Chapter 2
SELENA
When Iris Adler handed you an edible, you took it and said, “Thank you, Mother,”
even if your intention for the evening had been to curl up with a mug of tea and a book.
Iris wasn’t my mama, but she was an absolute goddess of rock.
My idol.
The fact that she liked me too still boggled my mind, and even more mind-boggling was that I’d co-written three songs with her on TSC’s last album, solo-written two, and I was on my way to having my lyrics in just as many songs on their new album.
Since Iris found me online four years ago, my safe, calm, quiet world exploded.
A golden award statue, a dream career, and an entirely new lifestyle later, and here I was.
Out to dinner with Iris and the band like they were regular people.
The hell of it was, they kind of were.
I’d known goofy, sweet guys like Rodrigo back in school.
Quiet, mysterious men like Callum had sat at the bar I used to tend.
Friendly golden retriever types like Adam were neighbors. I even occasionally ran into stunningly beautiful but shockingly nice and funny girls like Iris at sample sales or grabbing coffee.
After four years in their orbit, I didn’t quiver in their presence.
But I was still me.
Selena Cruz from Queens.
The girl with the stutter and big ass—though only one of those was seen as a fault around here, and it wasn’t the size of my ass.
“I get the sense you need this, honey bunny,”
Iris whispered.
“Your senses are t-t-tingling.”
I popped the proffered weed gummy into my mouth. “Thanks, girlie.”
She winked and punched my shoulder lightly. “Anything for my main squeeze.”
I laughed. “D-don’t tell Ronan that.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Lenie. Ronan is well aware that if he tried to get between me and your lyrics, I’d forsake him in a heartbeat.”
She sighed, pressing her hands to her cheek, no doubt thinking of her huge, Irish bodyguard husband. “No one else can turn emotion into art like you do.”
“Th-thank you.”
I wanted to say more to her, but the irony of my life was while I had a gift with words, I couldn’t easily get them out of my mouth. Only when I sang, but unfortunately, life wasn’t a musical.
I took a bite of my juicy, southern-fried chicken sandwich, probably making a mess of myself. My lips were saucy, hands greasy, but it was delicious. I moaned at the crispy saltiness on my tongue.
That was when I felt eyes on me.
His eyes.
The suit who was hanging around the studio this week was watching me from across the table. Today had been his second day sitting in on TSC’s recording session, and he’d been as unobtrusive as a man who looked like that could be.
Keeping my face tilted down, I peeked at him and accidentally met his assessing gaze. My stomach plummeted like I was going over the edge of a rollercoaster.
This man was too slick, too cool, and far, far too good-looking to be my type.
He had the tall, dark, and handsome thing down pat. Easily six three or four, he was leanly muscled and wore his finely tailored clothing like it was made for him.
His rich, earthy brown skin was silky smooth. I bet he lathered himself in expensive lotion morning and night. His black hair was buzzed almost to the scalp, and I wondered what it would feel like to drag my hand over it.
Well, I’d never know. It was frowned upon to touch the heads of strangers, and this man wasn’t going to be around long enough for us to become acquainted.
Iris elbowed me. “Did you get introduced to Marco?”
I shook my head and swallowed my mouthful of food. “N-n-no, I didn’t.”
“Let’s rectify that, honey bunny.”
She put her hand on my shoulder and beamed, revealing the cute gap between her front teeth. “Marco, this is Selena. She’s an absolute genius who never gives herself enough credit, so if she tries to deny it, don’t believe her.”
Marco swept his deep brown eyes over me and bit down on his plump bottom lip. My goddamn soul evacuated my body, then rushed back in, not wanting to miss a moment of this man looking at me like a piece of cake. With sprinkles.
“Hello, Selena. Nice to meet you.”
Marco’s voice was like butter, so smooth it slid over me.
But now he was looking at me, waiting for a reply.
So I waved because I was certain if I tried to speak, I wouldn’t be able to get a word out without stuttering.
He stared at me expectantly, which I got. It was common courtesy to reply with words, but he had me tongue-tied more than usual, and the edible hadn’t kicked in enough to mellow my anxiety.
I mouthed, “Nice to meet you too,”
hoping it was good enough.
Iris squeezed my shoulder. “You two can get to know each other at our next stop.”
Marco raised a brow. “You’re taking me to a second location?”
She laughed. “You only need to be concerned about that if I’m kidnapping you, which I’m not. I already have one tall drink of water at home. I have no use for another.”
He chuckled. “Glad we got that settled. How about you, Selena? Is there a husband waiting up for you, too?”
I shook my head, wishing I could channel some Iris Adler. She made it look so easy, and it probably was for her. In my head, I was spunky like her. I had all kinds of comebacks on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t force myself to even try to say them.
“Well,”
he huffed. “That’s cool. For the record, I don’t have a husband either.”
“Wife?”
Iris asked.
“Nope. Too damn early to settle down. I’ll give it a few more years,”
he replied.
Iris wiggled her fingers, showing off her wedding band. “Do I seem settled to you? Say no, because I’m not. Being married is fucking fun.”
He slowly crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Why is it that the marrieds always try to get the singles joined up? My boys do it, too. ‘When you gonna settle down, Marco?’ and ‘Time to let a woman make an honest man out of you.’”
He focused on me. “Do your married friends try to get you to join them?”
I lifted a shoulder, but if I didn’t speak soon, it was going to get weird.
“No,”
I murmured.
His eyes lit up. “Ah, she speaks. I was wondering if I should take it personally that I couldn’t get a word out of you. Now it’s my mission to get another one before the night’s over.”
Iris patted my leg under the table and bumped my shoulder with hers. She knew my issues with speaking to new people, and she was always trying to draw me out because she wanted the world to know me like she did.
This was why I loved her and why she drove me nuts.
Luckily, love was the stronger emotion.
“G-good luck,”
I whispered.
Marco shot me a mischievous grin. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”