Chapter 14
Alexis
There’s a live band tonight, and I’m excited. I’ve always loved live music.
I’m polishing glasses as the bar slowly fills. Snow is still falling outside, thick and steady, but that doesn’t seem to stop anyone from coming out tonight. Not that I mind. I actually enjoy working more when the place is busy. It keeps my mind occupied.
Stephen walks in from the back hallway, snow melting in his hair. “Band’s not coming. Road’s closed halfway up the pass.”
A ripple of disappointment moves through the bar.
Dex swears under his breath.
“We’ve got a full house,” Stephen adds.
Dex’s eyes move across the room once, then land on me.
“No,” I say immediately.
“You’re singing.”
I shake my head, already stepping back. “No.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.”
“I said no.”
“Tinker.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
He steps closer, closing the space between us until I have no choice but to look up at him, his presence steady, unyielding, like he’s already decided how this is going to go.
“You’re too good to stay hidden and wait for perfection,” he says, his voice calm, but there’s something under it, something firm enough that it makes my chest tighten.
“I’ll mess it up,” I whisper, hating how small it sounds.
“No, you won’t.” He holds my gaze, not letting me look away. “You either get on that stage, or I start wondering why I hired someone who doesn’t finish what she starts.”
That hits harder than it should.
Not because it’s cruel.
Because part of me knows he doesn’t actually believe it.
Because the way he’s looking at me doesn’t match the words.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
The whole bar is waiting.
And he doesn’t move. Doesn’t look away. Doesn’t give me an out.
Before I can talk myself out of it…
“Fine.”
“Good,” he says, like he knew I would.
I walk up, pick up the guitar, and adjust the mic, my fingers not as steady as I want them to be as I position it just right. I avoid looking at the crowd, avoid looking at him, and instead close my eyes, letting the first note settle in the air before I follow it.
At first, it feels like I’m standing outside my own body, like I’m watching myself from somewhere far away, waiting for the moment everything falls apart.
But it doesn’t. The music carries me, soft at first, then stronger, wrapping around me until my voice finds it, until the sound fills the space where my fear used to be.
I start with familiar songs, safe ones, country covers I know by heart, then shift into something heavier, rock ballads that pull a reaction from the crowd, voices joining in, claps echoing through the bar, the energy building until I can feel it in my chest, steadying me, grounding me in a way I didn’t expect.
And somewhere in the middle of it, without really deciding to, I let myself fall into it.
Into the music.
Into the moment.
Into being seen .
By the time I reach the last song, my fingers don’t hesitate when they find the chords, my voice doesn’t shake when I start.
Creep .
I don’t know why this one. I don’t know why now. All I know is it feels like the only thing that fits.
The room quiets as I sing, the noise fading until it’s just me and the sound of it, the words settling heavier with every line, like they’re pulling something out of me I didn’t realize was still there.
When the last note fades, silence stretches across the bar, thick and almost fragile, like no one wants to break it.
I open my eyes.
And I find him.
Dex is standing at the bar, not moving, not looking away, his gaze locked on mine like he’s seeing something he didn’t expect to find.
For a second, it feels like it’s just the two of us in the room.
Then the moment breaks as Dex turns around and walks into his office.
The crowd erupts, loud cheers and claps crashing over me, pulling me back into the noise, into the reality of where I am, and something inside me lifts with it, something warm and unfamiliar spreading through my chest as I finally look around.
I feel… alive.
Seen.
Valued.
And I blink back tears before they can fall.
Later, after the music, after the applause fades and the noise settles back into something normal, the adrenaline doesn’t leave with it. It stays, sharp and electric under my skin, buzzing through my veins like I don’t know what to do with it.
People clap me on the back as I step off the stage, a few voices calling out compliments I barely register, everything still moving too fast, too loud, my pulse refusing to slow.
I scan the bar without meaning to.
Looking for him.
Did he not like it?
The spot where he was standing is empty.
No nod. No look. No “you did good.” Nothing.
Just gone.
Something hot and furious sparks in my chest, cutting straight through the leftover adrenaline, turning it into something sharper, something that pushes me forward before I can think better of it.
Of course.
Of course he would do that.
Push me up there like I’m some kind of project and then disappear the second I’m done, like it meant nothing, like I meant nothing.
Why do you care so much, Lexy?
I push the thought away.
My jaw tightens as I turn on my heel and head straight for the hallway, my steps quick and heavy, the energy still burning through me with nowhere else to go.
I don’t knock.
I shove the door open.
“You pushed me up there and then you disappear when I’m done!”
Dex is leaning back against his desk like he’s got nowhere better to be, one ankle crossed lazily over the other, like he’s been expecting me.
Like he’s been waiting.
He doesn’t even look surprised.
If anything, there’s the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.
“You wanted me to compliment you?” he asks, voice calm, almost amused.
That smirk.
That stupid, infuriating smirk.
“Want me to tell you how talented you are and how your music is magic, that it captures its audience and doesn’t let go? Is that what you want from me?”
Something in me snaps.
“I hate you!”
The words tear out of my throat before I can stop them, my chest rising and falling too fast, lungs burning like I ran all the way here instead of storming down the hallway on pure fury.
Dex doesn’t react.
Not at first.
Then his green eyes lift to mine.
And slowly, deliberately, they drop to my mouth.
My breath catches.
He pushes off his desk, slow, measured, dangerous in a way that makes something low in my stomach tighten as he starts toward me.
I take a step back.
Big mistake.
My shoulders hit the door with a dull thud.
Nowhere left to go.
His gaze never leaves mine as he closes the distance, not once, not even when he’s close enough that I can see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, close enough that I can see the darker ring around the green of his eyes, close enough that my breath stutters and forgets how to come out properly.
His chest brushes mine, warm and solid and far too close, and my body freezes, caught somewhere between the urge to shove him away and the pull drawing me toward him instead.
His hand lifts slowly, giving me time to stop him.
I don’t.
His fingers slide beneath my chin and tilt my face upward, and my knees weaken instantly in a way that’s both infuriating and completely out of my control.
It’s ridiculous.
Completely unacceptable.
And completely unavoidable.
Up this close, he smells like sage and cedarwood and cigarette smoke, dark and warm and unmistakably him, the scent wrapping around me before I can stop it, sinking in deeper than it should, settling somewhere I don’t want it to.
His thumb brushes my lower lip once, slow and deliberate.
I gasp before I can stop it.
His eyes soften just slightly at the sound, knowing, like he expected it, like he felt it too.
His thumb lingers a second longer than it should.
Then he leans in.
Closer.
Until his mouth is right beside my ear.
His voice drops low, rough, quiet enough that I feel it more than hear it.
“No… you don’t.”
Goosebumps explode across my arms.
Heat rushes through me so fast it makes my head spin.
I should push him away.
I should say something.
I should do anything except stand here like my entire body just betrayed me.
But I don’t move.
I can’t.
Every nerve feels awake.
Every breath feels louder.
Every inch of space between us feels like it’s burning.
Then…
Click .
The sound snaps through the moment like a breaking thread.
I blink.
Dex steps back.
Just like that.
Space floods in between us again, cool and empty and wrong.
It takes me a second to understand what happened.
He opened the door.
He’s standing beside it now, one hand still resting casually against the handle like nothing just happened. Like he didn’t just tilt my entire world sideways in the span of five seconds.
Like he didn’t just prove exactly how dangerous he is.
And exactly how weak I am around him.
“Bastard,” I mutter, turning away before he can see what’s still written all over my face.
His quiet chuckle follows me.
Low.
Unbothered.
“I’ve been called worse.”
Of course he has.
Of course he sounds like he almost enjoyed this.
I force my breathing to slow as I step past him, but the scent of him lingers in the air behind me, and it follows me down the hallway like something I can’t quite shake.
And the worst part?
I’m not sure I want to.