Chapter 13 Keeley
Keeley
I didn’t think this through. When we get to the hotel room, I’m alarmed by just how intimate the whole thing is.
It’s a stunning space, with shining plank floors and neutral walls and rustic-chic wooden fixtures.
Afternoon sunlight shines through large windows that overlook the mountains and pastures.
An electric fireplace with stone accents sits under the TV in the first room, with a large white couch and oversized chair facing it.
We set down our bags and head into the bedroom, where there’s even more windows, and a soft green quilt folded over a plush white comforter on that all-too-cozy king-sized bed.
A bottle of champagne and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries sit on the vanity. I walk over to check it out. Over in the nearest corner, I shit you not, there’s a jetted tub. Did Riker book us the fucking honeymoon suite or something?
We both stare at it for a moment, taking in the reality of our accommodations for the next four days. I clear my throat.
“I can, uh, crash on the couch,” I say quickly.
Jane’s ears go pink. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can share. It’s not a big deal.”
Isn’t it? I want to scream, but I’m not about to argue with her. Sleeping on couches inevitably leaves my back sore and my legs cramped, and my tall body is less forgiving as I near thirty.
“Okay,” I say, and other than that, I’m at a loss for words. Usually, I can’t shut up, even when I wish I could, but staring at her looking so beautiful, in nothing fancier than the loose jeans and oversized cardigan she traveled in, leaves me tongue-tied.
So how the hell am I supposed to survive sharing a soft, inviting bed with her for four days? It wouldn’t be easy to lay inches away from her even if we hadn’t almost kissed in my kitchen a few weeks ago. When I held her hand in the car, it was like I couldn’t help myself. I needed to touch her.
I feel like I’m on the edge of losing my self-control.
All my reasons to keep my distance feel flimsy, and I just don’t care about them anymore.
I want her so much that I can hardly breathe.
And if any of the glances we’ve shared are as loaded as they’ve felt, I’m starting to hope she just might feel the same way.
But what if I’m wrong? I’m terrified to find out. Time for a distraction.
“So, uh, do we want to check out the amenities?” I hand Jane one of the activity menus sitting on the vanity and grab one for myself as I perch on the foot of the bed.
Jane leans against the wall, and her face pales as she reads. “I thought you were kidding about the horseback riding.”
I laugh. “What do you think the herd of horses is out there for?”
“The aesthetic?” she squeaks. “I don’t know! Horses are scary!”
Her expression tightens, and I’m desperate to reassure her.
“Hey, we don’t have to go.” I drop my menu on the bed and bring a hand to the back of my neck.
“There are a lot of other great things to do here. We can hike, or check out the heated indoor pool, or book a day at the spa, or ooh, there’s even a day trip to visit the hot springs if we want to make a day of it? ”
“I don’t know. Honestly, I was looking forward to relaxing, so I don’t want to do a bunch of traveling while we’re here. But…” She trails off, biting her lip. “Maybe I could be persuaded to try some horseback riding. As long as they can get me a really gentle horse.”
“I’ll ask,” I say, and I mean it.
“I, uh, have been noodling on some music. Do you want to hear it?” she says, almost shyly.
I’ve listened to so many of Jane’s compositions that the tentativeness in her voice is new, but I understand.
We didn’t do much of the Glitter Bats writing.
That was all Caleb and Valerie, and occasionally Riker on certain songs.
I maybe wrote a lyric or two, but I left most of the songwriting to them.
It’s cool to have the opportunity to contribute to the band in a way we haven’t before. Still, the stakes feel impossibly high when we don’t know what’s going on with our masters. She must feel vulnerable, but I have no doubt that whatever she has is going to be brilliant.
I grin. “That sounds great. You can use my guitar.”
“Perfect,” she says. She heads over to my acoustic case and pulls out the shiny Martin I brought on the trip. I know I don’t play guitar for Glitter Bats, but a guitar is the most portable instrument for writing on the go, and in my defense, we were supposed to write.
Even if bringing the damn thing was a pain in the ass.
Jane bites her lip as she starts to play through the progression, humming a melody. “I like what I have so far, but I haven’t landed on any lyrics yet.”
I nearly scream with excitement as I listen, because I have some lines on my phone that I think might be perfect.
Even if I wrote them in the middle of the night after she left my apartment and sharing them is…
scary. But now that I’ve imagined them fitting on top of what she’s written, I can’t help it.
“Can I try to sing something over it?” I ask, gesturing at my phone.
“Of course,” she says.
I pull up my lyrics document and start to sing, trying to hold on to my composure, even as my voice shakes.
Oh, you fill my head with possibilities
Oh, when you smile I forget how to breathe
I shrug, my cheeks warming. “That’s all I’ve got.”
Jane grins, her hand pausing on the strings. “That’s something. Did you just come up with it?”
“Uh, it’s been in my Notes app awhile.” Awhile being open to interpretation.
“Oh!” She gapes, her eyes lighting up. “I, uh, think I have an idea. May I?” She gestures for my phone.
I hand it to her, ignoring the thrill of her fingers brushing mine as she takes it, pretending the sensation dancing across my skin is just in my head. She furrows her brow, typing furiously before handing the phone back.
My mouth goes dry, but when Jane plays back through the chorus, I sing the full thing:
Oh, you fill my head with possibilities
Oh, your hand in mine makes me want to believe
Oh, when you smile I forget how to breathe
Oh, if you say yes I’ll give you everything
As the final chords reverberate through the hotel room, you could cut the tension with a knife.
Jane grins at me. “Keeley, I think we’ve got something.”
My breath catches at that, but I somehow manage to speak. “I think you’re right.”
Again, I’m not sure either of us is talking about the song. But then she blinks as her phone starts buzzing. She stares at the screen, confusion muddling her features.
“Oh! It’s my agent. I’m so sorry—I know we’re writing, but can I take this?”
I laugh. “Not much of a retreat anymore. Have at it, Mercer.”
She flashes me a grateful look and steps out into the hall. I feel bad, like maybe I made her think she can’t take the call in here, but I know it’s just Jane being as conscientious as ever. She doesn’t like to be a bother to anyone.
I’d let her bother me any day.
God, Keeley, get a grip.
I stare out the window at the valley. The sky is turning orange with an impending sunset on the horizon, and as much as I’d like to plan one of the guided adventures for the rest of the afternoon, I think our best bet is to just keep writing.
Jane hates to have plans change last minute, and this shift from band retreat to one-on-one is definitely not what she signed up for.
The closest we can get to sticking to the plan, the better.
First, I call down to the restaurant and get us dinner reservations for tonight. Then, I change into jeans and am just shrugging into a sweater when the door opens.
“Oh! Sorry!” Jane squeaks. I hurriedly tug the sweater over my bra and peek my head out, where Jane is staring at me from the door of our room. She hastens to shut it.
I laugh nervously. “It’s fine. I should have changed in the bathroom.”
“No, you don’t have to. I don’t mind seeing you change.” Her eyes widen. “I mean…you can do whatever you’re comfortable with! A body is just a body, right? I’m all for breaking down the stigma. Free the nipple!”
I bark out a laugh, because really? “Are you done?”
“Sorry, I babble when I’m nervous.”
I swallow, stepping over to her where she’s frozen, standing against the entry. Resting an arm above her head, I lean over her and lower my voice. “What’s making you nervous, Mercer?”
She blinks rapidly, shaking her head, then meets my gaze with a disbelieving smile. “I just found out I…somehow…got nominated for a RECORD award for Into the Dragon Realm? I didn’t even realize the first episode was out before the deadline!”
I stand back and gape at her, joy and pride flooding my chest. “Oh my god, you did? Mercer, that’s fucking incredible!”
Before I can stop myself, I sweep her into a hug. She sinks into me, warm and soft and perfect, and I resist the urge to bury my nose in her curls as I squeeze her tight. That familiar vanilla scent envelops me.
I wish I didn’t have to let go.
She pulls away, and I try to ignore the way her phantom touch lingers on my skin.
“Thank you,” she says. “The awards were announced an hour ago, and I didn’t even think to check. Lacey was stuck in a meeting and just got a chance to call me. I still can’t believe it.”
“I can. You’re amazing, Jane Mercer. We should absolutely crack that champagne before dinner.
I hope it’s okay I got us a reservation?
” She just gapes at me, so I continue. “We don’t have to head down for another half hour or so, but I figured we could eat early and then not have to leave for the rest of the night.
We can always bring dessert back and watch some TV or something if we don’t want to keep writing. ” Now I’m the one babbling.
Jane brings her hands to her heart. “That sounds perfect, thank you.” She lets out a breath. “Sorry, I’m still processing the news.”
“Of course you are!” I proclaim, as if we’re not the only two people in the room. I hurry over to grab the bottle and glasses, then pop the cork over the bathroom sink. Jane follows me, and she pours a generous amount in each glass.
It’s hard not to stare at her like this. She’s proud of herself, as she should be, and it makes her glow like a ray of sunshine. She worked incredibly hard to make this happen. I always knew she was a superstar.
Now the world is finally noticing.
“Cheers, Mercer,” I say. “You fucking earned it, and I’m so proud of you.” Beaming, she clinks her glass against mine, then takes a long sip. I follow her lead. The champagne is dry and fizzy, just how I like it, and I head back into the living room and settle back on one of the couches.
“Do you mind?” Jane asks, gesturing at her phone.
“Not at all,” I say, and I mean it. Of course she should respond to what I can only imagine are hundreds of notifications.
The Into the Dragon Realm soundtrack has been critically acclaimed for a reason, because it’s fresh and unique and inspiring.
Getting nominated for a RECORD is the height of achievement in this industry.
But Jane Mercer is the real deal. I have no doubt in my mind this will be one of many accolades for her hard work and dedication to her craft.
Even as we sip more celebratory champagne, my stomach twists as I think about our argument in the studio, despite the magic of our writing session just minutes ago.
The more work she does in the TV space, the more—very well-deserved—recognition she’s going to get, and then where will that leave us?
She certainly shouldn’t fuck around with Glitter Bats when the other path will bring her statuettes and fancy parties and name recognition.
I was terrified she was leaving the band, but now I’m scared if she doesn’t, we’ll hold her back.
Jane deserves the world, and I don’t want to be the reason she doesn’t get it.
Maybe if I can stop being so wounded about keeping her in the band, it’ll give her the freedom to make the right choice for her.
Even if that choice means leaving us behind.
It’s not too late—we can reassess whether we want to keep making music.
I’ve loved this girl from afar practically since the moment I met her, and even if I got my feelings hurt back in that studio, that doesn’t mean I want to hold her back.
Of course I want what’s best for her. I won’t stop her from following her dreams, even if they take her away from us.
So tonight, I’ll just celebrate with her and help her relax and let her enjoy the hell out of this moment.
She’s worth it.