Page 2 of The Sound of Us

Isla gestured me away from the door and I leaned against the brick wall to take the pressure off my left leg, wishing for fall with its crisp air and the cooling Lake Michigan breeze.

“Why are we here, Iz? We can come back another night when your fangirl crush is playing.”

“Because we need to talk about why you told the cute bartender who’s into you that you were listening to Angelfire’s ‘Song of Despair.’”

“The band is Angerfist,” I corrected her. “The song is ‘The Depths of Despair,’ and I came here tonight for you. I’m not ready to date, especially not someone who called his sex playlistBoner.”

Isla laughed. “He had playlists. You love making playlists…”

“I know what you were trying to do, but it’s not a good time. Tryouts are on Monday and if I don’t get back on the roster…” The fear I’d been trying to suppress all day welled up in my chest, stealing my breath away.

“Then you become a journalist,” she said firmly. “You didn’t just come to Havencrest to play basketball. You came because of their journalism program. Skye, they chose you out of thousands of applicants because you have talent.”

“Journalism is my fallback option,” I said. “Basketball has beenmy whole life. It’s what my dad and I dreamed about, and now he’s gone. I want to honor his memory. I still want to make him proud.”

I also needed the full-ride athletic scholarship that came with a place on the team. Between medical bills and the loss of my father’s income, my mother could barely make ends meet. My younger brother Jonah had a heart condition and required special care, and I didn’t want to add to her burden by telling her that I’d just had a meeting with my student financial advisor and things didn’t look good. I’d lost my prestigious internship at theChicago Timeswhen I withdrew to recover from my injuries, and even with my part-time job at the coffee shop on campus, I couldn’t pay for another three years at college without financial aid.

“Your dreams are going to come true.” Isla pulled out her vape. “I’ve got a sixth sense about these things.”

“Iz…” I shook my head. “You promised me you were going to quit. You’re a biochem major. You know how bad vaping is for you.”

“I just need one hit to get over my disappointment,” she said. “It gives me the kind of buzz I can’t get from alcohol. And Scott’s on his way. It wouldn’t be nice to make him vape alone.”

“Give it to me.” I held out my hand.

“This is the last time. I promise.”

“You told me if I saw you vaping again to stop you by any means possible.” I lunged for her, and she backed away just as two guys emerged from the van carrying a large amp. Isla stumbled, grabbing my arm and pulling me off-balance. We went down hard, falling against the amp and knocking it to the ground. I rolled off Isla and snaked up beside her to grab the vape from her hand.

A shadow fell across us, and a deep voice resonated in the darkness. “Now, that’s loyalty.”

CHAPTER TWO“Sound of Your Voice” by Port CitiesSKYE

Have you ever heard a voice that takes your breath away? I’m talking that deep, heart-melting bass with the low C talent from musical greats like Johnny Cash, Leonard Cohen, and Jim Morrison—a voice that makes the most mundane words sound rich beyond imagining. Silken and sensuous, distinctly seductive, the first time I heard his voice, it vibrated deep into my body and bones.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I looked up, my voice trailing off as I fell into the most intense dark eyes I’d ever seen. For a moment I thought Jeff Buckley had come back from the grave to rip my heart out with his haunting cover of “Hallelujah” all over again. The man holding out his hand to me was quite simply my fantasy come to life.

He had features a sculptor would love: angular jaw, high cheekbones, and a strong chin. A vintage The Cure T-shirt molded over a body that radiated raw, lean power, the short sleeves revealing chiseled arms covered in ink. His black Levi’s sat low on his hips, held in place by a brown leather belt that matched his Red Wing Heritage Blacksmiths. The way he moved when he held out his hand screamed street-level royalty—the hot dude at the party you would never approach in case you stutter or stammer or stare at your shoes.

“Let me help you up.” His warm hand engulfed mine and he pulled me up in one smooth, easy motion, his forearm ripplingbeneath the ink. Liquid heat flooded my veins, and my body came alive with the most primal of hunger.

He helped Isla to her feet, and she shot me a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“Uh…” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the pure, exquisite masculinity in front of me.

With a snort of laughter, Isla picked up her vape and went to join Scott, who had just walked out into the alley.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” My rescuer’s voice moved through my body like the beat of a song as he brushed messy strands of his dark brown hair out of his face.

“I’m…” Bewitched, bewildered, entranced. I was a down-to-earth, practical person who preferred facts to fiction, reality to fantasy. Never in my life had I met a man who so utterly and completely overwhelmed all my senses.

His lips quirked at the corners, drawing my attention to his soft mouth and straight white teeth. “‘Eye of the Tiger’? ‘Eye in the Sky’? ‘Eye Know’?”

Did he just name “eye” song titles?

“You forgot ‘Eyes of A Stranger,’ ‘Eyes Without a Face,’ ‘Eye,’ and ‘Eyes on You.’” The words came out before I could stop them, my competitive streak tweaked by his music-based query.

“She knows her music.” A grin spread across his face, taking him from beautiful to breathtaking in a heartbeat.

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