Page 41 of Cadence
Her eyes grow wide with anticipation, her gaze flitting between my mouth and my stare. The heat between us is unbearable, her lipsright therefor the taking, and I can practically feel them already, hear her shallow breaths, the tremble in her exhale.
I shouldn’t want this.
I shouldn’t want her.
But I do.
She leans in, barely, like she’s wanting to see if I’ll close the distance, like she’s letting me choose what happens next.
Physically, Paige is beautiful, the drummer in the background with the wild auburn hair. And if we met in a bar, she’s the one I’d want to take home. But it’s so much deeper than that. She’s talent and music personified. She’s open and kind and letspeople close in a way that’s genuine. She smooths out my rough edges without trying, even when I fight to keep them sharp.
Paige Erikson might just be my downfall.
She swallows, the curve of her throat working through it so unbelievably sexy, and I tilt forward. We’re inches apart, her soft exhale coating my lips as I lower my gaze, catching the silver pendant around her neck, thePa mocking symbol of who she is.
I step back, every cell protesting as I do. Her hand slips from my wrist, the warmth of her touch vanishing like it was never there.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp. “I promise you, Paige, I never meant to hurt you.”
Lips parting a little, her eyes search mine for the lie, but I’m not hiding anything. But then she blinks, a breath catching in her throat, a wounded flicker resembling hurt flashing in her gaze.
“Goodnight, Maddox,” she whispers, voice thin, before turning and disappearing into the hallway, the door closing behind her with a soft snick that feels like a slam.I stare at it, at the place she was mere seconds ago, one kiss away from undoing everything I thought I knew about myself.
Chapter Eighteen
Paige
“Itwasprobablyoneof the best nights of my life,” I say, settling onto the old bench tucked beneath the willow trees. Picking at the seam of my shorts, I let the LA sun warm my face. “You know I’ve always had this rush hearing other people sing my songs, listening to the crowd chant them back to the artist I wrote them for. But being the one on stage? Actually living it?”
I pause, drawing a slow breath.
“It was…everything,” I whisper.
Even with everything that happened that night, I can’t stop thinking about how alive I felt up there. And in just a week, we get to do it nearly every night. New cities, new crowds…Maddox five feet away.
The adrenaline’s only recently faded, the echo of crowd’s screams now living deep in my chest, stitched into my ribs forever.
A soft wind brushes through from the field beyond us, the view stunningly picturesque from the bench, lifting strands of my hair across my face. I tuck them back, smiling as I close my eyes, replaying every second of the show last week. The flashing lights, the fans stretching out as far as I could see, the high like nothing else.
“I wish I could understand him, y’know?” Opening my eyes, I shift sideways, one leg tucked beneath me, the other hooking over the edge, fingers absently tracing the worn wood beside me. “I just feel like there’s something between us, like a spark or something. But it’s just socomplicated,y’know? I don’t know what I’m doing with him. One second, I want to throat-punch him, and the next, I find him looking at me like I’m the only thing worth watching on stage. And I feel his stareeverywhere,Penny. Not to mention, that almost-kiss…”
I half-laugh, half-huff, shaking my head to dislodge the memory of his hand on my hip. “It would’ve been a mistake if anything happened. Screwing a bandmate wouldneverwork out. Even if I do find the lead singer infuriatingly attractive.”
So why can’t I stop thinking about how his lips would have felt against mine? And why can’t I shake away the disappointment that I never got to?
My phone buzzes in my pocket, startling me, and I dig it out, checking the caller ID. I swipe across the screen, putting it on speaker.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, clearing my throat, along with all thoughts of Maddox Knox’s mouth, shoving it to the back of my head where I can’t obsess over it anymore. “What’s up?”
“Hey, honey, I’m making your favorite for dinner tonight and thought I’d call to see if you wanted to join?” Mom asks. “Your dad and I want to hear all about your first live performance.”
Pride radiates through the phone.
“Sure,” I say, pushing to my feet. “I was just finishing up here.”
“Oh, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
I shake my head, dusting the back of my pants with one hand. “No, just visiting Penny.”
