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She took a breath and he thought she was going to say more, but she didn’t. So he just nodded and tried to ignore the fact that he had a sudden urge to find Joey Nelson and punch him in the face. It didn’t mean anything. He’d do the same if someone screwed over Faith or Mina, though it looked like he wouldn’t have to do that any time soon. Will and Caleb were good guys. So his desire to squash Joey like a bug was purely because he’d grown up with Leah. One hundred percent.
Nothing to do with Leah’s fierce eyes or the way her body curved or the way his memories of the night they’d spent together had been popping into his head at all the wrong moments since she’d showed up on his doorstep and asked him for a job. Letting it have anything to do with any of that could only be insanity. And a whole lot of trouble he didn’t want.
“No messing, I swear,” he said.
“Good. And don’t screw with her about this producing thing. If you ask her, you need to give her a decent shot. Take her seriously.”
“I always take music seriously.”
“Yeah but sometimes you’re not so good at remembering that the people involved have feelings too, Zach.”
She said it gently but it still felt like a slap. A slap he deserved. “I know,” he said. “I was an ass last year. I’m sorry. I know I need to make it up to you. I want to.”
“Well, start by being more careful with my best friend,” Faith said, leaning over to shoulder-bump him. He caught her as she made contact, curled his arm around her shoulders to pull her into a half hug, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Damn. He’d forgotten how much he liked being with his sisters. Between Grey’s erratic parenting style and his and Mina’s moms bailing, the three of them had been the three musketeers. Their own little tight unit. Always there for one another. Until, of course, he’d left. Then proceeded to do his best to screw up the relationship he had with Faith completely.
He nodded. “I can do that.” He let Faith go, but she stayed where she was, leaning against him. He angled his head so he could see her better. “So if you had to grovel to Leah, how would you start?”
“Probably with the biggest box of doughnuts Stella will sell you. Leah likes the custard ones.” Faith peered up at him. “Stella doesn’t deliver though. You’ll have to go into town.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a good grovel if I didn’t have to run the paparazzi gauntlet, would it?”
Leah hesitated outside the screen door to Grey’s studio, wondering what exactly she was doing here. Zach had called her just after five and asked her to come over.
Why, she had no idea. A wiser woman would have asked but the sound of his voice on the other end of the line had been so unexpected that she’d gone blank. She’d already been wrapping things up in the studio when he’d called but she’d messed around longer than she needed to, trying to psych herself up to seeing him again. After last night’s awkward moments before dinner, her hormones needed a bit of a lecture about what constituted acceptable behavior around Zach before she saw him again.
But eventually she couldn’t stretch things out any longer. She didn’t even have the excuse of needing to keep working. Faith had managed to book Nessa a gig for a few nights in L.A., so she and her band had packed up and left after lunch. The studio’s other clients had left two days ago.
All she needed to do now was lift her hand and knock. She wiped her palms against her jeans, feeling nervous and sweaty, but couldn’t actually make herself do it. Maybe she should just go.
Before she could make herself leave, the inner door swung open, and Zach was staring at her through the screen.
There was an awkward moment of silence before he reached for the screen door. “Leah, hi.”
She stepped back so he could open the door, distracted by the sudden heavy thump of her pulse in her ears. Dammit. Why did he do this to her?
He was Zach. Just Zach. The guy she’d known her entire life. She’d seen him gangly and awkward as a teenager, heard him tell a thousand terrible jokes, and watched him play baseball really badly. He should have no effect on her whatsoever. Yet there he was, hotter than the sun, making her forget how to talk again.
“I didn’t hear you,” he continued, as though he hadn’t noticed that she hadn’t replied to his greeting. “Did you knock?”
“I just got here,” she said. “Just this second,” she added. No way did she want Zach knowing that she’d been standing outside the door, hesitating like a weirdo.
“Good.” He held the door open with one arm, angling himself sideways so there was room for her to squeeze past. “Come in.
She managed to pass him without actually touching him by practically sliding her butt against the doorframe. She held her breath as she did so, not wanting to get a noseful of that familiar delicious Zach smell and lose her cool.
Once inside, she kept moving, heading into the rehearsal room without waiting for him. It was messier than the day she’d asked Zach to hire her. There were three guitar cases propped against the wall, not just one, though it was still Grey’s old Martin cradled carefully in the stand nearest the mic and stool set up in the middle of the room. A pair of high-tech sneakers and a backpack lay on the floor behind the stool, and a tangle of cables and pedals curled around them. A laptop, a water bottle, and a yellow legal pad covered in Zach’s familiar black scrawl sat on the small table along with packets of M&M’s and pretzels. Classic Zach supplies.
He’d always loved M&M’s, though he insisted that the green ones tasted weird.
Just Zach, she reminded herself again. The boy whose taste in M&M’s she knew. The boy who never liked wearing shoes inside unless it was officially freezing. The boy who’d been mad for guitars as long as she’d known him.
The man who’d given her one of the best nights of her life and then left her behind.
No.
Not going to think about that.
Behind her came the sound of the screen door creaking shut, and then footsteps across the floorboards.
