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She was about to ask if he’d gotten into Tanner’s lollipops when the rhythmic strum of a guitar resonated through the snug space. She lowered the phone. Awestruck, she observed as Landon sat on the edge of the bed and played a melody they’d been toying with for the Bonbon Kiss song.
But he wasn’t messing around anymore.
He’d shifted the key and slowed the tempo, allowing the music to unfold like a story, note by note. He’d also borrowed an intro she’d come up with on the piano a few days ago. She hadn’t thought it would work with “Bonbon Kiss,” but it fit beautifully. Like a musical chemist, he’d taken snippets of sounds and portions of lyrics and entwined them to create something new. This heartfelt ballad stripped away the layers of the mega pop star and uncovered the artist—the rock star.
He played the intro, held her gaze, then parted his lips.
My bonbon baby, she makes me go crazy.
Taste your chocolate kisses, breathe your sweet promises.
Losing my mind, bonbon baby, say you’ll be mine.
If she were a cartoon character, her eyes would have transformed into hearts.
This wasn’t the first time she’d heard him sing. They’d been working on music, riffing, and experimenting with lyrics and melodies. But that wasn’t what was happening now.
In this cozy room, tucked in the corner of the basement, he serenaded her.
Her first impulse was to say something snarky to get him to stop—not because she didn’t like it, but because she wasn’t sure if her heart could take it. The intensity of his gaze left her speechless.
His voice, that velvet voice that rasped in all the right places, sparked a deep, visceral longing. Elegant in its simplicity, anyone who heard this song would believe without a doubt that they were Landon Paige’s bonbon baby. He’d connected with fans as the lead singer of Heartthrob Warfare. Now, he was about to bare his soul. Acoustic, raw, and unfiltered, the world was about to fall even harder for this heartthrob.
He played the final chord. It hung in the air like fireflies hovering in the summer sky. She closed her eyes, locking in the sound.
“What do you think?” he asked as he propped his guitar in the corner.
Her eyes fluttered open, but she didn’t say a word.
Who could think after being the first person on the planet to hear Landon Paige’s new sound? Not to mention, how could she string a cohesive thought together after this man had strapped on his guitar and sung his heart out for her.
“Say something,” he pressed.
Now he wanted her to speak?
There was only one language appropriate to convey her feelings.
She stood and walked in front of him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, confusion marring his expression.
She couldn’t explain it. She could only act on what he’d ignited inside her.
As if she were caught in a dream, she slipped off her top and removed her bra. The chilly basement air hit her skin, but it couldn’t cool her desire. She skimmed her skirt down her thighs, allowing it to pool at her ankles, and stood before the man, naked and exposed.
“Harper,” he breathed, but she pressed her fingertips to his lips.
“This is what the song did to me. It stripped me of all pretenses. I watched you take off your mask and lay your heart on the line. I saw every part of you. My heart beat with the strum of your guitar. Your voice swelled through my body, touching every part. It amplified my senses. It made me want to…”
“To what?” he pressed.
“To believe in you.”
And there she was, taking off her mask and allowing her heart to override her head.
Yeah, her admission might sound cheesy as hell, but that’s what a powerful song could do.
And Landon Paige had nailed it.
