Page 8 of Trapped with the Growly Rock Star

“Well, I don’t like him,” I say firmly, irritated on Lennox’s behalf.

“Not many people do,” he replies with a small smile. Then he sets down his drink and walks over to grab the acoustic guitar off the dining table. “Okay, anything in particular you want to hear?”

“Surprise me.” I sit on a barstool at the counter, nursing my Shirley Temple.

“Be warned, it’s been a while,” he says, perching on the table. “Pardon my rust, I might be a little rough.”

“I like it kinda rough,” I chuckle, then clap my hand over my mouth in embarrassment. I can’t believe that just came out like that.

“Okaythen…” His dark brow raises, and he laughs.

My face burns up as he begins to strum, tuning the guitar.

Finally Lennox begins to play, his fingers floating across the strings with a practiced ease and passion that belies his current creative struggles. The rich, deep notes fill the room, his tall frame bent over the instrument, dark hair falling into his eyes. The melody is hauntingly beautiful, and so raw it makes my breath catch. This isn't the music of a man who's lost his touch; it's the music of a soul baring itself, unfiltered and achingly real.

He continues to play, the lyrics speaking of love and loss, of second chances and the journey to find yourself again. I'm drawn to everything about the song, pulled in by the magnetic force of his talent and the emotion he pours into every chord.

As the last note fades away, my heart is pounding in my chest. “That was incredible,” I whisper. “You have a gift. Truly, Lennox. You haven't lostanything.”

He opens his eyes, his intense gaze holding me captive as he sets the guitar aside. “You felt it, then?”

Nodding, I whisper, “Yes. It's like…like I got to experience a piece of your soul.”

Lennox smiles. “For me, it felt like I was finally breathing again after being underwater for years.” His eyes flash with a spark of…passion, maybe?

His eyes fall to my mouth and stay there long enough to make me wonder if he’s going to come over here and kiss me. Hell, I’m teetering on the edge of wondering whether or not I should do the same…

CHAPTER4

LENNOX

I'm used to being the center of attention, commanding a crowd with my melodies and lyrics, sending fans into a frenzy with my every move on stage. But right now, my audience consists of one sexy redhead, and I'm not so sure I'm the master of my own destiny anymore.

The blizzard rages outside, forming an impenetrable white fortress around us. But I find myself caught in a different kind of storm—one of emotion and desire that swirls wildly within the confines of this cabin. The roaring flames in the fireplace have nothing on the ones Hallie ignites in my heart and…elsewhere. Every moment with her is like a sudden blast of heat in this frozen prison.

I wanted to kiss her after I had finished playing, but I didn’t want her to think my feelings toward her were coming from her positive reaction to my music.

Don’t get me wrong: it’s nice.Reallynice to know she gets my music. But for her to think that was the sole reason for wanting her? No. That makes me look like a shallow asshole.

And while I can be an asshole, what I’m feeling for her is anything but shallow.

She watches me tinker around on the guitar, her curious crystal-clear green eyes following my fingers.

“Come here,” I say, my voice coming out rougher than I expected. “Have a seat.”

I get up and have her sit on the table. I position the guitar in front of her while I get behind, so I can reach around and guide her hands.

She smells like Heaven, sweet and fresh, and being this close to her delectable neck and ear might be a mistake.

My calloused fingers entwine with hers and show her how to hold the instrument properly. Her soft skin against mine sends tendrils of awareness through my body, so unlike the numbness I've felt for years.

“Let it speak through you,” I murmur, placing her hands to make the basic chords.

As I demonstrate, my fingers linger on the frets, and my voice rumbles deep in my chest as I hum a simple melody. She leans her head back to eye me from the side, her scrutiny both unnerving and arousing.

“Like this?” she asks, her voice breathless as she mimics my actions. But instead of the chord I taught her, her finger slips and a random bum note comes out that makes me wince despite myself.

“Uhh…almost,” I say, and she giggles.

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