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She let the last note resonate until we both faded to nothing. I set down my guitar and got to my feet. I moved past her into the kitchen. Went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. I tossed her a bottle, took a good long gulp of the one in my hand, and leaned against the counter. I stared at her as the minutes ticked by, long enough to finish half my beer. Long enough to really look at her.
Echo was dummied down. She wore no makeup, and her skin glowed. Her full mouth was red, her cheeks heated. Her hair fell in a long tangle of waves nearly to her waist. And damn but my clothes were a good look on her. She’d surprised the hell out of me, and it had been years since anyone had managed that.
I studied her for a few more moments, until the silence became a heavy thing. “When do you have the time?” I asked finally, draining my beer and setting the empty bottle on the counter.
“Time for what?” She spoke so low, I barely heard her.
“To learn. To grow. To do what you just did. To do something real. Something that makes a difference.”
I took a step forward, but then thought better of it and shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “I mean, between all the selfies and Instagram and Twitter and vacations and parties, I don’t how you find the time for anything that isn’t plastic.”
“Who are you to judge me?”
“I’m not judging.” And I wasn’t. I was curious.
Her eyes narrowed. “You think I’m shallow.”
“Yeah. I do.” From what I knew about her, she lived for social media and nothing else. A week ago? I wouldn’t have given a damn. But something had just changed. And her lack of desire to do anything with her life pissed me off. Maybe I should have taken a closer look at that—my reaction. Maybe I should have wondered why I cared. But right now, in this moment, I was real curious to hear her answer.
She got to her feet, and I saw her anger. “You don’t know me at all.”
“Fill me in.” I took another step forward, a new, raw energy sliding over my body and fueling a recklessness that usually got me into trouble. “Tell me what it is you do with all your time. Lyric is at Berklee, and Harmony—”
“We’re not doing this, Boyd.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to. Because my family isn’t something I’m going to discuss with you. Because I don’t like you. Because it’s none of your business.”
“You’re in my space now, so it kinda is.” She was pissed, and the air practically crackled with whatever the hell it was going on between us.
She moved closer, close enough to thump me in the chest.
“This isn’t your space.”
“We could argue that all night and never agree. So let’s skip that shit, shall we?” I leaned forward. “Who else knows you can sing like that? And play guitar?”
She blinked and would have moved away, but I grabbed her arm and held her close. She was breathing fast and hard, and when she licked those damn lips of hers, my focus shifted. Suddenly, I didn’t give a flying fuck about her answer. Suddenly, I wanted to scoop her up and put my hands and mouth on her. I wanted to taste her secret places, the ones that existed in my memory.
Shit. Fuck. Damn. This wasn’t good.
“Why do you care?” she rasped.
Taking a deep breath, I let her go and ran my hands through my hair. I was losing it and needed to regroup.
“You’re sitting on the kind of talent that most entertainers would sell their soul to the devil for. And no one knows about it. Your father is Axel Mansfield, and he sure as shit should know.”
“We are not bringing my father into this.” Her voice was ragged, and her anger intensified. I knew I needed to back off that one.
“Okay, let’s take Axel out of the equation.” I shook my head because I was stumped. “Why doesn’t anyone know?”
“I don’t—” She backed away. “Lyric is the one pursuing music. She’s got the chops. I just… I’m not…” She stammered a bit and then was silent.
It was then I realized she had no clue that she was so damn good. She doesn’t know. And that blew my mind. I found myself thinking things I probably shouldn’t, but then part of me was like, why the hell not?
“Let’s write some songs together,” I said in a rush, watching her closely.
Her head shot up. “What?” She made a weird sound and took another step back. “What are you saying?”
