Page 56 of Heartbreaker

And my heart hurts for him all over again.

I lightly strum the chords leading into the chorus.

“That,” he says, his face a little tight. “It’s that progression right there. There’s too much…twang.”

Twang?

“Excuse me?” I frown. “What does that mean?”

“It’s too country,” he says, waving a hand. “It needs a little more rock and roll to it.”

“Why?” I ask quietly. “What does that add to the song?”

“Everything.”

I arch a brow. “You do know that we’re writing this song for me, right?”

“I’m well aware.” There’s a note of annoyance in his voice that bugs me.

“If we were writing this for you, we’d need to make it more rock and roll. But we’re not. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a country-western singer. I don’t play rock, so why would we write a rock song?”

“Because the songsIwrite sell,” he says sharply. “And I have a few years of success under my belt. You know, like the song I wrote that won Song of the Year for you, in caseyou’veforgotten.”

“How could I forget? You bring it up as often as possible!” I glare at him.

“If you don’t trust me to help your career then why the fuck are we here?” he demands.

I put down the guitar and slowly get to my feet. “Because you got your boxers in a bunch over what I said in that interview and somehow, convinced me this was a good idea. But I appear to have made a grave error.”

“There’s a reason your record company wants you to buy songs instead of using the ones you write yourself.”

I open my mouth but can’t think of a response.

And honestly, that hurts my feelings.

“What a rude thing to say,” I respond quietly, trying to keep my feelings in check. “I think maybe I should go.”

“Maybe you should.” His blue eyes are as dark as…midnight.

As if he’s truly angry.

And I’m not sure what I’ve done to evoke such a reaction.

I glance out at the four feet of snow we’ve gotten and realize I’m not going anywhere, except maybe to my room. “Mother Nature seems to have her own ideas about my leaving. But don’t worry—I won’t bother you with my silly little country songs anymore.” I turn on my heel and stomp into my room, slamming the door behind me.

That was childish.

But I don’t care.

He’s such a jerk.

I can’t believe I keep falling for his act the moment he says or does something sweet. I have to remember that the only person Royal Ewing cares about is himself.

Now I’m stuck in this damn cabin with him until the weather lets up, and even after it stops snowing, it could be a couple of days before we’re shoveled out.

It’s going to be a long few days.

I sink onto the bed, staring out at the bleak white landscape that’s illuminated by the exterior lights. Earlier, it was so pretty and inspiring. Right now it’s just a big blob of nothingness. Much like my heart.

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