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“What happened after he passed away?” he asked gently, coming to her side.
“Your music got me through that time. It reminded me of how much I loved my grandfather. That’s the power of your music. You can’t give up, Landon. You can’t throw it away.”
He took off his cap, set it on the table, and ran his hands through his hair. “But I also can’t let the world know I have a problem.”
She retrieved another bonbon and chucked it at him. “What the hell?” he bit out, snapping the chocolate out of the air before it whacked him in the nose. “What is it with you and your friends throwing random objects at us?”
She huffed an incensed puff of sound. “It’s because you and your nanny match-buddies are infuriating. You don’t have a problem, Landon. Your mind works differently. That’s all.”
She didn’t understand the level of scrutiny he lived with.
“Do you know how the press will spin it? They’ll call me damaged. They’ll speculate that I didn’t write any of the old songs. People will never look at me the same.”
“Do you believe you’re damaged?” she pressed.
He flicked his gaze to the floor.
“Do you think Aria and I are damaged?” she continued.
He had to make her understand. “People will talk, Harper. I’m a celebrity. The press and the assholes online would love to get ahold of this and blast it on every celebrity site on the internet.”
“Why do you care about those people? Forget them.”
“I can’t forget them,” he hissed. “My label could drop me. My career could come crashing down. I need to save Heartthrob Warfare’s legacy, not burn it to the ground.”
“I can help you. We’ll figure out a way. We’ll make our own path. I can even show you strategies to get past what’s blocking your ability to put what’s in your head on paper.”
He held up the chocolate. “I’m not one of your Bonbon Barbie students.”
She reared back. “Maybe you should be. You might learn something. You can be a real spoiled celebrity when you want to.”
“What does that mean?” he quipped, then jammed the chocolate into his mouth and scarfed it down like a rabid dog.
There really was something satisfying about rage eating decadent chocolate.
“First,” Harper said, gearing up, “you say you’ll do anything to start making music again, but when I offer possible solutions, you shoot them down.”
He threw up his hands. “What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?”
“Be honest with me. What’s going on in your head? That night in Vegas, you said what you want and what you can have are two different things. What does that even mean?”
He paced like a caged animal. “You want to know what’s going on inside my jacked-up mind? I’m terrified I’ll screw up Aria. I’m heartsick because there’s a chance I’ll never make the kind of music Trey, Leighton, and I dreamed of writing. And then there’s you.”
Christ, he’d said it.
“Me?” she blasted.
He couldn’t hold back, not with those hazel eyes challenging him. He caught the glint of her wedding ring, then held her fiery gaze. “Yeah, you,bonbon. From the moment I first saw you that night when Rowen decided to show up at that bar to freak the shit out of Penny, I couldn’t get you out of my head. You sang that little song about Penny and the weirdos, and it was like time stopped.”
“You heard that?”
“Yeah, you’ve got the voice of an angel. Packed stadiums teeming with fans would fall to their knees to hear you sing. And then there are your eyes.”
“My eyes?”
“Damn right, your eyes,” he rasped. “It’s like you can see through me with those chameleon eyes.”
“What the hell are chameleon eyes, heartthrob? Are you calling me a reptile?” she barked.
