Page 30 of Her Dark Angel

The little devil nods slowly, impressed. “It’s an impressive collection.”

I want to tell her it is indeed a great collection but is also a constant fucking reminder of my shit childhood and the even shitter people who pretended to raise me, but I don’t. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I fight them back and clear my throat.

“Why are you here?” I ask, getting straight to the point. With this killer headache, I don’t feel like interacting with anyone.

She bites her bottom lip and folds her hands in her lap. She’s wearing a double denim outfit today, consisting of jeans and a jacket, with a plain white T-shirt underneath. I watch as she picks at the skin around her fingernails, meeting my eyes.

“I wanted to apologize for overstepping my boundaries at the award show. I didn’t know your parents are a touchy subject for you, so… I’m sorry.”

I drag my lip ring between my teeth and regard her for a moment. The little devil has a fiery personality and isn’t afraid to stand up for herself, so I’m surprised to hear the words I’m sorry come from that pretty mouth of hers.

“Apology accepted,” I respond, not in the mood to come up with a smartass comment. “Is there anything in your life that is off-limits for conversations?”

Her bright eyes widen at my words, not expecting me to say such a thing. I mean, it’s only fair we both have one off-limit topic.

“Um,” she says slowly, chewing on her bottom lip. I clench my jaw to distract myself from how hot the little devil looks with her plump lip between her teeth. My cock twitches at the sight, but I fight it off the best I can. Now is not the time. “I guess my parents are off-limit too.”

I raise a brow at her. “It seems both of us don’t want to talk about our parents.”

She shrugs. “We both have our secrets, I guess.”

That’s a fucking understatement.

“Okay, well…”

Blondie stands from the couch and turns to me. “I do want to ask you one more thing.”

Of course she fucking does.

“Shoot.”

“What did you do after the award show when you left?”

I cast my memory to only a couple of nights ago when James dropped me home after the show and told me to behave myself. Of course I did my best, but I don’t make promises. I grabbed a bottle of Jack, went to my studio, and played around with a melody that had been stuck in the back of my mind for several days. Images of the ocean wouldn’t leave my mind. Eventually, I drank so much I passed out on one of the couches.

“I was in the studio,” I say, leaving out the rest of the details. “Why?”

“I just…” She drags her bottom lip between her teeth again and inhales slowly. “After hearing the origin story of Dark Angel, I must admit I’m curious about what it is you do when making music.”

My brows shoot up involuntarily. Of all the things Kinsley could have said, that was the last thing I expected to hear. Most of the time when I bring a woman home, they are only interested in getting into my bed naked, desperate for me to fuck them, which I have no problem with. But this… is new for me.

Upon seeing my surprised expression, her brows crease into a frown. “I mean… unless you don’t want to share that with me. I understand we don’t know each other well and it’s a personal process?—”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt. It seems she is the type to ramble when nervous. Some might find it annoying, but I think it’s endearing. “I can show you around the studio if you like.”

The little devil smiles and nods. “Sounds great.”

I gesture for her to follow me down the hallway that leads to the studio. When we enter, the lights are switched off, so I flick them on, illuminating the large space. I turn to Kinsley to see her bright eyes wide as they take in the space. She slowly enters the room, gazing around at the expensive equipment. She reaches out and traces her fingertips along the soundboard.

I have never allowed a woman into the studio because it’s a private space that is personal to me. It’s where I create the music that speaks to my heart, and allows me to use other avenues to release the constant pressure in my chest. It’s where I come to be myself, which is a luxury in this industry.

But when the little devil asked to see it, I couldn’t find a reason to say no. And that confuses the fuck out of me because I hate people invading my comfort space, but when it’s Kinsley, I don’t seem to mind one fucking bit, and that scares me.

“Did you build this room?” she asks, turning to look at me.

I nod. “The band didn’t want to rent a studio space, so I offered to build one so we would always have a studio to go to whenever inspiration struck.”

“And has it?” she questions softly.

---