Page 4 of Cadence
My body moves before I can stop it. I stand, slow and deliberate, closing the space between us.
“Never played at Finnegan’s? Or the coffee shop on 4th?”
I’m close now, too close that she has to tilt her chin to hold my gaze. She doesn’t back down, doesn’t shift her weight or shrink into herself, just holds steady, shoulders squared.
“No. Would it matter if I had?”
I don’t have an answer for that.
My jaw tightens as she blinks up at me, waiting for my reply, the brilliant blue of her irises becoming more vibrant the longer we stare at each other.
Would it matter?
I take in her face, looking for something—a tell, a flicker of recognition,anything—but there’s nothing.
“It wouldn’t,” Beau cuts in. Gripping my shoulder, he pulls me back with a wary look. “Let’s get you ready, and I’ll walk you through the set list.”
Paige holds my gaze a second longer before turning and heading for the kit, pulling out her sticks and dropping her bag by the stool.
Once she’s out of earshot, Beau spins on me, eyes narrowed. “Seriously? What the hell was that?”
Pressing my tongue to the inside of my cheek, I nod toward her. “You really don’t recognize her?”
He glances back and shakes his head. “Maybe there’s something. I don’t know? But what Idoknow is that she’s here to audition and she could be the one we were waiting for.” He pins me with a look. “So pull it together.”
He mutters something I can’t hear, fingers squeezing his ink-covered arm as he heads over to Paige. I slump back in my seat, grabbing her portfolio, my eyes scanning the contents.
Twenty-four. Four years younger than me. Not a huge gap, but big enough I’d think I’d remember her.
LA local. Figures, this city pumps out a hundred versions of the same person every week. But she doesn’t feel like a copy.
Graduate of one of the elite music schools in New York. Impressive, sure, but that doesn’t mean much to me.
Flipping to the next page, I scan her studio credits–some scattered gigs, a couple of names I vaguely recognize from low-budget projects, but not enough for me to pinpoint this feeling.
It’s there, though, right on the edge of my memory.
“You good, man?” Eli nudges my foot, drawing my attention away from her info.
I don’t answer, not right away. I’m not even sure whatgoodfeels like.
“I’m fine.”
It’s a lie, and we both know it.
Beau returns, his excitement wafting off him as he slips her portfolio out of my hands, already thumbing through it as he drops down beside me.
“This is it. I can feel it,” he says, and the words land heavier than I expect. For the first time all day, I don’t know if that excites me, too, or scares the hell out of me.
Chapter Two
Maddox
Paigeadjuststhestoolwithout hesitation, settling in like she’s done it a thousand times. I watch more closely than I did with the others, tracking how she rolls her shoulders, shakes out her wrists, twirls the sticks once between her fingers before she stills.
Her gaze flicks up to us. “Ready?”
Beau looks at me, and I don’t hesitate. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
