Chapter 2 #2
“Yes.” How embarrassing. It’s one of South Bound’s songs.
I didn’t consciously realize what I was playing.
It’s hard not to notice Axel’s terrific looks and how his presence charges the room.
He has always had that star quality about him.
Seth—err, Axel—used to be gangly with an occasional breakout of acne.
Now he’s lean with smooth, olive-toned skin and prominent cheekbones.
I can’t decide if his eyes are blue or green, but they’re flecked in gold. His wavy hair is longer on top.
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Good grief. Even his speaking voice has a musical lilt.
I’m both disappointed and relieved that he doesn’t recognize me.
Will my unusual name jog something in his memory?
I hope not. “I’m London. I work for Bianca Jackson.
I’m supposed to be decorating trees, but as you can see, I got a little distracted.
” I offer a sheepish grin. It’s crazy to think the guy I crushed on all throughout junior high and high school is here.
Or rather, I’m in his home. I’ve hated him for so long that I’m not sure how to act.
“Don’t let me stop you. Carry on.”
My eyes go round. “With you here?”
“Of course.” He strides over to the wall of guitars. “I’ll join you.”
“Okay.” How am I supposed to play in Axel Cox’s presence?
He reaches for a guitar, slides it over his shoulder, and goes over to perch on a barstool. “Count us off.”
“One … two … three …” I launch in with the intro. He comes in right on cue. We sound surprisingly good together, and I manage to hold my own. Axel even sings the lyrics. Once the song is over, he throws me a grin. “You’re not half bad.”
I smirk. “Neither are you.”
He laughs. “How about we try another one? Just Gone. Do you know it?”
Rather than answering, I start drumming. He comes in at the right time, and away we go.
At the end of the song, he calls out another one, and we play it. Exhilaration pulses through me. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.
“You’re pretty good at this.” He gives me an appraising look. “Exactly why’re you decorating trees?”
The compliment warms me from head to toe. To think what I would’ve given for a kind word from him back in the day. I have to remind myself that he broke my young, tender heart, and I’ve been gunning for him ever since. “Music is something I do for me.”
“I heard that.” A shadow crosses his face.
The journalist in me sniffs a story, but I have to tread cautiously—develop a rapport before he’ll open up.
“Should we go again?”
A smile breaks over my face. “I’m game if you are. How about Morning Regret?” South Bound has so many good songs that it’s not hard to choose one to play.
He nods as I start us off.
We get partway into the song before a woman’s voice floats down the hall. “Axel … it’s me.”
Axel stops playing, prompting me to do the same.
Zoe steps into the room, looking like a million bucks in a fur-trimmed chocolate colored coat, jeans, and tall leather boots. A large smile fills her beautiful face. “Hey, handsome. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” When she sees me, her smile falters. “Who are you?”
“London. I work for Bianca.”
“What’re you doing in here?” She throws Axel a look of accusation.
I smile through the sudden chill in the room as an explanation falls from my lips. “I spotted the drum set and couldn’t resist.” Putting down the sticks, I scramble off the drum throne.
Zoe looks me up and down with disapproving eyes. Self-consciously, I push a strand of hair away from my face. I dressed casually in a sweatshirt and jeans, but fixed my hair and makeup. Even so, I feel woefully inadequate compared to the glamorous YouTube star.
“I saw the trees. You haven’t gotten as much done as I’d hoped.” Zoe perches a hand on her hip.
“I’ll get back to it. Thanks,” I say to Axel and scuttle out of the room.
Once back at the tree, voices drift out to me.
“I’m calling Bianca and giving her a piece of my mind,” Zoe fumes. “She promised to send someone out who would get everything decorated in time for the party on Saturday. I come in, and she’s playing band member.”
“She was just taking a break,” Axel argues. “I’m sure she’ll do fine. How hard can it be to decorate a few trees?”
I roll my eyes and mumble, “You try it, buster.”
Zoe sounds wounded. “Why’re you taking her side?”
“I’m not. I just don’t think it’s fair to throw the girl under the bus for taking a breather.”
“I just want everything to be perfect for the party.” Zoe’s voice turns pouty. “I’ve put so much into this, and I hate that I have to be gone this week for that stupid skiing segment.”
“Come here,” Axel says in a placating tone. “It’ll be okay.”
What a faker. Is Axel so stupid that he can’t see through her act?
Zoe Reynolds isn’t nearly as worried about her party as she is about having another woman in the house—playing drums for her boyfriend.
Well, she’s worried for nothing. Axel Cox is the last guy I’d be interested in, especially considering our history …
which he’s obviously clueless about. There’s no telling how many hearts that man has broken over the years.
Why should he remember some mousy girl he had band with?
The voices go quiet. I can only assume they’re kissing and making up.
He defended me. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Even though Axel tried to talk her down, Zoe might very well call Bianca. I could be off this story as quickly as I was put on it.
But if that happens, Harmony will balk, and that won’t bode well for Bianca. Harmony has some hold over Bianca. And whatever that is might just save my bacon. One thing I know about Harmony is that she’s not the sort of person to trifle with.
As I go back to the mundane task of wrapping branches, my mind replays the impromptu music session.
A smile curves my lips. Axel and I played together.
He can be quite charming when he wants to be.
Horror gushes over me. Didn’t I just affirm that I’m no longer interested in him romantically?
Still, if I were meeting him for the first time, he didn’t seem half bad.
Guilt pricks me. I’ve written so many awful things about him.
Things he deserved.
I need to remember that he’s not my friend but my sworn enemy.
I’m here to get the scoop on a story.
Anything I do must serve that purpose.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.