Page 5 of A Wish for Us

I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, just taking in the smoke. “Did a year of uni in London. It was okay, but I didn’t want to be in England anymore. Lewis invited me here to study under him. So I came.”

There was a brief silence. “But I still don’t understand. Why finish at all? You have a career that’s taking off. Why bother with college?”

A knife in my stomach twisted, my throat clogging up. I wasn’t going there. So I just kept my eyes closed and my mouth shut.

Easton sighed. “Fine. Be a mystery. Just add that to the list of things thechicks will get wet over.” He shoved my arm. “Open your eyes. How can I show you the sights of Jefferson Town if they’re shut?”

“It can be an audio tour. The way you never shut your mouth, you could make some serious coin doing it.”

He burst out laughing. “True.” He pointed at the small town we were entering. “Welcome to Jefferson. Founded in 1812. Population two thousand.” He turned down what had to be the main road. “You have all the usual places.” He said that in a horrendous English accent, which I assumed was for my pleasure. “Dairy Queen, McDonald’s, all that stuff. A few country bars. Some small diners. A coffee lounge—has some pretty good open mic nights if you’re looking to chill. Some good local talent.” There was a cinema that had four screens, some touristy stuff, and finally, we passed the Barn. It was exactly that, but Easton promised me inside resembled something you’d find in Ibiza. Having played in Ibiza the most out of anywhere I’d spun, I doubted that. But it was a place to play, and in this town, it was something.

“What are you studying?” I asked.

“Art,” he replied. I thought of the posters and paintings on the wall of our room. “I like mixed media too. Anything with color and expression.” He cocked his head my way. “I’ll be running the lights on Friday. You on the decks, me on the lights. It’s gonna be sick.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Think of all the chicks we’ll get.”

Right then, all I could think of was sleep.

Chapter Three

Cromwell

Easton was practically bouncing on the driver’s seat of his truck as we approached the Barn. It was only ten at night. I wasn’t used to hitting the decks until twelve at the earliest.

Easton was right. The place was bouncing, people spilling all over the grass outside the wooden building. Dance music pounded through the cracks in the wooden panels. I winced on hearing one awful mix slide into another tune.

Easton must have seen my expression. He pulled the truck to a stop and put his hand on my arm. “You’re our savior, Crom. You see what we’ve had to put up with? Bryce is protective of his decks. You’ve been warned.”

I lit up a cigarette and got out of the truck. All eyes had been on it from the minute Easton pulled up. It got even worse when I got out. I ignored the stares and hushed whispers and moved to the bed of the truck.

I pulled out my laptop bag, throwing it over my shoulder. My sleeveless T-shirt was sticking to my chest. The weather made me feel like I was living in a permanent sauna. The denim of my jeans clung to my legs. I followed Easton toward the barn. All the girls were checking me out. With two full sleeves and tattoos creeping up my neck, there were only ever two reactions to me. Girls either flooding their knickers as soon as they clapped eyes on my ink or complete revulsion. From the looks coming my way, it was mostly the former.

A brunette stepped in front of me, stopping me dead. Easton laughed beside me. She pushed on his arm, then said, “I’m Kacey. You’re Cromwell Dean.”

“Good observation,” I said.

She smiled. I ran my tongue over my lips and saw her eyes snap to my tongue ring. “I’m…um…” She blushed. “I’m looking forward to hearing your set.” She took a sip of her beer and nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’ve got some of your mixes on my jogging playlists, but I’ve heard it’s like nothing else to hear you live.”

I looked at Easton. “If you want me to save everyone from the ear-bleeding mixes that this Bryce is playing, we’d better go.”

“Catch you later, Kacey,” Easton said. I nodded at Kacey then moved around her toward the door. Easton nudged me. “She’s a good one.” He smiled wider. “Hot too, huh?”

I ducked my head, hiding my face when I noticedallthe people staring. I hated attention. I knew it sounded stupid, the DJ hating attention. But I just wanted people to want my music, not me. I didn’t want their interest in me as a person. I just wanted to play.

Had to play for my sanity.

The rest was hard to deal with.

There wasn’t much to me anyway. I really wasn’t worth knowing.

Easton laughed at me shunning the attention and threw his arm around my neck. As loud as he was, he would never understand. The arsehole had no concept of personal space. But I couldn’t help but like him. I didn’t have friends. And I had a feeling he wouldn’t go away even if I asked him to.

“Shit, Crom. You feeling like an animal in a zoo or what? We don’t get many celebrities here in Jefferson.”

“I’m not a celebrity,” I replied as he led me toward the podium.

“In the electronic dance music world you are. And here at JYU you are.” He leaned over to another girl who was hanging by the stage. I swear, the guy was a chick magnet. He turned back to me. “What’s your poison?”

“Jack. Full bottle.”

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