees to her chest, resting her head on them as she scans the pages.
My stomach twists at how quickly she’s made herself at home in our studio.
Pretty sure I’m not supposed to love it so damn much.
“I was thinking we should probably try some lyrics today.” She places the sheet music on the arm of the chair before pulling her hair into a sleek ponytail. “I’ve gotta head home tonight, so I want to see if we can get at least one song fully drafted before I leave.”
My pulse jumps. “You’re going home?”
“Yeah.” She turns to me with a soft smile. “Riles needs to get back for some work stuff, and I’ve got a client in the studio tomorrow.”
I swipe my pick down the strings. “Makes sense. Can’t stay in London forever, huh? So we’ll just do this through texts and emails like we originally planned?”
Her brows furrow, a line creasing the corner of her mouth. “It’s just that I promised Talia’s brother, Marcus, that I’d mix an album for him. So I have to go meet with him.”
“Talia’s brother?” I frown. “The guy you were on the phone to the other day is Talia’s brother?”
Her eyes crease. “Yeah. He’s an aspiring hip hop artist. Talia asked me as a favour.”
“Her brother?”
“Are you just gonna keep repeating that?” she asks slowly.
“No, sorry.” I force a laugh.
Confusion lines her face.
I look away, pushing the lingering question of her relationship status from my mind. It doesn’t change anything. She’s still leaving. I'll still be here. And there’s still ten years of distance between us.
“So, lyrics, then?” I ask.
“Yes.” She coughs and pulls her phone from her pocket. “I was thinking with the ghost theme and the piano incorporation, we could start here.” She tosses the device into my lap, her notes open.
I stare down at the two lines.
Haunting the halls where we used to dream,
