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Although after that first night, she’d done her best to avoid falling asleep again. The last thing she wanted was to wake up in her bunk in the morning, knowing he’d had to carry her there. Unfortunately, it was easy to linger a little too long. Sitting out there with him was so much more pleasant than tossing and turning in her bunk, unwelcome memories crawling through her head.
Zac laid his guitar down next to him on the bench seat. “Not yet. Just taking a break.”
“How’s it all going?” she asked.
“Okay. Slower than I’d like,” he responded. “It’s harder not being in the same place. We always work better when we’re together and can pick up on each other’s energy.” He rolled his neck and rubbed at one of his shoulders.
“Why are you doing it this way, anyway? It seems like you’re pushing yourself so hard.”
“We’ve got to get the album done before we head to the UK for our European tour. We’re going to be recording at Abbey Road the week before the tour starts.”
“Really? Where the Beatles recorded?”
One side of his mouth kicked up, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yep.”
“That’s awesome. Will it be the first time you’ve been there?”
“We recorded Fractured’s fifth studio album there. But the other guys in Crossfire haven’t been, so I want to make sure they get the chance.”
She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Do you always work so hard?”
He laced his hands together behind his neck, a small smile on his face. “Not always.”
She laughed under her breath. He was definitely a man of few words when he wanted to be, and she was finding herself increasingly curious about him. In the space of a few short weeks, he’d gone from this abstract figure of a huge rock star to her boss to a man she enjoyed spending time with every evening. “So, how do you relax when you aren’t working so hard then?”
He didn’t answer straight away, the small smile growing into a grin that spread across his face.
She cocked her head. “What? Why is that funny?” Then she gasped. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid. It’s sex, isn’t it? Sex is how you relax.”
Zac threw back his head and laughed. Cassie blinked at the sight, not sure if she’d ever seen him laugh quite that unrestrainedly before.
It was nice.
She was so used to seeing him composed and in control.Focused. That was the word. Even when he played on stage, even when the fans were screaming and chanting his name, he was always so focused. On the music. On something deep inside himself. She liked seeing him this way. He was more real somehow. More approachable. Not the aloof, unobtainable rock star.
“Actually,” he said, the humor still in his voice, “I was going to say karaoke.”
She let out a surprised laugh. “Really? Karaoke? I’d love to see that.” She smiled to herself, picturing him singing an off-key rendition of “Bohemian Rhapsody” on a smoky little stage in some dingy dive bar somewhere. Not that it would be off-key. Zac had an amazing voice. But for the purposes of her mental imagery, he was definitely singing out of tune.
He watched her, an odd grin twisting his lips. “I’m sure there are some videos up on the internet somewhere.”
“And I amdefinitelygoing to look those up.”
Still smiling, Zac stood and stretched, reaching his arms over his head. Cassie’s eyes dropped to where his shirt had pulled up, revealing a strip of tanned skin and the faint line of a happy trail that dragged her gaze down to the low waistband of his jeans.
Her throat suddenly dry, Cassie looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
Zac rolled his neck again, and she heard the crack from across the living room. She put her notebook and pen down on the couch next to her and walked over to him. He watched her approach, raising his brows as she stopped in front of him.
“Sit down.” She pointed at the bench seat he’d been sitting at before. The one that had space behind it for her to stand.
He eyed her with curiosity but did as she asked. “What are you doing?”
She moved behind him. “I’m going to give you a shoulder massage. I used to do it for Bryan all the time when he was stressed.”
He twisted to face her, his brows drawn together. “You don’t need to—”
“I want to. You can consider it a thanks for helping me out.”
