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"We'll take one serving of bacon, coffee, and a pancake topped with fresh raspberries, please... and one rose," I say, winking at Bailey.
I put the phone down and turn back to Bailey.
"The usual? With a rose?" She raises a brow at me.
"I may have ordered once or twice before... Maybe..."
She quirks an eyebrow at me "Professional ladies man, huh? Have a whole routine worked out." She shakes her head in mock disapproval. "I should have made you order two roses."
I lean back against the plush headboard. "Two? One for each of your personalities?"
"And what are these personalities, Logan?"
"There's the fiery Bailey who demands what she wants." I gesture to the phone. "Like bacon and fresh raspberries for breakfast." I grin. "And then there's the icy Bailey. The one who tries to act like she's too good for a guy like me."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Absolutely," I confirm, my tone mock serious. "In fact, you might be the only woman I've met who can be so professionally hot and cold."
"I'm one of a kind, what can I say?"
Our breakfast is served and we eat, lost in our conversation and banter. There are no lulls with her. Always energy flowing between us. It's refreshing.
As we finish breakfast, I get excited. "Ready to hit the studio?"
"Yes, I am!" She drains the last of her coffee and we leave for date number two.
* * *
We enter the studio,and I flick on the lights. Bailey's eyes double in size, taking in the room filled with instruments, recording equipment, and soundboards.
She looks like a kid in a candy store. She starts darting around, her fingers hovering over buttons and knobs.
"What's this do?" She points at the mixer.
"That, my dear, is the magic maker." I walk over to where Bailey is standing and pointing. "It's a mixer. It controls the volume and tone of each individual instrument or voice recorded."
"And this over here is the soundboard," I continue, leading her over to a massive panel of buttons and knobs. "Different channels for different sounds. The sliders here control the volume, and these switches adjust the frequency. It's where we shape the sound."
"Wow. It's a lot more complex than I thought." Her fingers brush against the multitude of knobs and sliders. I like watching them move for some reason. She's so graceful.
"You must know what you're doing."
"Well, I spend a lot of time here."
"You do? I had no idea, Logan."
"This place... it's my home away from home. Whenever the world gets too loud, too much, I come here. It's my therapy."
She looks at me, her blue eyes catching the dim light in the room.
"I've made some of my best music in this room. After fights with my father, bad breakups, rumors flying around the city..." I look around the room, at the instruments and equipment, each piece telling a story of its own. "It's not just about the music to me. It's about the process, the journey. It's about turning pain into something else, something that others can relate to. It's about... healing."
Bailey takes a step closer, her hands resting on my chest. I can feel her heartbeat. There's a look in her eyes, a mix of surprise and admiration.
I see her swallow, her eyes darting to my lips and then back up to meet my gaze. Without another word, she reaches up, pulling my face down to hers, and kisses me. It's not like the playful kisses we've shared before. This one is different. It's passionate, intense, and filled with emotions neither of us have admitted to yet.
I get lost in her, wrapping my arms around her. For a moment, everything else fades away.
