I slipped one hand inside my underwear, thinking it might help take the edge off. Immediately, images of Ezra’s and Cole’s hard bodies flickered on the edges of my imagination. What would it feel like to have both of them inside of me at the same time? I groaned as my fingers sped up, despite knowing that I needed to stop. The more I indulged myself, the more I craved the real thing.
Is that all you crave?Abel’s voice rang through my head.
I know you want us there, too.That one was Silas’s.
My eyes sprung open. I jerked my hand away. How could I possibly be fantasizing about all of them? Even Abel, who was still being a complete jerk.
I stood up, more on edge than ever, and paced the length of my room. No, I had to find another way to get some peace of my mind. Suddenly, a telltale itch appeared in the tips of my fingers.
This, I could work with.
I rushed to pull on a pair of jeans, and grabbed a T-shirt off the back of my chair. My muse had decided to pay a late-night visit, and I was desperate for some company.
With my guitar in tow, I jogged to the car, sticking my keys in the ignition and cracking open my guitar case to make sure the studio keys Ezra had given me at the end of last week were still there.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at my destination. Having never opened the lock by myself before, it took me a few tries, but I managed to get in.
Light seeped through the small tinted window on the door to the control room.
I hesitated to open the door. Who could be here at this hour? What if it was an intruder trying to steal the recordings, someone who wouldn’t think twice about stabbing me to death?
While these morbid thoughts ran through my head, the handle moved, and the door swung open. I jumped back, my heart in my throat, only to see Abel standing in a loose T-shirt and wearing a befuddled expression.
“Adeline?” he asked, perturbed. “What are you doing here?”
I clutched my chest, still feeling my heart race. “Holy shit, you scared me. I wanted to write, and my sister is sleeping at home, so I thought I’d come here.”
He scanned my appearance with a tired gaze. “Looks like our muses coordinated their visits.”
I followed him into the room and took in the surroundings. A guitar rested against the leather couch in the control room. Loose, unlined pieces of paper spilled across the smooth surface, messy writing scribbled across some of the pages.
“You’re working,” I concluded. “I should leave. I don’t want to interrupt your creative process.”
He gave me a long look and shook his head. “Stay. I haven’t gotten very far.”
I shifted my weight between my feet, unsure. Was this him sticking to his new commitment of playing nice?
He waved for me to take a seat and I gave in. “Hey, I never thanked you for being so cool with Molly. It meant a lot to her.”
The couch sank under his weight, causing some of the papers to slide to the ground.
“It was nothing.”
“Not for her,” I insisted.
He dismissed me with a shrug, grabbed his guitar, and strummed a few chords. “You want to hear what I’ve got so far?”
“Absolutely.”
He picked up the papers and tamed them into a neat pile before pulling out just two sheets and placing them on the ground at his feet.
As the melody filled the air around us, I closed my eyes. The music had a dreamy feel to it, and I immediately liked it. It sounded different from the album we were recording, but there was a common essence that was hard to define. Something that fans of the band would undoubtedly recognize as part of their signature sound.
I don’t think I breathed as he played. I was too afraid to do something that would cause him to stop. The chorus ended, and the melody abruptly unraveled under his hands.
I open my eyes to see Abel furrowing his brows. “I don’t know where to go from here,” he muttered in a ragged voice.
Something scratched at the corners of my mind, and before I knew it, my guitar was splayed across my thighs. I fingered the chords until I got the right ones and began to play his song back to him.
