Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Hendrix · Now
Konstantine – Something Corporate
A lamp flickers and casts the live room in a golden glow.
Cole leans over the grand piano, the soft tinkle of keys echoing through the room.
He hasn’t said much since he found me here three hours ago.
He hasn’t said anything at all, really.
He hasn’t asked what promise I’m keeping, or how long I plan to stay. He just kicked off his Docs, unbuttoned the top two buttons of his crisp black shirt, and grabbed his Les Paul before sitting opposite me in silence.
We stayed like that for hours, until he moved onto the piano.
I hug my arms around myself, breathing in the lavender perfume lingering on my jumper as he plays the melody I started composing last night.
It sounds different on the piano. Less gritty, more heartfelt.
It sounds right.
It’s something I hadn’t considered in all this, incorporating his piano skills. Even though I was the one who told him he should use his classical training in his music all those years ago.
I prop my hummingbird in my lap, roll my shoulders, and tug the pick from my mouth.
Cole drops into the minor. I play a major.
He cocks his head, eyes never straying from the sheet music as a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Can’t just follow my lead, huh?”
My stomach flutters at his voice.
It’s deeper in the early hours of the morning, a little sleepy, a little raspy, a little too familiar.
I school my expression. “Technically, it’s my lead, since I wrote it.”
“Can’t argue there.” He chuckles, his fingers moving at a faster pace.
I pick up mine, trying to mirror him, but I lose it as he shifts into a higher octave, one I can’t possibly match. And he knows that.
I groan. “No fair. You have more range on a piano.”
“All’s fair in love and war, baby.”
Air lodges in my throat.
I drop the guitar onto my lap, grab my water, and drain the remnants in one while he plays on as if he didn’t just send my world on its axis with a single word.
“What do you think about dissonance here?” he asks, adding a major seventh where I’d written a minor. “Have it on the guitar, it would add grit, and give Saint a show-off moment, which he lives for.”
“I don’t see why not. It could work. We’d need to test it out, but I don’t have my electric here.”
Cole tuts, fingers lifting before he spins on the stool and straddles it to look at me. His fingers curl around the leather seat.
I force myself to watch him and not trace the jewellery wrapped around them.
“Have you looked around?” He smirks. “Pretty sure we have almost every guitar you could ever want in here.”
I nod. “Sure, but they’re your guys’ guitars.”
“And?” His face blanks as he searches mine. “I’ve played your Hummingbird no less than a hundred times in my life. You really think I’m gonna be offended if you pick up my 1954?”
I shrug, rolling the drawstring of my hoodie between my fingertips.
He stands and makes his way over the line of guitars on the far wall. He glances over them, one-by-one, before he picks up an ebony Les Paul.
My mouth drops open, as he waves it in the air.
“Is that…”
“Eric Clapton 1958 Les Paul Custom?” He wiggles his brows. “Absolutely it is.”
“How did—where did—” A whine escapes me.
“Being rich and famous really has its perks.”
“This was my dream guitar growing up.”
His eyes glint under the moonlight. “I remember.”
He plugs it into an amp and tests the strings before holding it out to me.
I push up on shaking knees.
Excitement, nostalgia, joy—all of it buzzes through my veins.
Goosebumps flicker to life when Cole’s fingers brush mine as I ease the guitar from him.
My gaze shoots up.
He's already staring down at me, his expression unreadable.
His breath skates across my face.
I lick my lips.
The air thickens between us.
I could just push up onto my tiptoes and claim him, the way he claimed me all those years ago. How easy would it be? How right.
Cole clears his throat.
He steps back, and the world blurs back into focus.
I rock on my heels as I catch my breath.
His eyes dip to the guitar in my hands.
“You’re really gonna let me play this?” I ask, testing the weight of it. “This guitar has to be worth tens of thousands of pounds.”
“I can afford it a few times over.” He huffs a laugh. “Go crazy. Play to your heart's content.”
“That’s a dangerous offer.” I strap the guitar over my shoulder, a smile splitting my lips. “I may never tire of playing this thing, and you’ll be stuck in here with me forever.”
His stare burns into me.
I follow the line of his throat when he swallows, heat stirring in my veins.
Then he turns back to the piano without a word, leaving me alone in the centre of the room with a long-lost dream sitting in my hands.
I scrub bleary eyes when the live room door swings open.
Axel stands in the frame, arms laden with brown paper bags that carry the distinct scent of heaven.
My stomach growls.
Loudly.
Cheeks flushing, I drop the pen from my hand and push up onto my knees to stretch out the kinks in my back.
“I come bearing food and refreshments.” Axel bounds into the space, flicking the big light on before facing me. “Rainbow said you were here and would need reminding to eat.”
“Rainbow?” Cole croaks.
Axel shakes his head wincing. “No, you’re right. I don’t like it either.”
I comb my fingers through my hair and tug at the tangles, scanning the room for a clock.
“What time is it?” I squint.
Cole checks his watch, face blanching. “Fuck! It’s seven.”
“Christ.” That means we’ve been at this for close to fifteen hours. No wonder my bones are shaky as I try to stand.
The room tilts sideways.
Axel rushes over and wraps an arm around my back to hold me steady.
“Shit.” I hiss through clenched teeth. “I’m knackered.”
Axel tucks me into his chest. “What time did you get here?”
“Like one.”
“This afternoon?”
I shake my head, blinking as muscles settle. “This morning.”
“And you haven’t eaten in that time?”
Cole groans as he stretches his arms over his head. “We’ve been a little preoccupied.”
Axel stares over the room.
Sheet music, empty mugs, water bottles, guitars, all litter the floor, telling the tale of two people who got lost in work without taking a break for air.
“I can see that,” Axel mutters. He hands off the bags to me and kisses my cheek. “Riley says hello and asks that you reply to your texts.”
I frown, watching him with narrowed eyes. “And when did you talk to Riles?”
“Rix.” He tuts, a cheeky grin tilting his lips. “She and I are the best of friends now. We talk all the time.”
Right.
Axel drops down to the floor next to Cole and picks through the sheet music. “You have been busy. These are looking good. Anything solid yet?”
I busy myself with unloading the bags as Cole fills him in.
Sure, we’ve got a lot done, but there’s nothing we can actually do with any of it yet. A few base melodies here and there, some chord progressions to layer on top, but no lyrics to turn any of them into real songs.
I pass a lamb bhuna over to Cole, assuming that’s still his order, before peeling the lid on a chicken tikka masala.
I breathe it in, salivating at the glorious scent. “Thank you, Ax. You are an angel.”
“Anytime.” He looks between Cole and me. “Reckon we’ll be recording ready any time soon?”
I sink my fork into the Tupperware and hike a thumb over my shoulder toward Cole. “Depends on your singer over there. He’s the lyricist.”
Cole scoffs. “If I remember correctly, you wrote almost all the lyrics for our first two albums. I just gave you the ideas.”
“That’s a big fat lie, dude.” I snort. “I still have all your old notebooks if you want me to whip them out for proof.”
Cole turns to me. “You kept them?”
I swallow.
A muscle in his jaw jumps as he watches me.
“I… yeah.” I nod, chewing my lip. “It—um. It just…didn’t feel right to throw it all away.”
His tongue sweeps out, brushing his lip, as a slight crease forms on the corner of his eye. “Right.”
I tug my tongue stud as he watches me.
“Huh.”
Cole jerks at Axel’s voice.
I duck my head.
Axel makes a noise under his breath, a soft hum of sorts.
Eyes linger on me, but I don’t look up.
Heat crawls over my cheeks, my throat drying. My fingers tremble as I push my fork around the dish—my appetite for food diminished and replaced with something else. Something I won’t let myself acknowledge.
“Well, this is interesting,” Axel says. He shuffles through the papers, a half smirk on his lips as I peek at him through the shield of my hair. He waves a page in front of me. “Really interesting how you’ve added dissonance here.”
A breath of relief coasts past my lips. “Yeah. It really works.”
Cole grunts, non-committal.
I don’t look his way.
“So, recording time, soon, yes?” Axel presses, eyes soft and pleading as he flicks them between us.
I huff a sleepy laugh. “I’ll get you in the booth soon. Promise.”
A beaming grin lights his face. “Holding you to that, Rix.”