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He visibly loosened up. “I know.”
But really, if they were going to work together, she might as well get it all out in the open. It would be much worse if he found out later. “That’s not to say I wasn’t stalking you before I got the job.”
His eyebrows hitched up into his hairline.
“Like every fan ever, I thought your music was brilliant. It spoke to me. I used to think…” Don’t say it, or he’ll really think you’re nuts.
“You used to think what?”
“That your ‘lyrics were cribbed from my soul.’” Her neck went hot. “Yes, I actually wrote those words in my journal. I know, I know. You probably hear stuff like that every day, but it’s real for me. You know your line, Darkness invades, an army of fear, and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t do this?”
He nodded warily.
Like he was waiting for her to smear on the clown make-up.
“That song came out on the first anniversary of my mom’s death. Literally, it dropped the same day. I was getting ready for school, and I didn’t think I could do it. You know, pretend to be okay, get dressed, and straighten my hair like I was normal, just like everyone else at school.”
He set his big, warm hand on top of hers and squeezed. “I’m sorry you lost your mom.”
She’d already told him about it, but he treated the news with the same respect as the first time. And really, she’d have been fine if he hadn’t been so damn sweet about it. But because he had, she blinked back the sting of tears. “Thanks. Anyhow, I had the radio on, and the DJ said he had a surprise, a single from Van Claybourne’s debut album. I had no idea who you were, but I was putting on makeup, forcing myself to go through the motions, when I heard the lyrics and just started crying. Literally, mascara streaking down my face. I sat on the floor, and your song wrapped around me like my mom’s arms. And I cried so hard I could hardly breathe.”
“I hope someone was there for you.”
He hoped someone…what? That’s his response? “What an incredibly sweet thing to say. And, man, did you ever nail it. Because a loss like that is so personal, so shattering, you feel completely isolated in it. Unless you’ve lost a parent, you can’t get it.”
“What about your dad? How did he handle her loss?”
She was starting to suspect he’d lost someone important, too, because he was really nailing the questions. “My dad’s the best, but he adored my mom, and I just don’t think he’s caught his groove since she died. He threw himself into work and taking care of me, the house, the car…he just hasn’t stopped doing stuff. So, yeah, I was alone in my grief. But I was okay because your lyrics gave me exactly what I needed. It helped just knowing someone else felt the same way. And the thing is, your songs always end in happiness. That’s what I can count on with Van Claybourne. You go deep, you get very real, but your characters always find a way to triumph, and people need that. I needed that.”
“Did you go to school that day?”
“Hell, no. I spent the day listening to music, singing at the top of my lungs, eating junk food, watching TV, and doing my nails.”
He grinned. “My mom used to call those mental health days. She gave us one every school year.”
“That’s really nice. I like that. What did you do on your mental health days?”
There it was again, that shuttering. He looked back at his phone, but she could tell he wasn’t reading the screen. And then he seemed to make a decision because his gaze swung back to her. “We only had two of them before the band got some traction, and then mental health days were forgotten.”
“Why do I think you understand what it’s like to lose someone important?”
He sighed, looking tired all of a sudden. “I’m going to remind you about that NDA.”
“I know I seem like a big mouth, but I’m a vault when you need me to be. And yes, I remember the super scary contract I signed.”
He watched her for a moment, a parade of emotions crossing his features. His soulful amber eyes seemed to take her measure, and this crazy energy went zinging between them.
The good kind.
The sexy kind.
It was potent, and she marveled at how quickly things had changed from having zero attraction to him on the bus to this moment when desire flared to life.
And just like that, the rock star she’d fantasized about drifted away in a puff of smoke. Because sitting here beside this man, he’d become a real flesh and bones person. A complicated man with a real past.
A man she very much wanted to get closer to. She wanted to hold his hand, caress his thigh, and feel his strength and heat.
He nodded, as though concluding he could trust her. “My dad died when I was nine.”
