Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
David
I’ve kissed a lot of women.
Backstage.
After parties.
In hotel rooms with city lights bleeding through floor-to-ceiling glass.
I have never been wrecked by one.
Until now.
I walk out of The Book Shop like a man who just stepped into traffic and somehow survived.
The bell above the door jingles behind me, and the cool air hits my face, but it does nothing to settle what’s happening inside my chest.
My heart is pounding.
Not lust.
Not ego.
Not conquest.
Something else.
Something deeper.
She tasted like coffee and sugar, and stubbornness.
Like sunlight trapped in a small-town bookstore.
And when she said I’m not a backup plan?
That wasn’t a warning.
It was a line in the sand.
I drag a hand down my face and head straight for Nate’s place.
Because if I don’t talk this out with someone, I’m going to do something reckless.
Like stay.
Like give up the Rugby Cup deal.
Like—fuck.
No, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
That’s the problem.
I push through Nate’s door without knocking.
“Hey, I need—”
I stop.
Music fills the room.
Not polished.
Not overproduced.
Raw.
A young female voice is running scales near the mic setup in the corner.
Bella.
Nate’s niece by marriage.
I’ve met her twice.
Sweet kid. Shy. But she has this youthful energy that’s just off the charts.
Right now, she’s not shy.
She’s got headphones on, eyes closed, and she’s singing like she’s got something to prove.
And damn.
She can sing.
Not just pretty.
Not just pitch-perfect.
There’s texture there. Grit under the sweetness. A crack in the high notes that makes you lean in.
Nate stands behind the board, watching her like he already knows what he’s got.
I don’t interrupt.
I listen.
And something happens.
It starts as a flicker.
A rhythm.
A pulse.
Not the old stadium anthem energy.
Not the loud, ego-driven hook I’ve been grinding out for the Rugby Cup.
This is different.
Softer at first.
Then it builds.
A new beat.
Echoing low in my chest.
And I know exactly where it came from.
My Sunshine.
Hilary.
The way she said I scare her.
The way she stood her ground.
The way she kissed me back like she wasn’t afraid of what it might cost.
Bella finishes the run and pulls off her headphones, grinning.
Nate claps once.
“That’s it. That’s the take.”
Then he notices me.
He squints.
“What happened to you?”
“I kissed her.”
He doesn’t even ask who.
“Ah,” he says slowly. “And?”
“And I’m screwed.”
Bella laughs lightly, grabbing her bag.
“Um, old guys are weird. I’m gonna grab water. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.”
She slips out, leaving me and Nate in the studio.
Nate studies me.
“Old guys?” I ask and scrunch my nose.
He just shrugs like, yeah.
“Damn, Mars, you look like you just got hit by a truck.”
“Feels more like I got hit by a freight train.”
He folds his arms. “Talk.”
I pace once.
Twice.
“I can’t do the anthem, but I can’t say no,” I say abruptly.
He blinks. “You haven’t even answered your producer.”
“I know.”
“And the deadline’s tomorrow.”
“I know.”
He watches me carefully now.
“She got to you.”
I stop pacing.
“She didn’t get to me.”
He lifts a brow.
I exhale.
“She reminded me what it feels like.”
“To what?”
“To feel something real. To mean it.”
The room goes quiet.
I gesture vaguely toward the mic setup.
“I’ve been writing noise,” I admit. “Big hooks. Big drops. Crowd-pleasers. But it’s empty.”
“And now?”
“Now there’s something in my head that won’t shut up.”
Nate’s expression shifts.
Curious.
“What kind of something?”
I move to the piano without thinking and press a few keys.
Soft.
Minor.
Then I change it.
Lift it.
Add warmth.
I hear her laugh.
See her in that yellow blouse.
Sunlight in corporeal form.
“It’s not a stadium song, but it might be,” I say slowly. “It’s a duet.”
Nate’s brows lift.
“With who?”
I glance toward the door Bella just walked through.
“She’s good,” I say.
“She is.”
“She’s young. Has energy.”
“Yeah.”
I look back at him.
“What if instead of some overproduced sports anthem, I pitch something different? And what if we start that girl on her career path and protect her from the vampires?”
“How different? And what do you mean we?” he asks carefully.
“This song I’m hearing? It’s unexpected. And we don’t give over to some producer or manager. We use our dime. Our scruples. And we hire the right protection.”
He studies me.
Then smirks slightly.
“I see. So, what’s that glint in your eye?”
I feel it.
That spark.
That rush I haven’t felt in a long time.
“I’m gonna say yes, but I gotta call my producer,” I say.
“And?”
“And you gotta call your lawyer for her.”
His eyes widen slightly.
“You’re serious. You want Bella to sing this thing?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. And it’s the first time in a while that I feel excited to do something,” I say and that beat inside, it’s getting louder.
“Why is that?” Nate asks, cocking his head to the side.
“Because I know where I’m going once the song’s finished.”
And I do.
Because that beat inside me?
It’s new.
It’s alive.
It’s hers.
She put it there.
My Sunshine.
And if I’m going to share something with the world, it’s not going to be hollow.
It’s going to mean something.
I shoot off a text to my producer, and I tell him to call me. Then I turn back to face Nate.
“Alright, let me tell you my idea,” I tell him.
Excitement bubbles in my veins, and this time I know I didn’t come to Hammonton because I was running from something.
I came here because I was running toward something.
Towards her.
Towards home.