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“Poke the bear until he either bites or gives in. Bold tactic, Jameson. I’m impressed.”
Chapter Seven
KILLIAN
“So, where do you want to start?”
I sat across from him in the living room. My palms were sweaty as I held my guitar for the first time in far too long.
He smirked, the handsome bastard. “Well, I like to start with a couple chords, you know, test it out, get things going.”
Of course, I knew what he meant. He wanted to ease into it and warm up, which made perfect sense. That was how I did things too, but a big part of me didn’t think I was capable of any of that anymore.
“All right. Go ahead.”
A slight frown turned down his lips. “You don’t have anything to add? No opinions on what key you want to start in or whether you want to go angsty or sexy? Nothing?”
“Nope. Take it away, rock star.”
“All right. I really thought you’d have more of an opinion on this.”
“Well, I don’t. You want to just call it? We can do that.”
“No, we can’t. We are meant to turn in something to our label next week, so no.”
My chest went tight as anxiety careened through me. We did have to turn stuff in and get approval. We had to keep our contracts, and the only way we were going to do that was if we wrote this damn song.
“Like I said, take it away.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I don’t understand you.”
“What’s there to understand?”
“You’re just letting your whole career go up in flames.”
“No, I’m not. I’m here working with you, aren’t I? I just don’t get why you’re trusting me. I sure don’t have any Grammys to show for my career.”
“Fine, but I don’t have a single number one hit to show for the last five years, either. Seems like you’re putting a lot of stock into my history and not what I can produce now.”
“Isn’t that why she put us together?”
His unaffected shrug was kinda infuriating, especially when he said, “Suit yourself.”
But then he began slowly strumming a soft chord progression, one I recognized far too easily. I cocked my head.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m warming up.”
“With one of my songs?”
“Yeah, with one of your songs. You bothered, cowboy?”
“Why aren’t you using one of yours?”
“Because mine are old and tired. But yours, they have something special.”
“No, they don’t.”
