Page 31 of Her Dark Angel

I frown. “Has what?”

“Inspiration struck.” She turns and looks at the soundboard once again. “I know a new record is on the horizon for Dark Angel, so I’m sure you’re working on something new. But has anything stuck out to you that is just screaming to have a song written about it?”

I rub the back of my neck to release the tension in the muscles. “Not yet. I guess you could say I’m feeling a little stuck. Nothing has been inspiring enough in my daily life to write a song about it.”

“Nothing?” Kinsley quizzes.

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“What about your bandmates? Or the other people in your life?” I watch as she walks over to one of the couches and sits down with a plop. She runs her hands over the material before meeting my gaze. “Surely there has to be something.”

I walk over to the other couch and drop down onto it. “Not unless I want to write a song about Johnny.”

The little devil snorts, the sound echoing across the room. “I hate to break it to you, but a song about him wouldn’t be a record-breaking track.”

I drag my bottom lip between my teeth to bite back a smile. “No, I suppose you’re right.”

Speak of the Devil, a sharp knock sounds at the door before Johnny enters with a wooden tray. He places it down on the wooden table in front of me. “Here is your coffee and Tylenol. I also made you a grilled cheese in case you were hungry.”

“Thanks, Johnny.”

Kinsley is watching Johnny with cautious eyes as he nods at me and exits the room. Leaning forward, I eye the sandwich and coffee. Deciding I’m not hungry, I grab the coffee mug and throw the little pills into my mouth. As I swallow them down, I feel two blue eyes watching me.

“A breakfast of champions, I see.”

I set the mug down on the tray. “Oh, you’ve never had coffee and Tylenol for breakfast? You’re missing out, little devil.”

She rolls her eyes. “I have, actually.”

I raise a brow at her. “That’s surprising. I would ask why but I’m not sure you’d tell me.”

A pained look shoots across her features before she responds, “Maybe one day.” She leans back further against the couch and sighs. “That Johnny guy gives me the creeps.”

I take another sip of coffee, hoping it’ll make me feel more alive and distract me from the aftereffects of cocaine lingering in my body. “Don’t worry about him. He means well.”

“Is he a friend or just someone who lingers around your house?”

I shrug. “Both, I guess. Anyway, do you want to talk about the people I hang out with or my music?”

“Your music,” she answers quickly. “Is there anything you can show me? Or is whatever you’re working on top secret?”

I stand from the couch and walk over to where my black acoustic guitar sits on its stand by the other guitars. I’ve had this instrument since I was seventeen. The wood is chipped in some places from years of wear and tear, but my favorite detail is the date of our first ever Dark Angel show in 1981. Axel told me it would be a good idea to carve the date into the wood so I never forget where we started. It’s oddly sentimental coming from him, but he was right.

“Just because you stopped by to apologize, I’ll show you a melody I’ve been working on. But fair warning, it’s nowhere near complete yet.”

“Right, because you haven’t found the inspiration for the lyrics yet.”

I smile as I sit back down on the couch and adjust the guitar on my thigh, my fingers strumming the strings lightly. I find myself smiling more around the little devil and while it pisses me off, I don’t hate it either. “You’re a quick learner.”

“And you’re still an asshole, remember?”

I burst out laughing, and the little devil can’t help but chuckle at her jab. God, this woman knows how to keep me on my toes.

“You know, for a goodie two shoes, you sure are witty,” I say, lifting my eyes to meet hers.

She raises a curious brow at me. “Oh, is that what you really think of me?”

“Among other things, but those thoughts are top secret.”

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