14. When the Muse Speaks
NICKY
At some point, Ian untangled himself from me. I protested sleepily, but I heard Charlotte’s leash jingle and I rolled over to burrow back into the covers.
There were brief flashes of awareness as the sun came up through those massive balcony doors, but then Ian settled onto the bed behind me, scooping me up and spooning me against him. He was cold and warm at the same time. I tried to mutter a protest or a welcome, but sleep wouldn’t let go of me.
The clock on the nightstand said it was 9:00 a.m. when I woke. My back was pressed to Ian’s chest, his arm around my waist and his knees behind mine. His breathing was still and slow.
Ian was asleep.
What a strange thing to feel proud of, I thought as I eased out from under his arm. Charlotte raised her head from her boot when I stood.
“Want to go out?” I whispered to her. “Need a morning pee, Charlotte?”
But the baby was still sleepy too. She thumped back down and closed her eyes with a happy sigh. All right. I’d take her out once I was ready to face the world. I retrieved my tote bag and headed for the bathroom.
Showered, dried, dressed, and presentable, I tiptoed through the bedroom to retrieve the dog and get back to my own floor before Archer realized I was coming out of some other man’s hotel room. Charlotte was still flat-out, as was Ian—one curled up on a boot, the other curled up around a pillow. I eased onto the sofa to tie my sneakers. Then I saw the pad on the coffee table.
It hadn’t been there the night before. I leaned forward to peer at it. It wasn’t like regular lined paper. It was preprinted with the multiple lines of a music score. There were dark, angular marks on it that matched the felt-tip lying nearby.
“That’s not ready to be seen yet.”
I looked up, startled, when Ian’s voice broke my concentration. His eyes were open, and he was watching me over his pillow.
“I don’t read music anyway,” I said, ashamed to have been caught invading his privacy. “I’m sorry to be snooping.”
He rolled his shoulders without moving. “’S’okay. It’s just not done yet.” Half his mouth lifted in a slow smile. “Might be pretty good, though. I’m not sure yet.”
“When did you do this?” I tossed the pad back on the table, only then realizing that I was sitting next to his guitar, which I was sure had been in its case when we went to sleep.
“Mm.” He thought about it, his body still languid and sleepy below the blankets. “Couple hours ago. Charlotte woke me up, and I had a song in my head. Which is incredible, if you didn’t know.”
The puppy heard her name. She suddenly sat up, blinking. Before I could stop her, she got to her feet, jumped without apology onto the bed, turned in a circle twice, and then settled on the bed at Ian’s back, her head on his hip.
“Charlotte!” I stood to stop her. “No, baby, you come with me. It’s time for a walk.”
Charlotte demonstrated how good she was at doing the opposite of “you come with me.” She refused to move. Ian’s hand came down on her dome skull, and she closed her eyes in bliss as he stroked her.
“She can stay. We had a walk a few hours ago. She peed, I wrote a song, in all, a very successful sunrise.”
His air of contentment made me smile. I sat to tie the other sneaker. “Do you often wake up with songs in your head?” I asked.
“Well, not lately. This was the first one in about a year. Seems to be one of the casualties of insomnia, so I guess I should thank you for that song.”
That made me proud. “You can dedicate it to me. What’s it about?”
“Not done yet.” His sleepy voice got quite firm. “Where are you off to so early?”
“I wanted to see if my adviser emailed me back, and then I thought I’d take advantage and get to the stadium early enough to beat Bianca. I’ve got an inventory system I’m working on, and I want to explain it to her if there’s ever enough time.”
“She give you grief?”
“Yeah.” I relaxed against the sofa. “And I’m not sure why. But I’m going to find out.”
“Tell me if we can help. Aftermath owes you.” He scrubbed at his fuzzed scalp with a smile.
“You feeling okay about that?” I asked.
“My hair? Well . . . yeah. I mean, I am now. Guess I won’t really know how I feel until the gig tonight. It helps that no one looked twice at that rehearsal yesterday. Could be I was maybe making too much of the scar?”
“You think?” I said neutrally.
He huffed a laugh and threw a pillow at me. Charlotte barked without lifting her wrinkled, ancient puppy face from his hip.
“That’s enough out of you, Miss I Know All The Answers.” His head flopped down on his pillow as bonelessly as Charlotte.
“I wish.” I sighed. “But I do think you guys will look good. Shit, I’ve got to taper your shirt!”
“Thank you. But what about that wardrobe mistress? What’s her name? Lady of the Orange Hair Dye?”
“Nadia.” I liked her new nickname, though. “I don’t want to bug them any more. They have to be getting Sheree’s thousands of performers ready. It won’t take me long. I’ll have it for you before the show.”
“Then we’ll owe you again. You really have been a very fortunate addition to our group, Nicky. Thank you.”
“You’re so kind and generous when you’re well-rested.” I tried to sound serious, but perhaps the amusement came through my voice.
“Cool.” He was not baited by my teasing. “I think I’m going to go back to sleep. Wouldn’t that be awesome?” He stretched, feet pushing out the covers at the end of the bed.
“It would be awesome, and you should. Come on, dog. Let’s let Ian sleep.”
She blinked at me, and his hand stayed where it was on her skull. “She can stay.”
“No, you’ve got shit to do. And sleep. You’ve got sleep to sleep.”
“We’re good. She’s an Aftermath dog. We ought to start taking care of her, you know?”
I frowned. “What’s going to happen to Charlotte when the tour is over? Where will she live?”
He stroked her long, silky ear. “Mal and Archer share a rental apartment. I don’t imagine they’re allowed to have livestock this big. She can live with me. I have a little house with a yard.”
“You have a house?”
He shrugged with his nose. “Master electrician. We do okay.”
“I don’t doubt it. Well, I’ll find her at the stadium before your sound check.”
“Nope.” His jaw was set. “You get the doggy day off. We’ll figure it out. She can stay with us. I’ve got her boot. What more does she need?”
I sighed and retrieved the bag of puppy food from my tote. Just in case he was too sleepy to remember, I wrote the directions on a sheet of music paper and tucked it into the baggie. “Don’t forget water. And she’ll need a walk every four or five hours, even if she doesn’t ask for one. There are poop bags in the little canister on her leash.”
“Go away, Nicky. We’ll figure it out. We’re fine.”
I smiled. Just a few days, and already Charlotte felt like my dog. But he was right—they would figure it out together. “If I don’t see you sooner,” I said as I went to the door, “I hope you have a great concert.”
He rose on one elbow far enough to look back over his shoulder at me. “If we do, it will be thanks to you, Nicky. You’re—I—thank you.”
The sense of warm connection was so strong that I was suddenly uncomfortable. Intimacy . . . with Ian? He was the wrong guy. Wasn’t he?
“Sleep well,” I said, and ducked out of the room.
The door thunked closed behind me, and I surveyed the long hallway. Empty. No one wondering what I was doing coming out of Ian’s room. Good.
I waited for the elevator, glad that nothing had gone wrong. The doors opened.
Archer stepped out.
My heart threatened to explode at the sudden infusion of adrenaline into my system. No! I shrieked internally. I didn’t just spend the night cuddled up to your guitarist! I am the girl of your dreams! Love me! Don’t ask me what I’m doing up here on the seventh floor when I clearly belong with the rest of the little people in the bowels of the hotel!
“Sweetheart!” he cried. He stepped out of the elevator and slipped an arm around my waist. “What are you doing up here?”
He kissed my cheek as if we exchanged this sort of greeting every morning. While I fumbled for an answer, he hummed the chorus to “Oriza Eh” and danced me a few steps across the elevator lobby.
“Oh!” I said (because I was always sophisticated and blasé about things like this). My hands came up to curve along his biceps, and not just from desire. His footwork was a bit more than I was capable of without a few months of rehearsal, and I had to hold on as we twisted and danced. He spun me out to the length of our arms and then flicked me back in. I came spinning and laughing into his arms as if we were made to be together.
“Perfect!” He laughed and hugged me. “What’s going on?” He stood back, and I had to either hang on like he was exercise equipment or let my hands fall regretfully to my sides. “Isn’t it a gorgeous day?”
“Absolutely beautiful,” I agreed without any hesitation. He read that I wasn’t looking at any windows, and he preened. He gestured down his body like a game-show hostess displaying the grand prize.
“All white, as you insisted,” he said. “Does it look okay?”
He was wearing some of the clothes we’d picked up the day before. A white V-neck sweater in a cotton knit so supple, I could see the definition of his abs. White shorts stylishly frayed along the hem above his handsome knees. White boat shoes, scuffed and casual. He would have looked perfect for sunset cocktails at the yacht club.
“Looks okay,” I said, my mouth drying at the sight.
“And the new bronzer. Did I use too much? Queenie says the eyes are the weak spot. Does it look right?”
He leaned in, inviting my up-close scrutiny. “Looks perfect.”
He stepped back, happy. “She’s going to whiten my teeth this morning. Don’t you love her? What are you doing on this floor, sweetness?”
Until that point, I really hadn’t had to participate in the conversation, and if I’d been smart, I would have formulated an answer to that question. Naturally, I hadn’t.
“Um,” I said, hoping something good would come out of my mouth when I opened it. “Ian is going to take Charlotte for the day.”
Shit. Something good did come out of my mouth!
“That’s excellent! A great idea! Shall I go check on them?” He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. Of course he knew where his best friend’s room was. It would not be good to find Ian still sound asleep in a bed that had clearly held two people all night.
“Maybe better not? He said he was working on a song . . .?”
“No shit? That’s good fucking news! He used to write the best music. Damn, I hope he really is. Okay, I’ll make sure he’s not disturbed. This really is an insanely good day!” We were dancing again. “Want to come with me while I change for Queenie?” Come with him? I never wanted to leave him. But he contradicted himself before I could gasp my willing reply. “No, maybe better not. My room’s kind of—how about I find you later?” That beautiful man leaned down and kissed my neck where it turned into shoulder, sending shivers rippling across my skin and into my soul. Then he grinned at me. “See you soon, beautiful!”
He withdrew his arms, leaving me feeling chilled and adrift. He looked back at me laughing as he made a big deal of tiptoeing past Ian’s room, and I laughed like a silly fool.
It took me a good three minutes to remember that I needed to push the button to get the elevator back.
Selene and Judy were going to be slayed by this experience. Damn, I thought. I should have gotten a photo of Archer looking so gorgeous.