Chapter 2
LUCCA
Madeline plops down next to me and takes the lyrics from my hands. “I can’t seem to get that second verse right. I’ve tried a million things, and nothing makes it better. What did you hear?”
We turn around to face the bar, and I grab my pen, ready to jot down a few ideas. “The song is amazing. I felt every bit of the emotion in your voice. There are two things we can do.”
“We,”
she whispers, giving me a smile when I peer up at her.
“I’m in this with you. There’s no turning back now,”
I tell her before I return my attention to the paper instead of allowing myself to get sidetracked by her pretty face and plump, pouty lips.
“What makes you tick?”
I peer up at her again. “What makes me tick?”
She nods. “We’ve talked on and off for over a year, and I don’t know much about you except you’re successful and write some of my favorite songs. I want to know who Lucca Bruno is—the man, not the songwriter.”
I set down my pen and turn toward her on the stool. “I’m a pretty boring guy, Madeline.”
“Maddy,”
she corrects me and touches my arm, sending shocks throughout my system. “I think we’ve known each other long enough to get rid of the formalities.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Where are you from?”
“I was born and bred here. You?”
“Same,” she says.
“My parents are up in Watkins Glen now, but they used to live here when we were younger,” I reply.
“We?”
She raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Who’s we?”
“I have a brother and two sisters.”
“Nearby?”
I nod. “My brother and sister-in-law live here in the city along with their kids.”
“You’re an uncle?”
I can’t stop myself from smiling. “I’m the best uncle ever, or, at least, I try to be.”
“I bet you are. I’m an aunt, and it’s the best thing in the world. I get to play with the kids, give them lots of hugs and kisses, and then send them on their way back to my sister. I get to avoid all the hard stuff.”
“Do you want kids of your own?”
Even I am taken aback by my question. Maybe it was too forward and sounded like I was fishing, and maybe somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I am.
“I do someday. I’ll have to give up my career, though, which is hard for me to imagine.”
“Not necessarily,”
I tell her, knowing plenty of successful musicians with children.
“It’s hard to play the bar scene at night with little ones at home.”
She shrugs. “But that’ll require me to find a man first, and that hasn’t happened either.”
She snorts. “A struggling musician doesn’t seem to be a sought-after partner for many. You know my schedule. It’s not conducive to dating.”
“If someone likes you, they’ll find a way to make it work, Maddy.”
“Maybe,”
she says, not sounding convinced.
“Don’t settle for someone who wants to change the things you love doing the most. Music isn’t like anything else. It’s rooted deep in your soul. It’s part of you and not a simple hobby that someone can easily give up. The only person who would be happy about that would be your partner, not you. You’d be miserable.”
“Sounds like you know from experience.”
“Someone wanted me to give up music a long time ago, and I decided to end the relationship instead. She said I’d regret that decision, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about how ridiculous her statement was, especially with all the success I’ve had. I can’t imagine what I’d be doing if I had stayed with her. I know I’d be unhappy and probably working a desk job somewhere.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Right?”
I shake my head. “I love the freedom this work allows me. Heck, I wouldn’t even call this work. When you get to do something you love, there’s no work involved.”
“Well, I love music, but it’s still work for me. I think success and money allow you to feel more like it’s a hobby in a way. I still grind every single day to try to pay the bills.”
The thought of her struggling makes my heart hurt. I have more money than I know what to do with anymore. I never thought I’d be this lucky, but people throw money at me to try to get their song written sooner than others.
“Things will change for you soon.”
She pats my arm softly. “That’s sweet of you to say, but we both know that isn’t true.”
“I meant what I said before…”
“No,”
she interrupts me. “I want to do this myself. It’s how I’m built, Lucca. If I’m not good enough to make it big on my own, I don’t want it to happen.”
“I didn’t get where I am by myself, Maddy. It’s rare and doesn’t mean anything if someone makes a few calls to their friends. We all need help sometimes.”
“I don’t know… For now, I need to do it this way.”
“Okay.”
“I didn’t mean anything negative. No matter how you got your big break, you’re successful.”
“I know.”
“Can I ask you something?”
she says, her hand not moving from my arm.
“Anything.”
“Why don’t you sing your songs yourself?”
I stare at her green eyes, hating that I must tell her what a scaredy-cat I am. “I get stage fright.”
Her mouth drops open. “Really?”
I nod again. “I tried everything, but I couldn’t get over it. It’s why I focused on songwriting. I love music and creating lyrics, but I’ve never been able to make it all the way through a song onstage in front of even a single person.”
“Wow. I wouldn’t have guessed that. It’s such a rush, though. There’s nothing like singing in front of a crowd that’s swaying to your music, and when they cheer and clap at the end…it’s so exhilarating.”
“I feel that way when I hear one of my songs recorded. When someone brings it to life in the perfect way, exactly how I heard it in my head… It’s the greatest.”
“Do you sing when you’re alone?”
“Sometimes,”
I admit, never having told anyone that. But then again, no one’s ever asked me that question before.
“Interesting…”
“Why is it interesting?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. It just is.”
“My voice is similar to fingernails on a chalkboard.”
She stares at me without saying anything for a solid minute. “If you help me with my lyrics, I’ll teach you how to sing. Everyone has a beautiful voice buried deep inside themselves. It just takes more to dig it out of some people than others.”
“I’m fine with mine buried down deep, Maddy. It’s where it should stay, too.”
She gives my forearm a squeeze before she pulls her hand back to grab her drink. “The offer is always there, Lucca.”
Am I an idiot? She’s offering to teach me something that most likely will take a lot of time, which would give me an in with her. It’ll at least give me the ability to spend more time with Maddy, and there’s nothing I want more right now than that.
“Let’s tackle your lyrics, and we can talk about my voice another time.”
“Your speaking voice is dreamy. I can imagine your singing voice as something deep and soulful.”
“If deep and soulful sounds like a dying animal, then yes, that’s exactly how I sound.”
Maddy tips her head back and laughs. “Stop it,”
she says through her laughter as she waves her hand between us. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Not even my mother likes my voice, and she loves everything about me. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, but I’m forbidden from even singing ‘Happy Birthday’.”
Maddy gasps. “You’re lying.”
I chuckle. “My mother is the only person in the world who says I have a nice singing voice. She’s lying, of course, but she was never able to say anything negative to her children.”
“She sounds lovely,”
Maddy breathes.
“What about your parents?”
“They don’t talk to me anymore. When I dropped out of college to follow my dream of becoming a musician, they said they washed their hands of me, and I haven’t heard from them since.”
I wonder if that’s where the heartbreak in most of her songs comes from. I can’t imagine my parents disowning me and never speaking to them again. They’re an important part of my life and have supported every stupid idea and decision I’ve ever made.
“I’m sorry.”
She waves me off. “I’ve come to terms with it. It’s fine.”
She has a sadness on her face when she speaks.
But I don’t believe the words she’s saying. There’s no way a person can be okay with their parents forgetting they exist.
“What do you do at the holidays?”
I ask her, genuinely interested.
“I usually work. All the bars are open, and since I don’t have a family, my availability is wide open, which makes most bar owners very happy.”
“You shouldn’t work on a holiday, especially Christmas.”
“It beats sitting at home alone, watching old Christmas movies about happy families.”
“That’s it. This Christmas, you’re going to come with me to my parents. I refuse to let you be alone, Maddy.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“I thought we were friends, and as soon as I tell my mother, she’ll insist.”
“I’m sure the last thing she wants is one more mouth to feed.”
“You don’t know my mother.”
Maddy stares at me, a soft smile on her face. “Is your family as nice as you?”
“For the most part.”
“Who isn’t?”
“My brother can be intimidating.”
“I think I know who he is. I’ve seen you in here with him a few times. He is intimidating.”
“He’s a big teddy bear, though. He looks tough on the exterior, but he’s a cinnamon roll on the inside.”
“To everyone?” she asks.
“To those he loves.”
“And to the others?”
“Depends on who they are and how they treat him.”
And then I remember she has a sister. “Why don’t you go to your sister’s house on the holidays?”
She shrugs, dragging her drink closer to herself across the bar. “She typically goes to her in-laws’ house and sometimes to my parents. I’m fine with it.”
“Not the next holiday. Christmas is with the Brunos.”
“We’ll see. I don’t want to impose.”
I pull my phone between us and tap the screen, dialing my mother’s cell. She’s a night owl, and I know she’s up doing whatever she does in the late hours of the night.
“What are you doing? It’s late. Don’t bother your mother,”
Maddy says, her voice laced with panic.
“She’s up.”
“Lucca, are you okay?”
my mother asks as Maddy drops her head onto her arm, practically throwing her upper body onto the bar.
“I’m fine, Ma. I had a question.”
“Shoot, honey, you about gave me a heart attack. What’s up?”
“Kill me now,”
Maddy whispers into the polished wood.
“I have a friend who doesn’t have any family in town. I was wondering if they could come home with me for Christmas and spend some time with us.”
Ma gasps before letting out a little squeal. “You’re so sweet, Lucca. Of course. The more, the merrier. Does this friend happen to have boobs?”
“Jesus, Ma,” I mutter.
“Oh my goodness. You’re bringing a girl home for Christmas, aren’t you?”
“This is so embarrassing,”
Maddy mumbles as she raises her head to glare at me.
I give her a wink, ignoring the look of death on her face. “A woman, Ma, and yes. She’s my friend, and I don’t want her to be alone, eating takeout.”
“No. No. No one should be alone at Christmas.”
“That’s all, Ma. Go back to whatever you were doing. I was just sitting here with her working on a song, and I wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I invited her.”
“I was just working on a Christmas present. I’ve become very crafty lately.”
“Just don’t chop off a finger or anything else.”
“No promises, baby,”
she says with a light chuckle. “Night.”
“Night, Ma. I love you.”
“Love you too,”
she says before she disconnects the call.
“Man, you hit the jackpot in all aspects of life, didn’t you?”
Maddy shakes her head. “Great job, even better family. I’m way beyond jealous at this point.”
“Don’t be jealous until you meet them. They may be a little much at times.”
“A little much is better than nothing at all,”
she says softly.
It’s my turn to reach out and place my hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Maddy. That was insensitive of me to say.”
“Lucca, if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you have a tender heart.”
“There’re plenty of people in my past who would say otherwise.”
“They’re idiots.”
“Anyway, I have a few ideas for the song.”
She straightens her back and leans in my direction. “Whatcha got?”
she says, the sorrow of our earlier conversation vanishing in an instant.
I jot down a few lines and add a few that she had in her previous verse. “I think if you do something like this, it’ll flow better.”
She starts to sing the song softly, starting at the chorus and heads into the verse as I wrote it. It sounds good. Not perfect, but better than it was before.
“What if we…”
She takes my pen and crosses out two words, replacing them with something softer. “What do you think of this?”
I read over it, singing it in my head, where I can carry a tune. “I think it’s great.”
Maddy hops off her stool and snatches the paper from in front of me. “I need to do the entire song to make sure it’s right.”
I turn around, watching her as she walks up on the stage, grabs the guitar, and starts to sing. I’m envious of how easy it is for her to do it, too. She doesn’t have a moment of hesitation about singing in front of me. The very thought of me doing the same sends a cold shiver across my skin.
But when she hits the second verse, it’s better than the first time, but it’s still not the best it can be.
She stops playing the guitar, and her gaze meets mine. “Is it me, or is something still off?”
“You’re right.”
“Do you think it’s the words or the melody?”
I stand up, needing to stretch my legs. “Sing it one more time,”
I request, knowing we’re so close to getting it right.
She starts over again, putting her heart and soul into every word and note that she belts out, with only me as her audience. She doesn’t hold back as she sings, and I could watch her every day of my life and never get bored.
This time, she sings through the second verse and heads into the chorus, giving me a longer chunk of the song to make a decision. When she stops, the silence in the bar is deafening.
“Well…”
“What if you changed the note of the last word in the second verse.”
“To what?”
I explain the change, but she just stares at me, blinking like I’ve said the wackiest thing in the world.
“How would that work?”
“Trust me.”
“Come up here,”
she says, dipping her chin to the stool at her side. “It’s weird singing to you out there.”
If it were anyone else, I’d say no. But this is Maddy. A woman I’ve had a secret crush on for months but didn’t think she felt the same. The way she’s been with me tonight, with the small touches and sitting close to me, I think I’ve missed earlier clues and she is now doing her best to make her feelings clear. Even the drunk guy at the bar could see what was between us, despite the fact that I was too dense to do the same.
My shoes feel like they’re filled with cement as I walk toward the stage. “Only for you,”
I say as I climb the stairs, and my stomach begins to flutter.
“Man, your fear is strong. You look like you’re about to pass out, and it’s only the two of us.”
“I haven’t been on a stage in years.”
I swallow down the overwhelming desire to run off the stage, back to the safety of my stool.
I can do this. I can do this for Maddy.
“I promise I won’t bite.”
She smiles at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Unless you want me to.”
Somehow, I chuckle, fighting the fear that’s clawing at my insides.
Maddy holds out her hand, and I take it, needing the extra encouragement to keep myself moving forward. I slide my palm into her hand and am shocked by the electricity again.
“I’m proud of you,”
she says, giving my hand a light squeeze. “Sit there.”
She ticks her head toward the stool, and without a second thought, I plop down before my knees have a chance to give out on me. “Now, how do you want me to change the song?”
I hum the few lines, the closest to singing I can do without sounding like I’m killing an animal.
“I can tell by your hum that there’s a beautiful voice inside you like I thought.”
“Maybe your ears aren’t as good as you think,”
I tell her, adjusting myself on the stool because my ability to sit still is nonexistent.
Maddy takes a step forward and places the guitar on the stand next to me. “Sing the chorus,”
she asks, moving between my legs.
I crane my neck back, staring up at her. “What?”
I swallow hard, the fear and excitement of this moment mingling.
“Sing for me, Lucca,”
she begs as she places her hands on my legs, sending a wave of excitement and hope through my body.
“I really want you right now, Maddy, and I know my voice will kill the moment,”
I croak out, barely able to catch my breath as I speak.
“Your trust will mean more to me than the sound of your voice. Sing, baby,”
she whispers.
I stare into her deep green eyes, and for the first time in my life, I’m unable to say no. I start softly to dull the off-key sound of my voice.
Maddy smiles down at me as I sing, looking happy with the sound of my voice instead of horrified. Maybe I misjudged myself or, as I’ve aged, my tone has changed.
When I finish, she moves her hands from my thighs to palm my cheeks. “That was beautiful.”
I lift my arms, placing my hands on her hips, drawing her toward me. “No, it wasn’t,”
I whisper, wanting her now more than ever.
She leans into me, pressing her body against mine. I dig my fingers into the material of her jeans that sit snugly against her luscious hips.
I raise a hand, sliding my fingers around the side of her neck, and pull her face down to me. “Is this okay?”
I ask, always wanting to check before I act.
“Yes,”
she whispers, her eyes soft and lazy.
My heart beats faster as the anticipation of kissing her gets more intense. I lift my face, staring into her green eyes before I close my eyes and press my lips to hers.
Fireworks explode, sending tiny shocks across my skin and throughout my entire body. Never have I felt this when kissing anyone else.
Her lips are soft and warm as I kiss her gently at first, testing the waters. She pulls back, staring down at me with even softer eyes.
“What was that?”
she asks, sending a moment of panic through me.
“I’m being gentle.”
“Don’t,”
she says firmly before she leans in, taking my lips in a hard and demanding way.
That’s all it takes to make my gentle side fade away. The kiss is long and deep, filled with all the hope and longing I’ve felt for her for months.
I could get lost in her. Get lost in this moment. Months of wanting her have led to this very spot, with her in my grip and lips pressed against mine.
I’d sing in front of a sold-out stadium if it meant I could kiss her again and hold her in my arms.