Page 32 of Her Dark Angel

Kinsley playfully rolls her eyes. “I stand corrected about you being an asshole.”

I bite back an amused smile and look down at the strings beneath my fingers. Out of instinct, I strum them to create the simple melody that has been playing on repeat in my mind for the past week or so. It’s a simple rift that has the potential to be a great rock ballad, but no lyrics jump out at me each time I play the melody, and it’s driving me fucking insane.

For once, I’m searching for inspiration that doesn’t want to show itself. It’s a new experience for me and not one I’m enjoying. I’m used to lyrics presenting themselves to me easily, but not this time.

“It’s beautiful,” Kinsley breathes.

I feel her eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. Instead, I find myself getting lost in the melody once again, desperate for inspiration to strike.

I don’t know how long we sit like this—me strumming the melody repeatedly while she listens intently. But it’s weirdly… nice and calming, which is not something I’m used to.

When nothing momentous comes to me, I stop strumming and sigh. It’s on the tip of my tongue—I can feel it. But nothing is coming to me. At least not yet.

I lay the guitar down on the couch beside me and close my eyes. My fingers rub at my temples to relieve the pain behind my eyes before I run a hand through my messy hair. “Anyway, that’s all that I’ve got.”

“I think it’s great,” Kinsley says with a smile. “Thank you for showing me.”

Before I can respond, the door to the studio swings open. Hudson stands in the doorway with his cock and balls hanging freely. His unfocused eyes and bed hair tell me he just woke up.

I jump to my feet, blocking Kinsley's view of him. A deep rage bubbles in the pit of my stomach at the audacity of this fucking man. I wish he would learn how to knock or put some goddamn pants on. “What the fuck, Hud. Put some fucking clothes on before you start wandering around my house.”

He rubs a hand down his cheek and blinks rapidly before meeting my gaze through messy locks of blonde hair. “Sorry, man. I was just looking for you to make sure you were all right.”

I frown. What the hell is he talking about? “Me? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He shrugs and scratches the back of his head. I hate that he hasn’t made a move to cover himself, but then again, it’s not something I haven’t seen before. Kin on the other hand… “Because I heard you screaming from your bedroom. And not the good kind where I know you’re getting your dick sucked off to the stars.”

Screaming? I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about. I didn’t have a girl in my room last night. That I know of. I pinch the bridge of my nose as my headache worsens. “Hudson, you must be hearing shit. Now go put on some fucking clothes, please. Jesus.”

He nods and turns to walk back down the hallway. When he rounds the corner, I close the door and slump down on the couch.

The little devil clears her throat. “Well, that was something. I appreciate you blocking my line of sight.”

I lift my eyes to meet hers. I don’t know why my first thought was to block her view of my bandmate's junk when she is a grown woman who can look at whatever she likes. I shake away the odd feeling in my chest, putting it down to needing a fucking cigarette and a drink.

“Well, I would rather not scar your vision this early in the contract.”

She bites back a smile and nods. “Speaking of the contract, Adam mentioned we need to be pictured in public again with each other.”

This contract is becoming a hindrance in my life, but James was right, which I hate to admit. Dark Angel’s popularity has increased significantly since the award show. The label is making plans to do a few local shows in Los Angeles before we go on a world tour in a few of months. The prospect of touring again makes me ecstatic. Playing our songs and listening to our fans cheer for us and sing along fills me with endorphins not even drugs or alcohol can provide.

And I have the little devil sitting across from me to thank for that.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I was thinking you could stop by the set for the movie I’m currently filming,” she suggests. “It’ll be low-key enough that we won’t be swarmed by the paps, but it’ll drum up enough talk that the tabloids will hear about it.”

I consider her idea for a moment. Despite having a busy schedule in the studio and a few photoshoots for magazines, it won’t be hard to stop by the set for an hour or two. Just long enough for someone to snap a few photos to sell to the tabloids and get our names in the headlines.

“Count me in,” I say after a moment of silence. “When should I stop by?”

“I’ll be on set all day on Thursday. You can stop by anytime.”

“Should I plant another kiss on you again? Or would you like that too much?” I remember how soft her lips were when I kissed her in the car to stop her panic attack. I don’t know why I did it other than I know the feeling of your chest being so tight you can’t breathe and your mind wandering to dark places. And for whatever reason, I didn’t want to see her in pain like that.

But I will admit I enjoyed kissing her more than I should have.

The little devil rolls her eyes and reaches over the wooden table to slap me on the shoulder. I want to laugh at her pathetic attempt to hurt me, but instead, I smile because seeing her feisty stirs something deep within my soul.

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