Chapter 8
I arrive at the studio and use Micah’s spare key to let myself in. I’m relieved to see I’ve got the place to myself because I need to focus on working up the parts.
I keep the lights low to give the space the right vibe, and I spend a minute tuning up my kit. Then I take a few deep breaths to get my head back in the game well enough to work the beats.
I run through each of the older songs on my own, and everything is feeling pretty tight all around. I’m just about to start working on some ideas for the new song when I hear a creak as the sound door swings open.
It’s Micah.
He looks surprised to see me. “Wow, Kace,” he says softly, smiling with his eyebrows raised as if to say, can you believe what happened last night?
I turn my eyes away and play like I didn’t catch it, but my cheeks are hot. I need to get things back on track. It’s got to be all business from now on.
He walks over and sets his guitar case next to his amp .
“I’m glad I found you,” he says. “I was hoping we could talk before you left this morning.”
“Yeah, I was up early. I have to stay focused if I’m gonna be able to lay down the tracks before the deadline.” I try to make it sound convincing. “I don’t want to lose any valuable time.”
He’s still smiling. “Sure, Kace. I understand. But about what happened last night…”
I make the mistake of peering into those pale blue eyes at the precise moment he’s saying the words, “what happened last night,” and my mind is hijacked by sexy memories of our bodies moving together, and I feel a rush of heat between my thighs. Apparently someone forgot to tell my body the plan.
“There’s nothing to say,” I tell him, keeping my composure and trying to sound reassuring. “It was just a stupid mistake, that’s all. Nothing has to change or be weird between us, I promise.”
He tips his head to the side, like he’s not so sure. “Really? I mean—that was intense. It felt like there might be something going on between us. At least, that’s what I thought.”
Wait. Does he want there to be something happening between us? The expression on his face tells me he’s interested in hooking up again, which is…shocking.
But there’s no way I can let that happen. Sure, we could probably have some wild fun, but we both know it wouldn’t last. I’m not the kind of girl that can keep a man like Micah around.
Besides, he’s going on tour in just a few weeks, and he’ll forget about plain-old me in a hot minute once he’s on the road with all those beautiful women crawling all over him.
My chest squeezes just thinking about it. I can hardly breathe. There’s no way I can let myself get any deeper into this than I already am. If I don’t get us back on track, this is going to destroy us.
“No, I had too much wine. I didn’t even know what I was doing. You know I’m such a lightweight. I was acting crazy last night.”
“Well sure, I know you don’t drink much, but?—”
“Yeah, and just for the record”—I tell him—“I know you were trying to do the right thing. You never made me feel pressured or anything, so please don’t even worry about it. Honestly, the whole thing is just so embarrassing. I’m—I’m just ready to put it behind us, you know?”
“Oh. Uhh…yeah, I understand.” I watch as his expression hardens. He almost seems hurt, but obviously he’ll be OK. It’s just the weirdness of everything right now. We just need to get through this awkwardness and get back to where we used to be.
“Everything is fine,” I reassure him, trying to catch his eye, but he’s looking away from me now.
“OK,” he says. “Then I guess we should get to work.”
He straps on his guitar, and his amp crackles as he plugs in.
Just then I hear the ping of his phone getting a text message.
“Do you need to get that?” I ask.
“No, it’s fine. Let’s get started.”
We spend a couple of hours working the first half of the songs to a point where they’ll be ready to record this afternoon, but something is missing.
He sounds good, as always, and I’m hitting all the beats, but the energy is off.
Everything feels flat somehow. I notice he’s got his body turned away from me.
He’s not looking into my eyes the way he usually does when we lock in and things start feeling good.
It stings, actually, that he won’t meet my eyes.
“OK, we’re ready to record those,” he says. “I’ll text Mallory, the producer, and let her know.”
He takes his phone out of his pocket to text her, but when he sees the screen his expression turns serious.
“What is it?” I ask .
“It’s nothing.” He taps on his phone for a few seconds as if he’s sending a reply.
“OK, I’ll let Mallory know,” he says again, and he’s in the middle of tapping out a message to her when there’s a loud click and the lights in the sound booth come on.
A woman strides across the booth and plops herself into a rolling chair at the soundboard.
She hasn’t noticed us yet, and she busies herself with some papers she’s brought with her.
“Oh, she’s here,” Micah says. “I’ll go say hi and get her caught up, and then I’ll introduce you.”
“Sure thing. Sounds good.” I nod.
I watch him as he steps into the sound booth, and Mallory stands up to greet him. I can’t hear what they’re saying because of all the soundproofing, but she seems warm and friendly, and I like her already.
Ping.
Micah’s phone vibrates on top of his guitar amp, and the screen lights up.
I wonder who’s texting him. It seems like maybe something’s wrong.
Ping.
Another text?
Mallory glances my way and gives me a sweet little wave. I smile and wave back. Micah’s probably explaining about how Rebecca took off. She can’t be very happy to find out she’s getting little old me instead of Rebecca, the world-famous drummer, but if she’s upset she’s hiding it well.
Ping.
Who keeps texting him?
I glance over toward the sound booth again, but the two of them are deep in conversation.
I better check who it is, just in case it’s important.
I take a couple of steps over to peek at his phone.
REBECCA: Oh yes, I’m back and I’m all yours.
What? What does she mean she’s back? She’s supposed to be in New York right now. Why would she fly all the way back to Chicago?
The gears in my brain are starting to turn. Something’s wrong with this picture.
She’s all his? And the little kiss?
Have they been sleeping together this entire time?
Ping.
I can’t look away.
REBECCA: I’ll bring my kit back to the studio in the morning.
Why is she bringing her kit over here? There’s no way I’m recording on her drum set even if it is the best money can buy. Why would Micah even ask her to bring her drums over here when he knows I prefer my own kit?
Unless he asked her to come back and finish recording the album.
No.
No.
NO!
This isn’t happening.
Except, of course it is. Because why would Micah still want to record anything with me if Rebecca is available?
Wow. Just wow.
He’s just been buttering me up this whole time, pretending he was happy with me because he figured I was his only option.
The door to the sound booth bursts open, and Micah steps out toward me .
White-hot shards of shame and humiliation sear into my heart as our eyes meet.
“How could you?” I shout across the room.
He’s moving toward me, his eyes wide. “Hold on?—”
“No. I can’t believe I let you do this to me—again!”
I grab for my purse and make a break for the exit.