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He should know one thing about me by now—I never back down.
Placing my coffee down, I saunter over to him. He watches me come, parting his legs to give me room. He pats his thighs, and a pulse of desire goes through me, but I ignore it. It’s fun to mess with them.
Laying my hands on his thighs, I dig my nails in as I lean closer, almost touching my lips to his. His breathing picks up, and his eyes blow wide with lust. At the last minute, I lower my head and tug his shirt down, pressing a red-lipped kiss on his throat.
There’s a groan, and when I lean back, Astro watches me lustfully, clenching his hands, and on his throat, hidden partially by his shirt, is a bright red lipstick mark.
“Miss Harrow,” Raffiel chastises from the doorway as I move away from a dazed Astro.
“I was kissing his throat better,” I tease as I pick up my coffee.
Cillian’s hand shoots up. “Uh, I have something you can kiss better!”
* * *
We manage the drive with no incidents, although Astro looks like he’s ready to jump me so Dal sits between us, watching him carefully. I blow him kisses just to wind him up further. Once we’re at the studio, they exit first before helping me out. There are only a few cameras here today, hoping to catch someone, so I wave but walk straight to the door. The guys spread out around me to keep the paparazzi back, and when we get inside, I relax. Ignoring the looks and whispers from others, I head straight to the elevator and hit number fifteen—my lucky number. Once there, I open the huge studio we are using for the time being and kick off my shoes.
Jack is already here, playing with some background music, so I sneak up and cover his eyes. He startles and lets out a little scream before grunting. “Goddamn it, Rey,” he grumbles as I release him, and he spins toward me, grinning. “How are you always so silent? I told you that I’ll tie a bell around you.”
“Kinky.” I wink, and then I lean over and hit play. “What’s this?”
The beats play again, a mix of drums and cymbals, and I listen to them twice, nodding my head as I do and tapping out the beat. “It’s good. That would be good for the intro of track two.”
“That’s what I thought!” He perks up and spins, hitting something else, and more music plays, a softer melody. “And I thought this would work for track eight. We can add in vocals and maybe even some sirens.”
I listen to his vision and sit in the chair next to him, tapping out the beat and imagining what he’s saying. When he starts to put the track together, I murmur out some lyrics and see how they fit, then rearrange them to the beat.
Before I know it, an hour has passed and we have most of a song put together, and Jack finally comes out of his trance. He’s like me when he has music on his mind. He can’t stop until it’s done, until it’s perfect. It’s why we get along so well, not to mention he often flows with my vision and rather than just agreeing. He challenges me to be better.
“Who are the hunks?” Jack asks, looking at the guys spread around the sofas, watching as we work. I offered for them to go home, but they seemed genuinely interested in watching us in the studio. I enjoy it here. It’s the best part of creating music, but my ex or my friends would often get bored and end up leaving when they realized they couldn’t film it or join in.
“My new security team.” I nod at them. “The stern-looking one is Raffiel, the smiling goofball is Astro, the hot redhead is Cillian, and the model one is Dal.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jack says. “I’m Jack Standish. I’ve been working with Rey for years on her music.”
“You’re her producer?” Astro asks conversationally.
“Sometimes, and sometimes I’m just her bitch,” he jokes, making me grin as I put my keys, phone, and coffee down before I stand to stretch. All their eyes go to me, tracking my movements, and Jack huffs.
“Oh, this should be fun.” I smack him on my way by.
“Let’s play it and test,” I offer as I step into the booth. It doesn’t take me long to get set up. We can add instrumentals later. I just want to test the rightness of the lyrics with the melody, so I pop on the headphones, make sure they are adjusted properly, and tug the mic down.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the steady beat of my heart. The music begins, and I shift focus to the notes, working my voice to fit and amplify them, creating more than just a match but a fucking symphony.
I lose myself in the one place where I am free—music.
ELEVEN
Goosebumps rise on my arms as I lean forward. Reign’s eyes are shut, and her body sways with the music. Even with the glass separating us, I can sense the raw emotions and talent in her voice as she moves easily from note to note, and each lyric hammers home until I’m barely breathing.
We could be attacked right now and I would gladly die, trapped by her song.
She’s not even done yet. When she tells Jack to replay the music, she changes it slightly, playing with how it sounds. She makes it seem effortless, but it leaves us all gobsmacked. I glance at the others to see that they feel the same, all their eyes locked on her, unable to speak or move.
We are transported away with her song, until my eyes actually sting with tears and my heart aches with her. It’s impossible, but it’s her. I’ve never heard of anyone who was capable of what she’s doing. It’s like she reaches right into your mind, pulls out every happy and sad memory, and forces you to relive them, all while she’s a melody for it. She makes you feel and see what she wants until the music stops and frees you.
No wonder she’s a rock star. No wonder she rose so quickly to fame. I’ve heard a song or two of hers before, and they are really good, some of my favorites, but seeing it in person is totally different. There’s just something so intimate about watching her face as she sings from the heart, and that’s exactly what she does.
