Page 76 of Rockstar Next Door Neighbor

Twenty-Five

Lila

The energy in Wild’s recording studio pulses like a living thing. It hums in the air like a song waiting to be played, and I can feel it thrumming through my veins the moment I step inside.

I sit on a leather couch behind the glass partition, watching five men who move together in sync, connected by invisible threads of music and years of friendship. Luke stands at the keyboard, his back to me, the slope of his shoulders relaxed in a way I don’t see often. He looks effortlessly cool and sinfully handsome in ripped jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Cass stands at the mic, eyes closed, as he works through a complicated harmony while singing the lyrics. Vince is tuninghis guitar, fingers moving like they’ve memorized every note in the universe. Sam sits nearby with his bass propped on his lap, plucking strings and listening intently to the vibrations. And Nate, the heart of their rhythm, spins a drumstick between his fingers, tapping a soft beat on the edge of his snare.

The band hasn’t even started playing yet, and I’m already mesmerized.

Luke waves, turning and flashing me a crooked smile that sends warmth spiraling through me. His expression soft but full of that magnetic confidence that always makes my pulse skip.

“Luke looks happy you’re here,” Kendrick says, her tone light but knowing.

I glance toward the band, where Luke is now fiddling with a few settings on his keyboard. “He’s just being neighborly,” I say, brushing off the comment, but I can feel my face get hot.

Kendrick smirks. “Sure he is.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifts. The banter dies down, replaced by a focused intensity as the guys take their places. Emily, looking every inch the band’s manager, stands near the sound booth, her clipboard in hand as she coordinates with the audio engineers. Her calm authority is impressive, and it’s clear she’s the one keeping the team on track.

“Ready?” Emily calls out, her voice cutting through the buzz.

“Let’s do it,” Cass says, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the room.

The next second, music fills the studio, and I’m completely transported.

“They’re something else, aren’t they?” Kendrick settles beside me on the couch, her eyes fixed on Cass as his voice blends perfectly with the music.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” I admit. “The way they just... know what each other is going to do.”

“Years of playing together will do that.” She grins as Cass stops mid-verse to gesture at Vince, wordlessly communicating some change in the arrangement. Vince nods, adjusts his fingers on the fretboard, and they start again seamlessly. “It’s second nature to them now. They don’t even need to talk—they just know.”

I nod, unable to tear my eyes away. It’s fascinating to watch how they move and connect; each note a thread in an intricate web of sound.

When the song ends, Emily steps forward, giving them a few notes on the tempo and transitions. She’s calm but direct, andher feedback is concise and constructive. It’s clear they trust her judgment completely.

I shift uncomfortably. “Are you sure it’s okay that I’m here? I don’t want to intrude on their process.”

“Are you kidding?” Kendrick laughs. “Vince brings a different girl every week. However, none of them last long enough for us to even learn their names. He’s a bit of a womanizer.”

I raise an eyebrow, glancing toward Vince. “Really?”

From her position near the mixing board, Emily rolls her eyes. “Vince’s last girl thought Sam was the lead singer.”

“That’s because she never actually listened to any of our music,” Sam calls through the intercom, making everyone laugh.

Kendrick laughs, low and easy. “Trust me, no one will blink at you being here, Lila.”

That sets me at ease. “Alright. I’ll just sit back and watch.”

“Luke’s never invited Crystal,” Emily says in a low voice, with a meaningful look in my direction.

Before I can respond, Luke catches my eye through the glass and winks. The simple gesture sends warmth spreading through my chest. He looks so natural here so in hiselement. His t-shirt clings to his shoulders as he moves with the music, and his face—God, his face when he plays—is like nothing else in the world exists.

“They’re working on the bridge for the new single,” Emily explains, her gaze lingering on Sam. “It’s been giving them fits all week.”

As if on cue, Luke holds up a hand, stopping the music. “Let’s try something different. Sam, can you drop that bass line an octave? And Cass—“

---