Chapter 19 Milton
Milton
Liam had sent over an audio recording of Danny playing guitar for a track they were working on, asking if I could play around with it and see what I could come up with before we brought it to the studio.
Our label hadn’t asked for anything new yet since we were still finishing up with our tour for our last album, but those two never stopped creating.
I listened to it two times through to get a sense of the melody, then started testing out some beats to match it. Once I had a few different rhythms worked out, I sent them back to Liam for his opinion.
He liked the second recording but wanted to change a few of the loops and add in some more snare. He also sent over some audio with rough vocals, which helped me get a clearer image of when to create harder beats for a more precise, sharp sound and when to feather it out for softer vocals.
Playing it again in my headphones, I rehearsed it a few more times until I got it how I wanted. Beads of sweat fell from my forehead. My forearms, shoulders, chest, and back muscles burned as I thrashed my drum set, feeling happy with my final run-through.
Liam and Danny sent me some praise that made me chuckle, and I took that as my cue to break for lunch. I was famished, and there was a club sandwich calling my name in the refrigerator.
I opened the door, crashing into a tiny, five-foot-something frame on the other side before I could even register she was there.
“Shit, Hazel! I’m so sorry!”
She stumbled back a step, and I grabbed for her elbow to make sure she was all right.
“You okay?” I asked, frantically checking her over as if I’d just broken every bone in her body.
She quickly nodded, and her cheeks turned red with embarrassment. Placing a fist on the center of her chest, she rubbed it in a small circle.
My head filtered through the few words and phrases I’d learned since I’d run into her at the tattoo shop. I wanted to try learning sign language so I could talk to her more, but I wasn’t picking it up as quickly as I’d hoped.
The single movement of her hand and the expression on her face made me realize she was apologizing.
Apologizing?
“Hey, I ran into you.” I emphasized myself being at fault before mirroring her action. “I’m sorry.”
Her eyes softened.
“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
Smiling, she nodded, holding her hands out at her sides, and spun for me to inspect.
Her unruly blonde curls were tied into a messy bun atop her head, with short, small pieces that had fallen, framing her face.
There was paint smeared on her cropped smiley-face T-shirt and on the backs of her hands.
Nothing about her was out of place, and yet I made a signal with my finger as soon as she finished her circle, asking her to spin again so I could get another look.
She narrowed her eyes at me, and it was the cutest threatening stare I’d ever seen.
“Glad I didn’t break you,” I told her. “What are you doing down here? Did you need something?”
Her cheeks warmed again as she fiddled with her thumbs. I could see the excuses running through her head, but I couldn’t figure out for what.
“Wait.” I glanced over my shoulder at the door and back to her. “Were you spying on me?”
Her eyes widened like she’d been caught.
“Ha!” I grinned smugly. “You were!”
Annoyance outweighed her embarrassment for a moment, and she crossed her arms.
I didn’t last long in our little staredown, and she cracked a smile when I threw my head back with laughter.
She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and briefly let her gaze fall over me, top to bottom, lingering on the waistband of my sweatpants for a beat longer than the rest of me.
Enjoying the attention she gave me, I playfully tapped a finger under her chin. “Next time, I’ll let you watch, Sunshine.”
Her mouth parted at my words, and the urge to pull her lips to mine snaked its way into every fucking corner of my mind.
I noticed her picking at the dried paint on her fingers and took that as an opening to pull away and clear those thoughts from my head. Holding her in my arms last night had been the best feeling.
I shifted to get her attention back. “Did you already start upstairs?”
She glanced at her hands and gave me a shy smile.
“Let’s see it!” I exclaimed, brushing past her.
I heard her little feet quickly trail after me as I climbed the stairs out of the basement, walking around the corner and out into the front entryway, where the tarp lay unraveled.
There wasn’t much on the wall yet, just some monochromatic tones for the underpainting to set the tone, but she’d only just started while I’d been playing downstairs, and the fact that she’d been able to get this far in just a couple of hours was pretty incredible.
She picked up her palette and mixed shades of green and blue with her palette blade, then took a step away to look at the wall. I stared at her while her eyes worked from one blank section to the next, mapping out whatever artistry her beautiful brain had plotted.
She glanced over her shoulder at me with pink cheeks and a giddy grin.
“You can paint every room in this house if it will make you as happy as this,” I told her, shaking my head in disbelief that this woman was even real.
She chuckled and shook her head, not knowing I was serious.
“I’m going to go shower and start packing my bags.”
She looked down for a moment before giving me a soft nod.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and went upstairs. Stripping my clothes off, I grabbed a towel from the closet and turned the shower up high, waiting for the steam to fill the bathroom before getting in.
When I finished, I wrapped the towel around my waist and headed to my walk-in closet, pulling down my travel bags from one of the top shelves.
I wasn’t sure what kind of weather to pack for, but knowing me, I’d purchase some clothes along the way to take as souvenirs from different countries, so I didn’t need six weeks’ worth.
I packed the essentials. Jeans, sweatpants, workout shorts, plenty of T-shirts, a couple of light jackets, a few different shoe options, and the obvious toiletries.
It took less time than I’d thought it would, which, lucky for me, meant I could spend a few more hours of the day with Hazel before my early morning flight.
Glancing down the stairway as I rounded the corner, I hoped to see her at work, but she wasn’t there.
There were a few new layers of paint on the bottom third of the wall, but I still couldn’t guess what she was creating.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to. I was looking forward to the reveal when I got back.
With all the talk of my cooking skills, I’d planned on making something special for dinner, but when I walked into the kitchen, Hazel was already standing over the stove, preparing something.
My fingertips traced my smile as I enjoyed the vision of her barefoot and covered in paint, with her back to me.
Her hip was sunk to one side as one hand stirred and the other scrolled through a recipe on her phone.
She kept checking it nervously, looking down at her pan and back up again, and I chuckled.
I flickered the light switch once to let her know I was here.
She still jumped at my announcement and spun around.
“Whatcha making?” I asked, sauntering over to her side.
Her face lit up at my approach.
“Smells amazing,” I added.
She used her utensil to scoop up a bite-sized portion of noodles and sauce and lifted it to my mouth for me to taste.
Something about her cooking for me in my own kitchen and wanting me to taste-test her food made my insides spin and my chest sing.
It was one of those things you added to your dream list when you witnessed a cute couple doing something sweet together, hoping, one day, it could be you and your own special someone.
Only I had her standing in my kitchen when it happened. But Hazel wasn’t mine. Not yet.
I hummed as I closed my mouth, looking down at her as I chewed. Her green gaze bounced between my eyes and my mouth like she was drawing a triangle.
“That’s fucking delicious,” I told her, wanting more.
Her brows flicked up, and she wiggled at her success before turning off the burner.
I was grabbing for some plates in the cabinet when my phone chimed.
Hazel: I hope it’s okay that I cooked. I wanted to help since you were busy packing.
I set the plates down and met her eyes. “Of course it’s okay! I’m glad you’re making yourself at home. As I said before, what’s mine is yours.”
Hazel: You have a very well-stocked fridge, by the way.
I chuckled, patting my stomach. “I like to eat, and I need a lot of calories. Plus, I wanted to make sure you’d have everything you might need while I was gone.”
Her smile grew as she plated us each with some pasta, adding an extra scoop to mine.
We sat side by side, eating our dinner silently. I was a lot hungrier than I’d realized, and I wasn’t quite sure what to say. All I could think about was how much I was dreading having to say goodbye, especially after last night.
The few days she’d been here were like adding color back into my life again.
I liked having her around. I liked getting to know her better.
After everything she had been through and was still processing, Hazel was still willing to be vulnerable with me.
It was alluring. Beautiful. There was a level of resilience in being willing to leave one’s heart out there on the line, even after it’d been stomped on.
And I wanted to protect it at all costs.
I did the dishes after we finished and sent Hazel into the living room with Sweets to pick out a movie for us to watch.
We shared a blanket, and Sweets plopped between the two of us to get double the pets.
Ten minutes in, I realized that if I leaned back on the cushion far enough, Hazel didn’t notice me looking at her.
And that was how I spent most of the movie—watching her smile and laugh, her eyes scanning the subtitles on the screen, until we both eventually grew too tired to stay awake.
A wet, slobbery tongue woke me up with the sun the next morning.
Sweets demanded food, and I carefully climbed off the couch so I wouldn’t wake Hazel.
She was scrunched up in a ball on the end, hugging a throw pillow to her chest that I desperately wished were me.
I covered her with the blanket before I took care of Sweets and then quietly skipped upstairs to get changed and grab my bags.
Avery sent me a text, informing me that my car was on the way, and I begrudgingly made my way downstairs.
I thought about not waking her. It was early, and leaving without saying goodbye seemed like the easier thing to do. But I knew I’d regret that choice for the next month and a half when there was no way to make it up to her. Or to me.
Stroking a hand through the blonde strands behind her ear, I waited for her to stir before I pulled my hand away.
She shuffled, looked around at the room, and then blinked up at me groggily.
I lifted my mouth, trying to smile through the sadness. “Time for me to go, Sunshine.”
She frowned, looking over at my bags by the door and then at me.
“It’s early, I know. You can stay here and go back to sleep. I just thought I’d let you know.”
Her brows furrowed deeper as she threw the blanket off herself and stood, like she was mad I’d even suggest that.
I laughed, but it was short and lifeless.
My phone chimed again. It was Avery, letting me know the car was waiting out front.
“Thank you for taking care of Sweets for me,” I muttered, wishing the distance to my front door were longer.
My heart rate sped up when we stopped beside my bags, and I picked them up.
Hazel’s head bobbed, nodding.
Her candy-apple-green eyes, all juicy and bright and sad, held me in place in a sort of trance. It was almost hypnotizing, the way she looked at me. I never wanted to look away from them. But I reminded myself of the promise I’d made to myself—to take things slow and be patient.
What I craved wasn’t what she needed.
I pinched my eyes shut, trying to break the connection we had, but it still lingered there in the darkness, like an invisible string, tethering us from one end to the other.
Fucking hell, the way I felt for this woman was turning my whole world on its axis.
I needed to leave now. As excited as I was for the tour and my band, my fans … I wished I could stay here with her. Even if it was only for a little while. Maybe a day or two. But the sooner I left, the sooner I would be back.
“I’ll see you soon,” I promised.
Lowering my forehead to hers, I closed my eyes, envisioning all the ways I wanted to say goodbye to her.
And then I walked out the door.