Bree #2
There’s a sort of Benny-Bree magic that happens when we write music together.
It happened when we wrote the words to the song, and it’s happening again now as we formulate the music.
The only other time I’ve experienced this was when we were teens writing together, and I haven’t shared this kind of alchemy with anyone since.
I don’t sing anything I don’t connect with, but I haven’t written with another person like this ever.
Ideas and thoughts and sound rapidly bounce between us, and my mind feels caught up in a musical, glowy haze.
Time doesn’t exist in this bubble. It’s only music and rolling hills and cows and my weightless, swinging legs, and the occasional whiff of Benny’s cologne.
I’m drunk on music and the warm sunlight. Despite how much I can’t stand Jaida, I love this song immensely. It’s taking shape into something beautiful.
It’s a shame it has to be about her.
“Why are you frowning?”
Benny’s question pulls me from my thoughts.
I was picturing her the last time we were in the same room together and the way she’d lied to me, how much of a fool I’d allowed myself to be.
I shake my head softly. “It doesn’t matter.
You mentioned you’re willing to produce the song.
Does that mean you know of a studio nearby?
I don’t know how we’ll keep things under wraps once we book a space. ”
“Won’t your label need to be part of that decision? Or do you plan on handing them a completed song and hoping they accept it?”
I bite my lip. “So, my contract is up.”
“Seriously?”
“The new single fulfilled my final requirement, and we’re done. I’m a free agent now.”
“Bree, that’s amazing.” His face brightens, and he’s truly happy for me, adding to the glowy feeling in my chest.
“Do you have a place we can record?”
“Yeah, I know the perfect place, and we can probably get in and do it all ourselves after hours.”
“You really do know a guy.”
“I have a buddy in Sebastopol with a studio. I’ll talk to him and see what I can do.”
I nod, closing my eyes and tipping my head back to face the sun.
Is it possible to cancel the song and stay in this moment forever?
Never leave Bodega Bay at all? Benny hasn’t left my side.
His grandma is still on my team. Maybe they’ve lost respect for me, I don’t know—they’re definitely disappointed in some of my choices, and that’s a shame I have to live with.
But I’m starting to believe this little world could absorb me, that I could stay, that they could shuffle their things aside and make room for me.
Even as I think those things, reality hammers down in quick succession. Colby needs his house back. Benny has a life outside of squiring me around the beach and the countryside. Mrs. Rhodes can’t take care of me forever. What’s nice right now isn’t sustainable in the long term.
There’s a soft clink as Benny sets his guitar on the truck bed behind us. I blink, watching a rusty red truck drive down a dirt road and meet up with the lane we’re parked on. The farmer lifts a hand to wave as he passes, and we both wave back.
My body yearns to be part of this world. I’m desperate for it. I’d give up all my Tiffany earrings and Louboutin heels to stay here anonymously, forever.
“I think we have a song, Bodega Bree.”
I laugh. “Now I need to figure out the best way to put it out.”
“We can worry about that later. For now, we need to get it recorded. Work on the vocals until they feel right to you.”
“I’m there, I think.”
“Of course you are.” He smiles down at me easily, his lips curving effortlessly, his blue eyes searching my face. “You always had the most flawless tone.”
“Too bad my reputation kept labels from wanting me in the beginning. There’s a theme here, you know.”
“It’s not you, though. You do recognize that, right? It’s the way you were brought up and the Belacourt name and all it entails.” He’s speaking so earnestly I want to believe him, but I know the truth.
I did write that diss track, after all.
Shaking my head, I look at the grass growing beneath the truck. Benny’s knuckle gently pushes under my chin, guiding it up until I’m looking at him. “You’re a good person.”
His words hit me in the gut. I’m so caught off guard, my breath catches.
“You are. I don’t know who made you believe otherwise, but I’ve known you for a long time.
Maybe I haven’t seen you in years, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know you, Bree.
You always look out for others, and you care about important causes.
I know what you did for women’s shelters in New York, and I saw that segment about you spreading that fundraising to five other states on the East Coast.”
“You watched a segment, Benny. It was a publicity stunt.”
“Your mom made it into one, maybe, but that’s not why you did it,” he says, seeing me. His knuckles brush my jaw and glide over my neck. They get tangled in the blonde hair at my shoulder. “This wig is ridiculous.”
“I’m committed to it.”
“I know. But I like you better when you’re all natural.”
His thumb strokes a pattern over my jawline and down my throat. It’s becoming difficult to breathe. His eyes match the sky above us, and I’m getting trapped in them. All I can smell is his cologne and the fresh air coming in from the ocean and the grass and earth around us.
I want nothing else but for his arms to close around me, to pull me in and tell me everything will work out. Which is probably why I sway toward him.
His eyes darken, his pupils widening despite the daylight surrounding us, and I know immediately he wants to kiss me as much as I want him to.
We surrender at the same moment.
Benny leans forward, dipping his head until his lips brush mine, our breath mingling together.
His hand cups my jaw while the other slides to my waist. I want to feel every part of him, but mostly, I want his lips to quit tantalizing me, hovering so close, brushing softly and sending every nerve ending in my body to the incinerator.
A phone buzzes harshly on the tailgate, making us jump.
Our foreheads knock together before we leap apart, cool air rushing in the space where he was only moments ago.
It’s like having a taste of the most incredible drink of ice-cold water on a sufferingly hot day, only to have someone smack the cup right out of my hand.
I watch the proverbial water spread on hot concrete and turn into steam as Benny runs a frustrated hand over his face and picks up his phone.
Colby. Again.
“What is this, the tenth time he’s called?” I joke, but my body is seared where he was touching me, and I’m having a hard time thinking of anything else or not being resentful. What could possibly matter so much that Colby needs to call this much? Unless…it does matter. “Could it be important?”
Concern flashes in Benny’s eyes. “Maybe.” He slides the phone on and puts it to his ear. “What’s up?”
His worry only grows the longer he listens to his cousin.
He watches me, then drags his attention to the ground.
“What did she say? Right. Okay. Thanks for the heads up. Bye.” Benny ends the call and puts the phone down.
He rubs his eyes and looks at me. “So, Colby’s been online.
He saw something he thought you might want to know. ”
It would be an understatement to admit that panic is beginning to be my constant companion. “Just spit it out, because the suspense is killing me.”
Benny doesn’t crack a smile. “Your sister is engaged.”