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“Safe, sure, that’s what we’ll call it. It won’t happen again. I promise I won’t make that mistake with you.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“No, that’s okay. Don’t try to make me feel better. I’ll see you in the morning. Night.”
He gave me a curt nod. “Good night, Killian.”
And then I went upstairs to lick my wounds and remind myself exactly why it was best if I were single.
Chapter Eight
JAMESON
I couldn’t get that kiss out of my mind. His lips had been full and warm, soft but firm all at the same time. He’d caught me off guard, but I didn’t know why. We’d been dancing around our attraction since the moment I arrived, and I’d really fucked up by pushing him away. But the guy had just told me exactly what led to the end of his band. I wasn’t going to be the reason he repeated a mistake.
And then there were my own experiences with mixing music and romance. Neither one of us was ready for this; that much was clear. Better to put on the brakes now and keep the air clear between us than to muddy the waters and get sex involved.
Or love, a little voice in my mind said.
I shook my head. Love that wasn’t in the cards for me.
So, I sat there on the couch, quietly strumming the chord progression we’d worked on. Writing it down along with the framework of lyrics that had been spinning in my mind.
Part of me hoped Killian would come back downstairs, swallow his pride, and help me. We’d been on the verge of finding something special. I could feel it. It was that moment, right before the sky opened up and a torrent of rain escaped. Absolute magic. I was really good at finding it but terrible at keeping it. This was like a live wire bouncing around on the ground or a snake coiled and ready to strike, dangerous but fucking exhilarating all at the same time.
My phone danced on top of the coffee table, the name Aiden flashing on the screen. What the fuck did Aiden Boyd want now? I sighed and rolled my shoulders as I reached down and answered the call.
“Hey, Aiden. What’s going on?”
“What’s this I hear about you shacking up with Killian Wilde?”
My stomach twisted, a pit opening up. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s all over the rags. You and Killian living together. Are you two an item?”
“No.”
“Then why are you pictured shirtless at his ranch?”
“What?”
“Hang on. I’ll send it to you.”
My phone buzzed, and I put him on speaker as I stared down at the photo he sent me. Sure enough, there I was, dirty, sweaty, shirtless, and staring straight at Killian’s perfect fucking arse as he took the saddle off his horse. Oh, God.
“So, you two aren’t a thing? Not that I’d have any issue with you being with a guy. Just to make sure we’re clear on that.”
“No, we’re not a thing.”
“Then why the hell are you in bumfuck nowhere, Montana?”
“We’re co-writing, all right?”
“Co-writing? No way. You’re a solo act. You’ve always been a solo act.”
“Yeah, well, I’m a solo act whose career is stagnant. Jackie put us together writing. It’s that or get dropped.”
“Shit. Really?”
