Page 29 of Hard Rock Muse
Julian took a step toward me. I stepped back.
“There’s always been a part of you in all my songs,” he murmured.
I stared at him, taking in his words, feeling at a loss.
He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder again. It was so similar to the other times he’d done it. So far, none of Julian’s touches had been too suggestive or erotic. It had always been a brush of fingers, a hand on mine, a pat of my shoulder.
But this time, his thumb traced a circle along my collarbone exposed by my scooped-neck shirt. I shivered, the heat of his thumb soaking into me. He’d always been warm, but now his skin was like a fiery brand, as if the whorls of his fingertips would forever be burned into my skin.
His thumb continued that slow, sensual motion. He ducked his head to look deep into my eyes. I’d worn flats, not heels. His towering height had never been more evident.
His scent surrounded me, whiskey and cinnamon, more potent than ever before with the sweat of the stage.
My head went fuzzy as I stared into his eyes. A storm raged inside them.
“Everly… Ev… I wanted to tell you…” He stopped, pressing his lips together, seeming to struggle for words. Frustration lined his mouth. He inhaled. Paused. Then he exhaled sharply. His eyes darted to the side and his head bowed, just like it did when he sat at his piano, as if fighting a silent battle with himself.
I pressed a hand to his cheek, his hair brushing my fingers. I urged him to look up.
“What?” I asked softly. “What is it?”
Puffs of hot air warmed my lips. I could practically feel his on mine.
“You’ve always been a part of all my songs,” he repeated, nearly stumbling over his words in a hurry to get them out.
We’d once meant so much to each other. Despite everything that had happened, was it possible he still felt the same way?
I didn’t know whether to jump for joy or run away screaming.
“I wanted to tell you that—”
“Hey man!” a cheerful voice called out.
I froze. I recognized that voice.
It belonged to a person I’d been pretending didn’t exist for the entire night.
Hidden behind his drum set, it had been easy. But now, backstage, with the rest of the members of Cherry Lips hanging around, I should have known it was going to happen.
I quickly dropped my hand from Julian’s cheek and backed away. His eyes turned pained, frustrated once again.
Seth Powers strode up to Julian and slung an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.
“I wondered where’d you run off to,” he said with a cheery grin. He turned to me. “Why don’t you introduce me to your—?”
Seth went still the moment his eyes landed on me. He swept his gaze up and down, a small line of confusion on his brow, as if trying to place where he knew me.
I wondered if I really looked that different without my pink hair, piercings and heavy eyeliner.
His mouth dropped in a slow O. I caught a hint of a grimace on his face, almost suspicious, before it turned to worry, then smoothed out into a fake smile.
“Hey, Ever,” Seth said. “Long time no see.”
