Page 74 of The Sound of Us

“I’m glad you had some happy times.”

“Teen Skye,” he said, perking up. “What was she listening to?”

“Omi’s ‘Cheerleader.’ It was all about friends. They were my cheer squad.”

“I tried to be Sasha’s cheer squad,” he said quietly. “I used to play Avicii’s ‘Hey Brother’ at full volume to let her know I would be there for her no matter what, but it wasn’t enough. She saw what my father did and couldn’t live with it. She took her life when she was fourteen and I was the one who found her. My soundtrack ends with Chord Overstreet’s ‘Hold On.’ Sasha died and a part of me died, too.”

“You had to be so strong and so brave for so long.” I brushed his hair back. “How did it not break you?”

“It did,” he said. “I left home the day after her funeral. It was a dark time. Drugs, alcohol, anything to numb the pain. I wound up busking on the street and Noah found me. He let me stay here, helped me clean up, and gave me a job at the station. I broke ties with my dad and changed my last name so the family line would end with him. Revenge gave me a reason to go on. I’m going to destroy his empire and make sure he goes to jail.”

My heart ached for him. He was living his life for someone else instead of living it for himself. But wasn’t I doing the same?

“My last song is ‘Tears in Heaven.’” It was a beautiful song about guilt and loss and regret that encapsulated the most devastating moment of my life. “I was arguing with my dad in the car right before the accident. He was so angry because I told him I was probably going to be cut from the team. He accused me of not working hard enough, of not trying hard enough, of not wanting it enough. He said I was the greatest disappointment of his life. And maybe…” I drew in a deep breath. “Maybe he shouldn’t have adopted me.”

“Jesus, Skye.” His arms tightened around me.

“The thing is…” I struggled to put all the tangled emotions intowords as eloquent as Eric Clapton’s lyrics. “If I had tried harder, or if I’d been the player he wanted me to be, we wouldn’t have been arguing in the car that night, and he might have seen the drunk driver cross the center line in time to avoid the collision.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” he said firmly. “His death is on the idiot who got into a car drunk. It’s not on you. It will never be on you.” He kissed my forehead. “You need a new last song.”

“So do you.”

“We should write our own song,” he said. “Something upbeat.”

“I think it should be a song that shows we learned from our experiences and can move forward unburdened by the past.”

Dante gave an exasperated sigh. “I’ll write the song. You can dance naked when I play it for you.”

“I could dance naked for you now,” I offered. “Put on some Joe Cocker.” I’d never done any kind of sexy dancing for anyone, but I felt lighter after sharing my burden and I knew in my heart there was nothing I could do to screw this up. Dante accepted me with all my flaws.

Dante scrambled up the bed while I pulled on my clothes. He leaned against the headboard, gloriously naked, and folded his hands behind his head. “Dance,” he demanded.

I lifted an admonishing brow. “Bossy boyfriends don’t get treats.”

“I’m your boyfriend.” He gave a satisfied grunt.

“Yes, you are.” I had to fight back a smile.

Dante licked his lips. “I’m going to get a treat.”

I struck a pose, waiting for the first notes of “You Can Leave Your Hat On.” “Only if you ask nicely.”

His gaze darkened. “I’m your boyfriend. Boyfriends get treats.”

“Yes, but you don’t always get to be in control.”

“Please.” The word rumbled from his throat, carrying with it the promise that I wouldn’t be in charge for long.

I unzipped my dress and rocked my hips in time to the music. “Good boy.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE“Set Fire to the Rain” by AdeleSKYE

I was awoken the next morning by the scream of a siren and flashing red lights.

Bolting out of Dante’s bed, I ran to the window. He’d left two hours earlier for his morning class, insisting I stay and sleep after our wild night together, so I knew the emergency vehicle wasn’t for him. Still, my heart pounded as I pulled on my clothes and ran outside.

“Do you know this guy?” A paramedic waved me over to the back lane, where Noah was lying on a stretcher beside two turned-over recycling bins. His eyes were closed, and for a moment I thought he wasn’t breathing.

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