Page 16 of Another Postcard

Noah eyed me speculatively. “If you’re about to ask if there was a second thing, I’ll save you the trouble and you can keep your trap sealed. Yes, there is.” I turned back to my drink, which had been freshly refilled.Excellent.

“How much do you know about her sister?” This got my attention. Brooklynn had spoken of her sister from time to time, but for the most part, she was very tightlipped about her past and her family. I filled him in on the little I knew.

Noah ran a hand down his face, thinking. “Look,” he said quietly, “She was a bit more open with me because we needed to find solutions to her worries. But, she asked me to keep it to myself, and I won’t break her trust.”

I was at once irritated and confused. I hated that he knew more about Brooklynn than I did and I was confused about why he’d brought this up if he hadn’t planned on telling me anything.

“Here’s what I can tell you. She is extremely protective of her little sister and wants nothing more than to make her happy. If Brooklynn truly thought Baylee couldn’t handle her having this career, she would quit and leave it all behind.” This didn’t really surprise me. Brooklynn was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever met, inside and out. Her level of compassion was inspiring, making everyone around her want to be a better person.

“So, what are you suggesting?” I asked.

“I’m telling you that other than through music, her sister is the way to her heart. That’s my two cents, take from it what you will.”

I wanted to ask him for more but the stubborn look on his face told me I wouldn’t get anywhere. I threw back the rest of my Guiness and gave him a chin lift before stumbling my way toward the exit, waving at my other band mates who were doing shots at the other end of the bar.

My mind turned over what Noah had told me as I sat in the back of a cab, headed home. I waved at my doorman before riding the elevator up to the fourth floor. I had a decent-sized, three-bedroom condo in a Manhattan high-rise. I’d decided to be practical and not waste money on the glitz and glam that usually filled the life of a rock star. Noah’s parents had ingrained us all with the importance of staying grounded and being smart with our money. It seemed ridiculous to buy something huge, like a penthouse, for just me. I had a room for my instruments and a small studio set up. The other I used as a guest room for when Liam stayed over or Lily came for a visit. Besides, the house I owned just outside the city was big enough.

When I stepped inside my front door, I was hit with a wave of exhaustion. The high from our studio session had worn off, and I was crashing. The alcohol making me even more sluggish and tired as I stumbled into my bedroom. I flopped down onto my king-sized bed without even pulling back the grey quilt. Grabbing the remote, I pointed it at my floor-to-ceiling windows and pressed a button. Immediately, the glass darkened, becoming completely opaque so when morning came, the sunlight would be blocked out. I tossed the remote on the nightstand, shucked my clothes, and finally crawled under the covers. I dreamed of Brooklynn.

After a week of rehearsals, we’d worked through every kink, every inspired idea, and made a million tiny changes to “Sanity.” We poured ourselves into the creative process until the music was simply a part of us. Then, we started laying down the vocal and instrumental tracks.

The first day, Brooklynn and I worked on our separate parts with Cooper and the sound guys. Then they asked us to record an acoustic version, with only my guitar as accompaniment, possibly to be used as bonus material on the album. It was the first time we’d sung it, just the two of us, since we’d started working on the piece as a group. As amazing as it was when it was in full force with all six of us, there was something special about performing it alone.

We sat on our stools and faced the sound booth, singing directly into the mics hanging right in front of our mouths. But, we kept stealing sidelong glances at each other and as we neared the final chorus, we stopped trying to avert our gazes. Instead, our eyes locked and we eye fucked each other as we sang. The sexual tension was almost oppressive, making me hot and stealing some of my breath. I knew from experience that it was those moments, the ones where there were no sound technicians splicing and adjusting everything so that the record is a veritable jigsaw, that created the very best recording possible for the album. Acoustic meant we were singing in the raw, our technique wasn’t perfect, the notes weren’t exact. Those moments were what made it real, when the listener realized they were experiencing our true emotions.

When the song was done, time seemed to slow and the silence hung heavy in the air. I was so caught up in Brooklynn that I gripped my guitar a little too tight, trying to keep from tossing it away and kissing the fuck out of her. Static sounded through the speakers, making us both jump and breaking the connection.

“That was great. You guys are done for today,” Cooper announced. “We’ll record another acoustic version with all of you at some point as well.”

I swallowed hard, barely listening as I wrestled my desires, trying to shove them back in their box.

“Thanks, Cooper,” Brooklynn called then hopped off of her seat and grabbed her bag from the floor before making her way to the door. All the while, avoiding my gaze.

“Brooklynn,” I said her name almost as a command, and she paused, turning her head to peek at me over her shoulder. Her long hair was loose and some of it obscured her face like a curtain, making it hard for me to gauge her expression.

I put away my guitar and picked up the case, then strode in her direction.

“Recording today was amazing, baby.” I pushed her hair away from her face and studied her darkened, mocha eyes. Her face was slightly flushed, something easily missed if you weren’t looking up close. I smiled, trying to keep my smugness from showing. I was even more convinced that she was every bit as drawn to me as I was to her. “Let’s go out and celebrate.”

“No.” She shook her head in emphasis.

“How about another kiss then?” It was a long shot, sure. But, I liked betting on the dark horse.

Her lips slowly lifted into a smile and she chuckled. “In your dreams.”

“Oh, Brooklynn,” I sighed. “In my dreams, we do so much more than kiss.”

She glanced away quickly, but not before I saw the flash of heat and longing in her eyes. Before she could try to leave again, I tugged on her arm, recieving minimal resistance. I didn’t push my luck, only giving her a sweet, lingering kiss. Pulling back, I smiled at her soft expression, and she returned the gesture. Then she glanced down and when her head came back up, her face was blank. “Goodnight, Levi.”

I tucked a strand of her inky black hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby. Sweet dreams.”

After walking her out and putting her in a cab, I dug my iPhone out of my pocket and dialed Simon’s number. I decided to walk home and started that way while I waited for him to answer. He picked up, and I didn’t even wait for him to say hello. “Poker, beer, my house.”

“Poker? I hardly know her!” he shouted.

“Really, Simon?” I asked, infusing my voice with disappointment. “You couldn’t come up with anything better? It’s fucking sad, man.”

“Fuck you,” he laughed. “That’s classic shit.”

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