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“Your family’s success is important to you.” She ruffled his hair away from his forehead, smoothing his furrowed brow with the tips of her fingers. “Have they always been? Did you accept that football scholarship to Florida State to make your parents happy?”
His jaw tightened. A muscle jumped in his cheek. She pressed on, curious.
“Are you writing this album for you, or are you doing it to bolster the success of Elite Records? I imagine it’d be a lot harder to be inspired if you are only trying to help the record company. Unlike your first album that birthed ‘Lightning,’ which came straight from the heart.”
A thundercloud swept over his face. He no longer looked confused or nervous, but angry. “You in my bed gives you access to my body, not my personal life.”
She flinched, but he kept going.
“You want to interview me, Ms. Cole, make an appointment.”
“Cash—”
“Best you sleep in your own room after all.”
She watched through narrowed eyelids as the stone wall formed around him. He stared at her calmly, not taking back a single sharp word he’d said.
“Fine.” She hustled out of bed and collected her clothes and shoes. “We both got what we needed tonight anyway. We can talk more tomorrow if your schedule allows. How’s ten in the morning work for you?”
A dab of regret washed over his features. “Wait—”
“Good night.”
She wasn’t waiting for whatever explanation he was going to offer. She was irritated with herself for letting him affect her this much. She should have shrugged off his grouchiness and left with her dignity intact.
Well, screw that. She could still leave with her dignity intact.
The couture dress wadded against her chest and strappy shoes dangling from her fingertips, she marched naked down the long hallway, her hair billowing behind her. She hoped he was watching her strut away from him. She hoped he was missing her body pressed against his. She hoped he was regretting that they weren’t halfway into round two.
She shut her bedroom door, threw her clothes on the chair and climbed into the shower.
She was wrong. He hadn’t changed. He was the same guy who, given half a chance, would shut down and send her away.
And even though she knew she’d crawl back into his bed again to experience more of what she’d had tonight, she was properly armored up this time.
Hopefully her heart knew better than to allow fanciful ideas about how he’d changed to take over like weeds in a garden bed.
