Page 39 of Out of the Blue

“Hey. I like you, Cordy. I’m willing to dive into a relationship with you, if you’ll have me.”

It takes me a full ten seconds to swallow. “I want to, but I’m scared I’m going to fuck things up.”

He pushes my hair away from my face, keeping a few locks between his talented fingers. “How about this? Let’s try out this dating thing, but promise each other we’ll be patient if something goes sideways?”

God, I want to try with this man. But can I survive if I’m left again? He tugs on my mane. With my stomach churning, I step back and the last strands of my hair fall from his digits. Can I possibly do this?

How can I not?

He’s stuck by me, even with the crap I’ve thrown at him.

His promise to be patient appeals. As does he.

I extend my right hand. “Deal?”

His hand closes around mine. “Deal.” He draws me closer to him, and our breaths mingle. His full lips come closer to mine until they cover me entirely. Hungrily. I lower my hands from his back to his ass and squeeze as his tongue explores my mouth.

His hand slips in between our bodies and squeezes my breast over my clothes. Despite the fact I’m not naked, or maybe because of it, I moan. Beneath my bra, my nipples harden. I wrap my arms around his neck.

“Can’t wait to tell the guys.”

His words cause me to go rigid. But when he kisses my ear and his tongue traces its shell, I relax into his body. They’re his friends and he wants to share this news. I hope the black cloud that’s clung to me all my life doesn’t follow this decision. “Think it’s a good idea?”

His lips cover mine. “Damn yes. I want to shout it from the rooftops.” Then he kisses me senseless again.

His hand slides down my shirt and lifts it up, then delves into the cups of my bra. He pulls upward, and both my breasts are freed of their restrictions. He licks his lips, bends down, and latches onto one distended nipple. His teeth nibble while his fingers play with my other one.

“Oh my God.” His magic fingers make me need him more now than ever before.

He sucks, hard, and my core contracts. I grab onto his shoulders to remain upright. The desire to touch his skin overwhelms me and I repeat his actions in reverse. My hands slide over his torso, landing on his belt, which I open. Before my hand can delve deeper, a low pinging noise sounds below us.

What’s that? Ignoring it, I cup the erection over his pants.

“Cordy.” He bites my nipple and steps back. “We have to stop.”

Stop? Huh? “We don’t.”

He shakes his head like a dog, his dreadlocks flinging around his face. “We do,” he pants. “That was my alarm.”

Chapter 13 - Cordelia

We pause in the hallway outside the rehearsal space his alarm reminded him about. Trent brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses it, triggering explosions of excitement to scream down my arm. How can his simple touch do that to me?

Somehow I’ve agreed he’s my boyfriend.

While he opens the door wide and ushers me inside the conference room, I shove down all my doubts about telling the band about us. They’re playing a melody I’ve never heard before. When they see us enter the room, the music discontinues. Joey yells, “Check this out, Trent!”

I’m happy they’re more focused on their music than the fact their frontman is holding their social media manager’s hand. Dwight’s drumsticks crack three times, then the band starts playing a new melody. He squeezes my hand, and we come to a halt. My nerves ratchet up the longer we stand still, but he doesn’t look like he’s going to be moving anytime soon.

Resigned to this new form of torture, I absorb the music. It’s catchy, with a hard, driving edge to it. My head starts to bob in time with the beat. The song ends with Dwight doing a roll on the cymbals, then clamping them off into silence.

From our spot, I shout, “I like it, guys. Sounds great.”

Maurice moves away from the keyboard while Joey places his bass down on its stand and Dwight disentangles himself from the drum kit. In a low voice, I murmur, “Why don’t you go talk with them about their song?” I push Trent’s butt and he shuffles toward his band. I’m still standing near the entryway when my cell pings with Mr. Hewitt’s comments on my marketing proposal.

When he approaches, Dwight asks, “Did you like our new melody?”

Their lead singer swallows. “I did. Very much.”

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