Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
Three hours later, I let out a groan. “Enough! I can’t play this wretched song again, or I’ll go nuts.”
He frowns. “We’re just getting started.”
I point a drumstick at him. “You’re a workaholic. This is getting ridiculous.”
“Hey,” he counters. “This is what it takes to play in the big league.”
“You’re a masochist, a sadist, and a perfectionist all rolled into one.”
“Am not. You’re too soft.” He quirks a grin. “You need to toughen up.”
His words are a siren that blares in my ears. “What? I’ll show you soft.” I lob the drumstick at him. It sails through the air before hitting his shoulder.
“Ouch,” he yelps.
Oops. What have I done? As usual, my temper got the best of me. “Sorry,” I grimace. Is this where he’ll call me a lunatic and throw me out?
A slow grin moves over his mouth. “You’re gonna pay for that one.”
I squeal as he jumps up from the stool, puts his guitar down, and comes toward me. I scramble off the throne and plant my feet, wielding the remaining drumstick like a sword.
“Careful,” I warn, “I took taekwondo in middle school.” Granted, I was terrible at it, but I’m not about to tell him that.
“Ooh.” He holds up his hands and shakes them. “Now I’m scared.”
My hand flies to my hip. “You’d better be, Mister.”
He lunges. I try to dodge out of his reach, but he catches me and spins me around. I wiggle to escape his grasp, but he holds me with an iron grip, arms wrapped around mine.
“Now what are you gonna do?” he murmurs in my ear.
Attraction whooshes through me, nearly stealing my breath.
When he loosens his grip ever so slightly, I make a break for it, but he catches me again. “Where do you think you’re going?” He turns me around to face him.
My throat goes dry as I lift my eyes to his.
Triumph registers on his handsome face. “You were saying something about fancy taekwondo moves.”
“You’re such a bully.”
“That, I am.” A slow grin tugs at his mouth. “I kind of like having you as my prisoner.”
I eye him in a challenge. “What now?” Will he kiss me this time? Anticipation thrums through me with the force of thunder.
“You’re so tense.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your forehead’s all wrinkled up like a raisin.”
“Is not!” My eyebrows shoot up. Ugh! He thinks I’m shriveled.
He laughs. “Even worse.”
A giggle circles my throat as I force my forehead to relax. “Stop harassing me.” If he weren’t pinning my arms to my sides, I’d use my hand to smooth my skin.
“I could give you a shoulder rub.”
My eyes pop. “Tempting, but I think I’ll pass.”
He frowns. “Too bad. How about a dance instead?”
“A dance?” My heart skitters. “You dance?”
“Yep, it goes with the territory.”
“That’s right. Your mom’s a—” Realizing my blunder, I clamp my lips shut. Yikes! How could I be so stupid? I’m getting too comfortable with him, and it’s making me sloppy.
He looks puzzled. “My mom’s what?”
My cheeks turn hot enough to melt metal. “You mentioned that your mom runs a dance studio. I assume that means she can dance.” When he doesn’t look convinced, I blurt. “I read somewhere that your mom was a dancer.”
“She is. Where did you read that?”
This is worse than trying to stay afloat in a tidal pool. “Um … I can’t remember. It was somewhere online …” Open mouth, insert foot.
“Dancing was a requirement in my household growing up.”
And yet he couldn’t see his way to take me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Resentment burns my chest. I got jipped out of dancing with him all those years ago. I’m not about to let history repeat itself. A reckless streak shoots through me. “Alright, John Travolta, let’s see what you’ve got.”
In swift movements, he releases my arms and encircles my waist, drawing me closer. He grasps my right hand with practiced ease. “Place your other hand on my shoulder.”
How am I supposed to dance when I’m this close to him? Every cell in my body is sizzling. “There’s no music,” I protest.
A chuckle rumbles in his throat. “We’ll make our own.” He leads me around the room, humming I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. Normally, a guy singing without music would be hokey. But when that guy is Axel Cox, well, there’s nothing hokey about it. The whole experience is downright intoxicating.
No surprise, he’s light on his feet. He twirls me around, first one direction and then the other. We do pretty well at first. Then he goes one way, and I go the other. To my dismay, I step on his foot.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
Amusement colors his features. “Don’t let it happen again.”
I lift my chin. “If you would do a better job of leading—”
His laughter cuts me off. “Oh, no. Don’t go blaming me for your mistake.”
“Humph!”
He moves us faster. “Try to keep up.” He sings the words, and I join in.
Our voices blend remarkably well as our steps fall in sync.
The fast pace is exhilarating. So exhilarating that everything does the opposite and goes in slow motion.
We catch eyes as the room disappears. There’s only him, commanding every last bit of my attention.
I fall silent as he continues. When he reaches the end of the song, he dips me back with flair.
He lifts me back up, and we freeze, locked in our embrace.
I half expect him to move away as if regretting getting swept up in the moment.
Instead, he leans closer. His eyes deepen with the same longing that’s buzzing through me.
My mind takes a snapshot of a myriad of details.
The low stubble running the line of his chiseled jaw, the faint scar in the center of his chin.
The tiny mole on the tip of his nose. The lock of hair falling over his forehead.
For so long I’ve dreamt of this moment. Will it measure up?
His warm breath tickles my cheek as my lips part.
My breath comes faster as his lips take mine.
Our mouths move together in a dance that puts the one we just did to shame.
A flame licks down to my toes. Losing myself in the splendor of him, I slide my hands around his neck and meld into him.
We might’ve done this countless times before.
And yet, the thrill of the newness rushes over me with the force of a speedboat.
He deepens the kiss with a hunger that I immediately match.
Never have I been kissed like this before.
He smells of fresh hair gel with a hint of mint and strawberries from our breakfast.
How can something so wrong feel so right?
The clearing of a throat breaks us apart.
Consuela’s in the doorway, wearing an uncomfortable expression. She speaks to Axel as she holds out a cellphone. “Sorry to bother you, but Zoe has been trying to reach you on your phone. When you didn’t answer, she called me.”
Axel blinks. “How’d she get your number?”
“She calls me sometimes and asks me to run errands for her,” Consuela explains.
Axel makes a face. “Really?”
She nods.
He glances at me and back at the phone.
I’m sick to my stomach and sick at heart. I was soaring high, and now I’m falling back down to lowly earth. Axel’s girlfriend is on the phone. That makes me the other woman—a floozy. Ew. How did I stoop so low so quickly?
“Thanks,” Axel says to Consuela and sucks in a resigned breath.
He goes over and takes the phone. “Hey,” he begins, raking a hand through his hair.
“Sorry, I missed your call. I’ve been practicing for the benefit and turned my phone on silent …
it’s going well … yeah, you heard about that?
” He glances at me again. “London’s helping out. ”
Fingers prick at the base of my skull. I can only imagine what Zoe must be saying on the other end.
Axel’s mouth tightens. “That’s not up to you to decide.” He raises his voice. “Zoe, calm down. You’re blowing this way out of proportion. I needed a drummer, and she’s filling in. She’s actually really good.” He leaves the room.
Talk about a backhanded compliment. He sounded surprised that I can play. I rub a hand over my forehead, wondering if I should leave. Consuela eyes me with sympathy. I grunt out a humorless laugh. “I know what you’re thinking.”
She tips her head. “Do you?”
Her matronly expression reminds me of my mom. For some reason, this irritates me even more.
“Yeah, that I’m an idiot.”
“Just be careful. You seem like a nice person. I’d hate for you to get hurt.” She glances over her shoulder and lowers her voice. “Zoe has her hooks in Axel pretty deep, and I don’t think she has any intention of letting go.”
I nod numbly. “I should go.” This whole thing was a mistake.
I shuffle out of the room and go into the kitchen to get my purse.
Tears burn my eyes, but I blink them back.
The joke’s on me. I never truly got Seth—Axel—out of my system.
Why does life have to be so dang complicated?
I don’t stand a chance against a woman like Zoe.
And when I flake out on performing at the benefit, Axel will hate me.
Furthermore, if he ever finds out who I am …
A shudder runs through me. It’s better to walk away now before things get even more complicated.
I go out the door and down the steps. Harmony will blow her cork when she realizes that I walked away from a story, but what other choice do I have?
The door flies open as Axel bounds out. “London, wait.” Desperation coats his voice.
I stop and turn around. “What?”
He steps up to me. “You can’t just leave.”
I jut out my chin. “Oh, yes, I can.” I level a glare. “You have a girlfriend.” Truth be known, I’m madder at myself than I am at him.
He swallows. “I know.”
I hurl out the words. “I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t go around kissing other people’s boyfriends.”
A ghost of a smile passes over his lips. “Good to know.” He rubs his arms and glances around. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go back inside and talk.”
“I don’t think so.” I have to be sensible here and put my head in charge.
“Please, just hear me out.”
Indecision pulls at me.
He gives me a puppy-dog look. “Please,” he says again. “You’re shivering.”
“Because it’s frigid out here.” People often mistake the South for being warm in the winter. Not true. The humidity makes the cold even more brutal.
He matches my tone. “That’s why we need to go inside.”
My shoulders sag. “Okay.”
I allow him to lead me back inside. The second the door’s closed, I whirl around to face him. “Talk,” I order.
“Okay, but first, let’s order a pizza.” He touches his stomach, throwing me a boyish grin. “I’m starving.”
My hands go into the air. “You’re impossible.”
“Once we get some food in our system, we’ll talk.”
Axel is the king of persistence, that’s for sure. I roll my eyes. “Fine.”