Page 51 of Busted Dreams

“Here are your coffees. Just remember there’s no sex on the couches. That’s what the supply room is for.” Jeff fought to hide his smile as he dropped off our coffees and left.

Groaning, Beck slid down in his seat, taking his hands from my legs altogether. “I wish we were alone right now,” he said under his breath, causing my breath to catch.

Me too, I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I still needed to talk to him about Rhys. And right now, before we filmed, wasn’t it.

“Okay,” I said as I placed my feet back on the ground and scooped my drink up. “What did you want to do?”

“I think we should do a couple videos since we have the time now. That way, you can post them periodically. For the bigger accounts, that seems like what they do. For the first one, I thought you could ask me to hit that note. Then I’ll sing a song of some sort with a high range. And for the last one we do…I want it to be a surprise.”

He seemed way too excited. I had a large dose of suspicion, but not enough to tell him no when this was his idea. I had a few of my own too.

Over the next thirty minutes, we took draft after draft of different ideas. Some were keepers, and some I deleted right away. I’d never had so much fun with Beck. He seemed to come to life every time I hit record, and I was like a magnet gravitating toward his energy.

As the evening grew later, we’d gathered a small crowd but they kept their distance, choosing chairs and couches away from the stage. Their stares were heavy, but I did a decent job of keeping it on the peripheral of my mind, focusing all my attention on Beck.

“Time for the last one, are you prepared?” he asked as he pulled me to my feet, positioning me a few steps in front of the couch we had been sitting on.

“You asking me that makes me nervous.” I cast a glance at the crowd. Whatever he wanted to do seemed like it needed too much involvement from me if he was positioning me in a specific spot. And not a spot that would capture the best light of the stage or his best angle. This spot was more for me than him.

“Don’t be nervous. This will be fun. And I’m creating my own trend.” He rubbed his earlobe. “Or I’m trying to, anyway.”

“Then I’m ready.” I wasnotready.

He sat in a chair directly in front of me, tossing a leg over the side and opening his phone like he was a sexy rock star without a care. “When you’re ready to record, I want you to say ‘Make me feel wanted.’” Studiously looking at his phone, he did a poor job of hiding his grin.

The crowd around us had gotten a little thicker, and this time, there would be people milling behind him. We must have been entering the rush hour for the coffee shop.

“Maybe we should do this tomorrow and come a little earlier.” My nerves started to skyrocket because this time felt different. People were starting to pay attention to me instead of just Beck. I shifted on my feet, casting glances at the people who were boldly edging forward.

“Nope. We’re doing this now.”

Screw it. I could do this. This was the new and improved Astrid, and I wasn’t going to let my fear of attention get to me. Okay. It was time.

I was doing it.

But I didn’t hit record.

“What are you waiting for?” Beck said through a grin.

“Um,” I hummed, then went for it.

Hitting the red record button, I said in a shockingly firm voice, “Make me feel wanted.”

Beck, who had wiped the humor from his face once he glanced at the camera, was surprised to see me there. Then a devilish smirk took over his entire face as he jumped up and started belting “Take Me to Church.” Only instead of singing itabout her, he was singing it to me. His voice rang through the place, but that wasn’t what stopped my breathing.

He ran a few steps, then slid on his knees until he hit and hugged my legs. With an insane amount of flare and jolting movement, his hands gripped and released my thighs as he worked his way up my body, then started to crowd me backward. So focused on trying to keep Beck’s face in the video, I stumbled and started to laugh, even as he pushed me back onto the couch and followed me, bracing his hands on either side of my head and his knees on either side of my hips. Coming closer, then farther away, he rocked us while singing, until the couch flipped over.

I gasped, and he stopped singing, simply smiling indulgently down at me.

My harsh breathing was the only sound now, although I had a sneaking suspicion my rapid heartbeat could also be heard. At the very least, the video hadn’t escaped the tremor in my hands.

Bending around the camera, he kissed my parted lips, then lifted up. “I think my work here is done.”

I had enough working brain cells to hit the end button, then continued to lie there.

Beck laughed and crawled off the couch, setting it back to rights with me still perched on the well-worn cushions.

“I don’t even know what that was, Beck, but that was hot,” Jeff called from behind the counter. “Don’t do it again. That couch has seen better days, and I don’t want to have to charge you to replace it.”

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