But despite my best efforts,becauseof my best efforts, my worst nightmare was coming true.
“You’re looking pretty wound up,” Zain said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I had barely noticed him clomping down the stairs to the practice room in the basement of our mansion.
Theirmansion. It wasn’t mine. I didn’t live there anymore.
“Did the label do something to freak you out again?” he said, taking a seat on a stool at one of Kay’s drum sets. “I know there’s always an exec or two who keep calling and bugging you.”
“No,” I replied.
I tended to field all calls from the label so the others didn’t have to deal with their bullshit. It wasn’t the label bothering me this time, but Zain could still tell something was up.
I didn’t know what to do with myself, full of nervous energy and resisting the urge to pace. It left me standing dumbly in the middle of the room with my arms hanging at my sides, shoulders tight and fists clenched.
“Did something happen with another band in the recording studio, then?” Zain asked.
“No.”
He went silent for a moment then spoke up.
“You want to talk about whatever it is?” He sounded sincere. “It might help.”
I pinned him down with a stare. “I thought you were the one who hated it when we pulled that psychotherapist bullshit.”
Zain held his hands up, backing off and getting up to walk over to the guitar stand.
“Fair enough,” he said over his shoulder. “Forget I said anything.”
Shit. I hadn’t meant to get pissy with him. I took off my glasses and rubbed at the bridge of my nose.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs again, softer this time but with a slight bounce to them. My stomach swooped.
I could recognize Kay by the sound of her steps. Just like I could tell it was her when she came up from behind me by her vanilla scent.
“Hey Zain, hey Micah,” she said breezily.
A part of me wondered if it would be like old times, if she would take my arm and drag me over to the sofa so we could sit next to each other.
I held my breath.
She passed right by me without a second glance.
I was stupid for being disappointed. Space was exactly what I’d wanted, wasn’t it?
Just not like this. Not with Kay being angry with me.
“How’s that solo working out?” she asked Zain, sitting down at the drum set closest to him.
She began idly swiveling back and forth on the stool. She was wearing light blue denim jeans that hugged her every curve, and her crop top exposed a strip of skin, showing off the delicious curve of her lower back every time she spun around.
What would it be like, to run my hands up that tantalizing curve? I just knew her skin would be soft, and warm. She would arch her back under my touch with a whimper and…
I swallowed hard, mentally blinking the images away.
Dammit. I was so fucked.
How was I supposed to keep our friendship intact when I needed to put as much space between us as possible? How was I supposed to keep space between us when I wanted her so desperately? How could I want her so desperately when I could list a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t?