AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I love each and every day.
“Don’t touch it!” I shout when Laken almost scraps the entire thing at the end of the final line. “This is the beginning. We moveupfrom here.”
After flicking through his verse and mine, I make a handful of adjustments before seeking Laken’s opinion.
My heart refuses to beat while I wait for his approval. And when I get it, it is like all my Christmases have come at once.
I squeal like I’m years younger than I am before I flick to the next song in my songbook.
“Now work your magic on this one.”
* * *
By the time River announces he’s not waiting a second longer to eat, my bed is covered with composed song sheets, and my heart is the fullest it’s ever been.
Although I never imagined it occurring in a hotel room thousands of miles from my hometown, this is what I envisioned when I conjured up what producing an album would entail.
It should have never been “that isn’t right” or “that’s not the vision we’re going for.” It was meant to be an inspiring time that encouraged both creativity and originality.
Laken gave me that.
He gave me back my voice.
“In a minute, River,” Laken murmurs, his focus fixed on a song we’ve been working on for the past hour. “Let me finish this one first.”
“You said that three hours ago.” River stomps his foot. “I’m hungry now.”
“I won’t be a—” I curl my hand over Laken’s and squeeze it, stopping him mid-denial.
When he peers at me in shock that I want to place anything between me and a guaranteed multi-platinum album, I shrug like it isn’t a rarity. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast…” I check the time on his retro watch. “That was almost seventeen hours ago.”
“See,” River bursts out, unaware the only thing I’m craving right now is more of Laken’s musical genius but I’m setting it aside solely for him and his hungry tummy. “Even someone with a brain as big as Nicole’s knows the importance of eating.” He rubs his stomach like he didn’t eat two buckets of popcorn and multiple boxes of Maltesers duringCasablanca. “And there’s no better brain food than overloaded tacos.”
“Tacos?” Laken asks, his brow high. “You’re upset that we delayed a food binge that will have you spending the rest of the day on the toilet, crapping it out?”
“Tacos don’t make me poop,” River denies, his lofty tone hinting at his fib.
Laken’s brow inches higher and higher and higher until River has no choice but to rebut his lie. “Still worth it.”
After hitting him with a sassy look I can’t help but smile about, he spins on his heels and stalks away.
Laken and I shadow his exit shoulder to shoulder only two seconds later.
* * *
“I told you tacos—”
“Yeah, yeah, save your lecture for when I’m not about to shit my pants,” River interrupts, glaring at his brother. He nudges his head to a café outside our hotel that’s preparing for the early morning breakfast rush. That’s how late our song session ran over. It is almost dawn. “You should probably buy dessert.” His adorable almond eyes sling to me. “Thiswon’tbe pretty, and my bathroom has no air freshener.”
“Dessert sounds great.” I spin to Laken to hide the humor on my face before asking, “Care to join me?”
“I’d love to.”
I want to pretend his quick response isn’t because of his brother’s warning, but when River’s backside squeaks louder than his shoes as he races through the rotating door of our hotel, my hope slithers.
Don’t get me wrong. Even while purchasing tacos from a food vendor a couple of blocks up from our hotel, the pride in Laken’s eyes didn’t diminish. He just seems a little uneasy when we’re alone.
Anyone would swear it is a conscious effort for him to keep his hands off me.
