Page 16 of Baking With A Rockstar

Well, what can I say to that? He’s got me there. Holding up my hands, I point my finger at him. “All right, I can’t argue with that. But now we’re even.”

“If you say so.” He keeps chuckling, and we go back to doing the dishes. After a few minutes, he’s the first to break the silence, his voice filled with sadness and frustration. “To answer your question, though, yes, I do write my own music. But it seems like I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block hit me out of the blue. It’s nothing I’m proud of, and no one really knows about it either, not even my bandmates. To be honest, I’m not even sure why I’m telling you all of this right now.” He shakes his head, not looking at me.

I try to keep my voice quiet and calming. I obviously don’t have any experience with this sort of thing, but I can imagine what a tough and vulnerable subject this must be for him. “And you think I can help you with that?”

When he turns around to look at me this time, his gaze is soft, holding an emotion so strong, my heart skips a beat. “You already have. Just spending time with you seems to do the trick. The second I saw you, I had music and words floating through my head.” He pauses for a moment, lost in thought. “I can’t even tell you how incredible it feels. Nothing like this has happened in the past six months. And even before then, inspiration never seemed to hit me this hard.”

Hudson swings his hands around in the air as he continues talking, his excitement almost palpable.

His words leave me speechless for a moment, and the look on his face as he recalls the experience has me slightly entranced. There’s no doubt about the level of pure joy he’s been feeling about this, and it’s almost infectious.

That feeling is crushed into a pile of dust though, as the realization of this whole situation hits me. Hudson needs me to save his career—or at least he thinks he does—and that knowledge settles in my stomach with a sour taste. A rush of disappointment makes its way through my body while I keep telling myself there’s no reason for it.

It’s great I can help him with his career, right?

I mean, what more could I want?

Chapter Seven

I can’t believeit’s only been twenty-four hours since Hudson dropped Mira and me off at the airport. When we got home from the bakery the other day, I got a phone call from my best friend’s mom, informing me that Monica had been in an accident. After getting all the details and the hospital info from her, I immediately went online to book a flight to New York—after profusely declining any sort of private air transportation or upgrades Hudson was offering me.

Thankfully, my nerves finally settled a little after I was able to see for myself that Monica’s okay—at least, as okay as anyone can be after getting hit by a car and needing immediate surgery for their broken leg, which was especially bad with Monica’s career as a dancer. But my best friend seems to be the same—loud, boisterous, and slightly inappropriate at times, if the male nurse’s flushed cheeks were anything to go by when we walked into Monica’s room.

My phone vibrates from where I set it on the windowsill, and I snatch it up quickly to silence it. Mira fell asleep on the way to the hospital, and the last thing I want to do is wake her up. Spending half the day traveling across the country yesterday—from Los Angeles to New York—and spending the night in a hotel didn’t make for the best sleep for either of us.

“What does Mr. Sexy Rockstar want now?” Monica’s eyebrows are raised as she waits for my answer. Her strawberry blonde hair is piled on top of her head, her green eyes looking a little tired on her pale face.

Sitting back in the chair next to her bed, I prop up my feet on the side rail of the bed. “How do you know it’s Hudson?”

She shrugs her shoulders, a smirk on her face. “Just a hunch, I guess. Am I wrong?”

I unlock the screen and shake my head. “Nope.”

“I knew it.” Her voice sounds triumphant, and I have to laugh at the big, goofy grin on her face.

“You’re impossible.” I roll my eyes at her, still smiling.

“What? Why? I mean, come on, give a girl something. I was just in an accident, and you know how much I love him and his music. And umm, you just fucking moved in with him.”

That comment makes me sit up straight again. “I did notmoveinwith him. You know I never would’ve taken Hannah up on her offer had I known it would be anyone but us in the house, let alone someone like Hudson.”

She sighs and plops back against her pillow. “Gosh, do I ever. You’d probably be the last one jumping on an offer like this. I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. Anyway, what does he want?”

I look down at my phone to read the message.

Hudson: When are you guys coming back home? It’s so quiet here without you. To be honest, it’s actually pretty boring. Grandma threatened to take me out with her squad later on if I don’t get busy. I’m officially scared.

I chuckle at his text. I mean, how can I not? Monica is surprisingly quiet, but I can almost feel the curiosity radiating off of her. I’m also pretty sure she’s trying to burn a hole in the side of my head with her gaze.

Charlie: We’re gonna fly back the day after tomorrow.

Hudson: Is your friend gonna be okay?

I want to call and tell him everything that happened to Monica, but I don’t think we have that kind of relationship yet. It seems like we’re on the way to becoming friends, though, despite our “muse deal.” I haven’t had real friends in many years—besides Monica, of course, but she’s been busy with her career and traveling ever since we graduated from high school.

Despite my earlier reluctance, I have to admit I like the idea of Hudson and me becoming friends. I love both Mira and Hannah to the moon and back, but it feels nice to have someone my age around to talk to.

Charlie: Yeah, it’s gonna be a while for her to get back to normal, but she’ll be okay. She’s gonna transfer to a rehabilitation facility in two days, so that’ll keep her busy for a little while.

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