Page 46 of Where Happiness Begins

Maybe he and I aren’t so different after all.

Chapter 19

“Cheers to a second record!”

We all clink our glasses at Ethan’s celebratory statement, the Irish pub loud and alive around us. It’s packed for a Tuesday night, probably because of the live music happening in the opposite corner of the restaurant.

“Thanks for allowing me to experience this with you guys,” I say before I take a sip of my ginger ale.

They’ve only worked on one song today, but they’re off to a great start. As amazed as I was to see them in concert, witnessing their creative process in the studio is even more impressive. The way Joe would come up with a random guitar riff on his own, and Ethan would find lyrics on the spot, and Bong would test two or three different beats on his drums, and suddenly, there was a chorus. Agoodchorus. I’d never witnessed such raw talent in the same room, and I spent the entire day with my jaw open, forgetting to record content because I was too busy trying not to fangirl.

But my biggest surprise of the day was Carter. The ideas he came up with, the instructions he gave that instantly elevated the melodies, the sheer focus in his eyes as he put the headset on and dipped his chin slightly with the music only he heard… Icouldn’t tear my eyes away. It was mystifying to behold his talent, to realize how he’d sometimes make something out of nothing as if using magic. It was all too much for someone who’s trying her damnedest not to be attracted to her fake husband. I’d rarely seen anything sexier than Carter acting the perfect, professional producer, so into his job that an earthquake might have ripped through the room and he wouldn’t have noticed. Attending today’s recording session was both one of the most fun experiences of my life and a big, big mistake.

Still, I shot content for him too. After all, he’s the one who’s supposed to benefit from this arrangement. He told me earlier how he’s been offered to produce for another promising band as if he wanted me to know that a part of our plan was working. I might have shrieked a little.

“Of course,” Ethan says, then turns to Carter. “The first album could’ve put us on the map, but this one will really define us as a band.”

“If the first one doesn’t flop,” Joe says, making us strain to hear.

“Don’t say shit like that,” Bong answers. “We’re doing well.” Then he leans his head on my shoulder. “Partly thanks to our beautiful Lil. You got me twenty thousand new followers.”

I laugh, resting my head on his while I feel Carter reaching behind me to Bong, then lightly pushing him away. “Keep your paws to yourself.”

“There’s the caveman I was waiting for!” Bong replies.

“Fuck off.”

This exchange only makes me laugh more.

“What’s so funny?” Carter whispers in my ear from his seat next to mine, voice gruff, sending a ripple of chills down my back.

I turn and almost jump at the realization that he’s this close. Our noses are almost brushing, his breath warm against my skin.

“You,” I mouth.

Like this, it’s as if we’ve cocooned ourselves from the cacophony of the table and the restaurant, like we’ve become invisible to everyone else.

Clearly, though, we’re not.

“Hey, keep it to your bedroom.”

My face flushes faster than the time it takes for Bong to finish his sentence, and I spin back to face everyone, doing my best to act as if the words he just used have disappeared into thin air. Meanwhile, I wait for Carter’s rebuttal of Bong’s statement, hoping I won’t hear disgust or incredulousness in his voice at the thought of truly being with me. Since he’s been nothing but the perfect gentleman at home—at least in terms of physical contact and sex—I don’t know how he views me, but I like to think he acts this way out of respect and not because he couldn’t fathom being with me.

However, the only thing Carter ends up saying is, “Again, fuck off.”

I chuckle, but this time, it’s not as lighthearted. Everyone seems to be wondering why he didn’t outright deny it, including me. The longer the guys stare at us with weird smirks, the warmer I feel.

“Did you guys know Carter plays the guitar?” I blurt, hoping something, anything, can take the attention away from me.

It works.

Faces turn from confusion to amusement. “Dude, are you serious?” Emmett asks me, putting his beer down with a heavy thud.

“Yeah?”

He turns to Carter. “You haven’t told her?”

“Told me what?”

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