Dammit! “One song.”
Lyric smiles softly, gives my arm another squeeze and then steps back.
“Come with me,” Gus commands, inching forward and reaching out for my hand. I stare at him, deliberating.
He’s going to fuck up my tower.
I’m an empty shell wrapped in titanium. A fortified abandoned city.
It’s how I’ve survived.
And I will not let anyone tear that all down.
So yeah, he may be gorgeous. And give looks. And smell good. But I’m not going there. Touching his hand is like taking a bite of the poison apple.
“Do I look like Snow White?”
“What?”
I wave him off, stalking off toward the booth on my own, leaving his hand there. He doesn’t look all that bothered by my brush off. No, the flirtatious bastard winks at me. “Let’s do this.”
I suppress my eye roll and follow his lead. “What song are we going to do for them?”
“’Crazy Crime?’”
“Nooooo,” I sputter quickly. “I don’t sing any of my father’s songs. Or my mother’s.”
“Okay.” He gives an unconcerned shrug. “How about one of mine then?”
“Sure.”
“You said you liked ‘Time Surrender?’ Do you know the lyrics, or should I have Steven put them through into the tablet?”
“I don’t know them off the top of my head,” I reply as we step into the booth. It’s not typical to have more than one person singing in here at the same time. Usually, it’s a one person at a time process, but I think we should sing together because that’s how it would be on stage. I speak into the microphone, putting the cans on my ears. “Steven?”
“Yeah?”
“Play ‘Time Surrender’ for me.”
“You got it.”
Gus glances over at me, his eyebrows pinched together. “You can remember the lyrics from hearing the song? You don’t need to read them?”
I just shrug at that because I usually can. Not always, but I’ve heard this song a few times before. It was all over the radio about six months back, so I should be able to pick it up after a refresher. Besides, reading lyrics sometimes throws off my rhythm.
The sound of a heavy drumbeat comes through the headphones into my ears and I close my eyes, absorbing the sound. I’m not only listening for the words, but for how they play together. How Gus and Jasper sing together.
Damn, Gus rips the shit out of that guitar. Jasper does too, but he lets Gus rule on that. He has a distinct edge when he goes at it, and that’s not the way I typically play. Jasper’s voice comes through and wow, he’s so good. Absolutely incredible.
It’s one of the reasons that Wild Minds is who they are. Plus, their sound and lyrics are just phenomenal. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a song of theirs I didn’t like, and the fact that their songs and albums consistently hit top ten speaks to their talent.
I do my best to cut Jasper out, focusing on Gus. His tone is sort of smoky with decent range and tight control.
I listen to the song in its entirety and then nod my head at Gus. He addresses the microphone, standing very close to me and whispering in that same smoky tone he sings with, “You feel like you got it?”
I ignore the flutter in my chest and grumble, “Yep. I’m good. Steven, play the instrumentals only, please.”
“I’m going to sing Jasper’s part,” I tell Gus, looking up into his gray eyes. He’s staring at me with that same expression I can’t discern, so I soldier on. “I want you to sing your part. Not just listen to me. I want to hear what we both sound like on the track when we sing separately and together.”
“Agreed.” He smiles, his face inches from mine, our eyes tangling in such a way that makes unruly butterflies erupt in my stomach. “For someone who said they didn’t want to do this, you’re giving a lot of orders and suddenly very interested in the way we sound together.”
Heat begins to crawl up my skin, tingling in my fingertips and toes.
Steven’s voice comes through my headphones, bringing me back, and saving me from any rebuttal I was useless to give. “I’m ready when you are.”
I wave my finger in the air, making small circles and the music begins again and mercifully, Gus is all business. He sings, standing even closer to me, and when it gets to my part, I join him. Our voices float through the room, harmonizing seamlessly. Gus doesn’t hold back. He sings this song like it’s the last one he’ll ever sing, his energy strong, his passion infectious.
I take over, forming the lead while Gus comes through as backup. There are no other voices right now. It’s not the way the song is meant to be sung. But Gus and I make it our own as our words mingle, coming through our headphones in perfect orchestration.
His eyes burn into mine, our gravity shifting from singing independently, to singing to each other. I twist to face him. His body is practically against mine, his warmth caressing me. I brush my hair back from my face, desperate to feel more of it on my bare skin. I smile and he smiles too, and I don’t even know how this happens, but suddenly, there is nothing else but us.
Just these words and this sound that flows from us like a rushing river.
Adrenaline courses through my veins. A swell of power rises up from the pit of my stomach, surging from me in a gust of breath and notes. There is an aura to this. A tangible haze. I taste its flavor on my tongue.
It’s erotic and spicy and fucking hot.
Gus’ eyes devour me, turning from a light gray to a smoldering charcoal. He’s feeling this too. This unfathomable high. This incredible rush. His fingers reach out, brushing mine, toying with them, and I shift once more, letting him.
And when the song comes to a close, we’re both panting with flushed cheeks and glowing smiles. It’s like those first few moments after really amazing sex. There really is no other way to describe it.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “That was…” Words fail him as he shakes his head in awe, his smile only growing.
And suddenly, everything that just transpired crashes down on me, submerging me beneath cold, brutal waves. I haven’t felt anything that closely resembled that since the last time I sang with Florian. It’s as beautiful a sensation as it is tragic and suffocating.
This is why I didn’t want to do this. This is why I said no and should never have allowed them to manipulate me.
This…
“I’m so sorry,” I tell him, my voice catching.
I bolt for the door of the booth and plow past Lyric, Ethan, and Steven. I fly down the hall and slam my fist into the elevator button. The second it comes, I step on and hit the close door button. Just as it’s about to close, I see Gus’ panicked face, his eyes meeting mine as his lips dip down into a frown.
But it’s too late. The doors close.
He ran after me.
The elevator car descends along with what’s left of my heart.
I lean back against the wall, trying desperately to ground myself and rein in my erratic thoughts. But I’m useless to stop them. To prevent the toxic poison as it seeps through my black soul.
“What did you write, Gus?” I whisper into the empty elevator. Because suddenly, all I want to do is sing it with him.