Page 11 of The Sound of Us

Crap. I needed to get it together. I was at work. He was just some random dude who oozed sex. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a man. If I made the roster, I’d be spending at least thirty hours a week practicing and training on top of classes and work. And then there were the nightmares and the scars. I wasn’t ready to open myself up body and soul to another person, and when that day came—if it ever came—it would be with someone solid and stable. Not some sexy sexpot straight out of my bad boy musician fantasies who had a woman for every day of the week.

“Did you just call me a sexy sexpot?” Dante gave me a quizzical look.

Dear God. I’d said it out loud.“No.” My cheeks burned, and I crumpled the cup in my hand. “You must have misheard.”

“You didn’t stay for the show on Friday night.” He scanned his payment card, dropping his gaze for the first time since he’d come up to the counter. “I made my bass talk when we played ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine.”’

“I had a busy weekend planned. I needed my sleep.” I liked that he’d noticed my absence… maybe a little too much. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to hear you play. I love McKagan’s slinky four-bar solo.”

His face brightened. “Do you play bass?”

I shook my head. “I never had time to learn how to play an instrument, but if I had to choose, it would have been the guitar. I can’t imagine there is anything more cathartic than sitting in your bedroom strumming ‘Stay With Me,’ ‘when the party’s over,’ or even ‘Wind of Change’ while you cry and sing through your tears.”

“What about ‘Hurt’?” he asked, stepping to the side so I could help the next customer.

“Nine Inch Nails or Johnny Cash?” I waved my hand in the air. “Don’t bother answering that. It has to be the Johnny Cash version. The Nails dragged it out too much. Six minutes is too long to cry.” I took the next two orders and then turned my focus to helping Haley.

“Nine Inch Nails’s version of ‘Hurt’ was six minutes of musical genius,” Dante said, resting his elbows on the espresso machine.

“Only if you’re wearing earplugs.”

He gave me yet another knee-wobbling smile. “I think this requires further debate. When are you done?”

“Thirty minutes,” I said. “But then I’m heading straight for my basketball tryout. I’m surprised you didn’t remember since it was part of the conversation you were listening to that didn’t include you.”

He sipped his coffee, and I couldn’t help but watch the way his lips moved, or how his corded throat tightened when he swallowed. “I remember everything about that night.”

So do I.

I was grateful for the chance to cool my heated face in the chiller where we’d stored the extra lemon squares. I took a few deep breaths as I filled the box. My chest wasn’t tight the way it had been all weekend, and the stress headache that had kept me up all night was gone. I felt light, curiously relaxed, and inexplicably… happy.

“Don’t eat them all at once,” I warned, handing him the box. “It’s not good to have too much sugar.”

“Too late, buttercup.” He looked back over his shoulder as he walked away, and his wide smile made his eyes crinkle. “I think I’ve just overdosed.”

CHAPTER FIVE“Mr. Brightside” by the KillersDANTE

I think I’ve just overdosed?Had those words seriously left my lips? What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t do pickup lines or cutesy phrases. I didn’t hang around outside buildings hoping for the chance of another conversation. Hell, I was the man who didn’t have to chase after women. They came to me. Case in point: Madison Taylor.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” Madison trailed her finger along the box of lemon squares, her blue eyes calculating. “You left me unread.”

I’d met Madison during a summer law internship program sponsored by the State Bar. I’d applied for the program not just for the paid work experience, but because it was run by some of the top prosecutors from the Cook County State’s Attorney office, and I wanted to make those connections early to pave my way into the DA’s office after I finished law school. Two weeks before the end of the program, Madison found out about my band and showed up at our gig with only one thing on her mind. I’d been happy to oblige and had assumed she’d get the message when I didn’t respond to her texts. Clearly, I was wrong.

I forced a smile and moved the box away from Madison’s red lacquered nails. “I thought we both understood that it was just one night.”

I had a one-night rule because I wasn’t interested in relationships.I’d lost everyone I loved, and it had almost broken me. I couldn’t open myself to that kind of pain again.

“But it was such a good night.” She twirled a long strand of her blonde hair around her finger. “I didn’t get a chance to show you everything I could do.”

“I’m sure there are other guys on campus who will appreciate your talents.” I wasn’t usually so abrupt, but I was waiting for Skye to get off her shift, and after Quinn had chased her away with his comments about my extracurricular activities, I didn’t want her to see me with a woman who clearly had only one thing on her mind.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Madison huffed and walked away with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

I knew exactly what I was missing, and it couldn’t compare to the connection I felt with Skye. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything for a woman that wasn’t purely physical, but Skye was the whole damn package.

I moved to a more secluded area and checked my station fan mail while I waited. Over the weekend, I’d received an unprecedented six requests to meet random girls for drinks—I usually averaged one or two fan requests a day—a few demo tracks from local indie bands, and a reminder from Noah that he was expecting me to do more volunteer work around the station.

Fuck.

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