Page 79 of Down Beat
“Hurt,” I say, averting my gaze as she continues to watch me close. “Anger, and resentment.”
“Where’s the hope?” she asks gently, thumbs stroking my face. “Where is the line that tells of how you overcame?”
They don’t exist. I sing about how trapped I feel, how hopeless. “I’m my own worst enemy, aren’t I?” I search her eyes, hoping for confirmation that I understand now.
A soft smile curves her lips. She almost looks… proud?
“Don’t underestimate yourself. Stop telling yourself you’re worth nothing. Don’t use your music to pet your pain, to nurture it, and to feed it. Use your music to push it out, to heal, and to encourage you.”
Who the fuck is this woman? And who the fuck put her on a path with me?
Is this what divine intervention feels like? Because no way in fucking hell did we crash her concert by pure chance.
I push my hands off the floor to lean into her, Tabby having to adjust her seat on my legs to keep from falling backward. Her hands slip back to my shoulders as I loop my arms around her waist and tug her flush against me.
“Twenty-seven years of hell,” I tell her as I search her face. “Almost three decades of pain before I’m finally gifted you.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows, the silence in the room deafening while I wait on her to answer—to say anything.
“You have to do this yourself,” she tells me carefully, eyes flicking between mine. “I can support you, but I won’t do it for you.”
“Help me,” I plead. “Come back with me, kitty, and show me how to write better music. Uplifting music.”
She scoffs, looking away until I give her a sharp tug to bring her back. “I don’t know the first thing about rock music.”
“You said it yourself—it’s basic once you break it down. It’s layers. You know how it works.” Damn it. Come on, kitty. “Please.” She pulls in a sharp breath as I close the small space between us and place a kiss to her forehead. “I need you.”
Her gaze meets mine, and for a fleeting moment I find my utopia.
I always thought it was a place, an event. But it’s not. It’s a feeling.
A feeling I only get from one person.
Her.
“I don’t know. I—”
“Please,” I whisper again, skimming my nose against the side of hers. “I’ll talk to Wallace and see if we can get you on stage again. I’ll make it worth your while.”
She relaxes against my arms, giving me all the confidence I need to take this that one step further.
“Come be with me,” I murmur as I lean in for the kill.
She sucks a sharp breath in her nose as my lips brush against hers. The hammering of my heart fills the brief second I give her before I repeat the action. Don’t reject me. I’ve asked for plenty in my life, but all I hope for in this moment is for her to need me too.
Her warm breath caresses my mouth as I hold steady a hair’s breadth from her, giving her that last out, that last chance to push against me and back away. Yet she doesn’t. The whole day, the disruption I caused and the pain I put Toby through is justified the moment she leans forward and gives me her wordless answer.
Her lips tease mine, soft and seemingly unsure before a switch flips. Her kiss grows hungry, her ass scooting forward as she tries to get closer, to remove any space between us while she tugs at my bottom lip with hers.
I’m not one to brag, but I’ve kissed plenty of willing girls over the years, yet not one of those meaningless hookups hold a candle to this.
Maybe it’s Tabby? Maybe it’s because for the first time ever I actually feel the unmistakable need to have a person close, to keep her with me. For once, I can’t imagine why I would want to walk away.
I tilt my head a little, allowing her to deepen the kiss as she brings her hands to the sides of my face. Her breath comes fast as she finishes with a single, teasing sweep of her tongue before she pulls back and presses her forehead to mine.
“Okay.”
I chuckle, stealing another brief taste of her lips. “Is that all? Just ‘okay’?”
She laughs, pulling back to look me in the eye. “Okay, Rey Thomas. I’ll join you. But not because you’re some famous person who can show me the world, blah, blah, blah.” Her eyes roll. “But because it’s you.” She sets a palm to my chest, over my heart. “Because you were brave enough to show me the real you, and that guy, the nice guy, the real guy, is the one I like.” She peers up at me from under her lashes, bashful. “The one I really like.”
“Fuck, kitty.” I wrap a hand around the back of her head and pull her in for a better kiss, a more heated kiss.
The kind that tells her I really like her too.
“You make me feel like a horny fucking teenager all over again: awkward and a little bit insane.”
She laughs, swatting at me before her face falls and she pulls in a deep breath. “I’m serious, Rey. I like the real you, and that guy I’d help any damn way I could.” She dots a cute little peck of her lips on the end of my nose. “Because I want him to stick around. Always.”
Fuck. For her, I might have finally found a reason to want to.