Page 38 of Centre Stage

Chapter Twenty-Two

Andrea

The proposaland the race after had been thrilling and perfect, and Andrea was deliriously happy for her best friend. It had been a blissful few days away from Ireland and she and Declan had even managed to stay civil to one another...in fact, Declan had been acting the perfect gentleman, making sure she had eaten, rested, and even shrugged off his hoody and given it to her when she was cold one evening.

Andrea had been reluctant to take it, to be drowned in the scent of him, and even now, days after, when she closed her eyes, she could still smell him, and the lingering scent of his Boss aftershave. She knew that she would never not get a whiff of the eau de parfum and not think of Declan.

The band was due to have a recording session in the studio so they could send the executives at Emerald Records evidence that they were in fact working toward a release. Declan had tried to persuade Luna to stay with Luke but she had been adamant about coming back after hearing that there was no set timeline for when Luke might wake up and that for now he couldn’t be moved.

The flight home had passed in a blur, with tiredness drowning them all and even Declan had fallen asleep, his head lolling to the side with his arms folded across his chest. Andrea had sat across the way, only getting up to drape a blanket over him when he shivered

Luna, who had been watching the interaction, flashed Andrea a small smile even as Andrea’s face had heated in embarrassment. Luna beckoned her over and she went because the girl had been through an ordeal and Andrea couldn’t in that moment figure out a way to avoid her.

The moment Andrea took a seat opposite Luna, the girl leaned on her fist and sighed. “You know he’s in love with you, right? Has been since before I knew him.”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Luna.”

Luna laughed, rolling her eyes. “Ya, I know. But still. He is a handsome bastard when he’s not scowling and broody, and he doesn’t date. He is married to his music because the girl he loves won’t give him the time of day and he thinks he doesn’t deserve to be happy.”

Andrea hadn’t responded to Luna’s words, but her heart started to race at the thought that Declan wasn’t dating. It was hard to believe that someone who looked like him, who sang like him, who was the subject of lots of admiration, hadn’t acted on it. Andi knew he was as Luna put it, married to his music, but she never expected him to be a monk.

“He looks after us all and we want him to be happy. I want all my brothers, blood and not, to be happy. If the last few days have taught me anything, it’s that life is too damn short to not do, or be with who makes you happy. Luke has hidden a part of himself from the entire world and now..... well now he might never get the chance to find that person who loves him unconditionally.”

Andrea had spent a lot of time thinking about what Luna had said and it had kept her awake at night. How could she trust that if she let herself try with Declan that he wouldn’t rip her heart out and stomp on it all over again She had turned into a hot mess after the events of the gala, and if she allowed herself to be with Declan, and it all fell apart, knowing what it was like to be loved by Declan, only to lose him all over again might just destroy her.

Pushing that train of thought firmly out of her mind, Andrea got out of her car and strode toward Declan’s home and studio. He had sent her the code to the door yesterday so she keyed it in and stepped inside. Glancing up the stairs, she was tempted to go up and see exactly how Declan was living.

Instead, she opted for the professional approach walking toward the studio and opening the glass door, letting herself in, marveling at the space Declan had created. The area she stood in had two couches facing one another, a low table in between that had scattered music sheets all over it. A beautiful array of guitars were displayed along the wall and someone had painted the walls a dark grey, a smattering of musical quotes decorating them.

There was a kitchenette area also, and there was a collage of pictures of the band. Andrea smiled looking at pictures of Luna and Jameson as youngsters and her smile dropped when she brushed her fingers over a picture of her and Declan, taken maybe about six months before things had gone to shit.

She herself was looking at whoever was taking the picture, maybe Rhys, a pencil tucked behind her ear, laughter in her eyes, and a bright smile curving her lips. But Declan wasn’t looking at the camera; he was looking at her with an expression Andrea had never seen before and it made her heart ache.

Turning away from the reminders of the past, Andrea’s eyes scanned the room, wondering why no one else was here. The band had been told to be at the studio by ten so they could talk some before getting down to some recording. She had waited until nearly ten to arrive to avoid being alone with Declan but now she realized she was the first one to arrive. Or so she thought.

Something made her walk toward the door that led to the recording booth and Andrea quietly opened the door and went inside. Booth was an understatement. This was a full-out studio set up complete with a separate booth for laying down vocals, and a larger one for band performances. Declan was standing with his back to her, dressed in shorts and a tee, as she listened to the sound of Oliver Scott’s patented screaming on a song that was heavy and Andrea instantly loved the beat.

Ducking out of view as Declan moved to lean against a wall and scribbled lyrics hastily before turning to them out, her eyes were drawn to the stunner in the other booth and she just had to go and run her fingers along the beauty.

A baby grand lingered lonely in the rehearsal space, a stark black against the ivory keys, and Andrea slipped into the booth and traced her fingers along the top of the sleek piano. She knew she shouldn’t be in the studio, shouldn’t be sitting down in front of the keys, but it was like being pulled like a magnet, and Andrea couldn’t help herself.

Her fingers pressed down on the keys before she could stop herself and Andrea closed her eyes and let the music warm her soul. She had felt impossibly cold for weeks now and couldn’t bring herself to even dream of touching an instrument because it stirred up things she didn’t want to think about. She was secure in the knowledge that Declan wouldn’t hear her unless he came out of his booth.

Andrea started off by playing a little bit of Clair de lune by Debussy and then shifting into Ed Sheeran’s bloodstream. She had heard the mix by a very talented artist called Tokio Myers and loved it, but didn’t have all the tools here to do his version justice so she just played the piano and let her fingers soothe her troubled soul.

She didn’t realize she had started singing, until she heard her voice in the acoustic of the room, tried to keep her tone low to keep anyone from hearing her because unlike the booth, this space wasn’t soundproof, but Rhys had once said that her voice was something that could not be contained, was not subtle and it matched her personality.

Letting the melody and the song wash over her, Andrea kept her eyes clamped shut, her fingers relying on nothing but memory to hit the right notes, and once the Ed Sheeran version had reached its climax, she switched back to Clair de lune, not wanting to finish the song but knowing that soon, she’d have an audience that she didn’t want to explain herself to.

Andrea finished her tinkering with the keys and exhaled, resting her hands on the lid as she opened her eyes and the air was sucked from her lungs.

Declan stood by the door of the studio, his lips slightly parted, his blue eyes focused on her with an expression on his face that Andrea could only describe as hunger. He licked his lips and took a step toward her, his intentions clear in his eyes even as she stood up, ready to get out of the studio as fast as she could.

But to make a hasty retreat she would have to get passed Declan and her legs, and Christ, her body, didn’t want her to go. Her core clenched at the savage intensity in Declan’s eyes and she shivered, her brain telling her to get the hell out of dodge but her stupid heart telling her that she had to know what it felt like...even if it was just this once.

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