Page 25 of Forever Yours

“What other themes do you think there might be?”

“Maybe Broadway? Or movie themes? Christmas songs?”

It seemed she’d done her research, much more than I had. To be fair, I’d only signed up for this gig a week before. Despite my buddy being the host, I didn’t watch the show. I thought about spending a few hours watching some of last season, but the format was completely different, so I didn’t know if it would be a waste of time.

“Okay,” I said. “It makes sense to hold off on songs that might fit with a theme, but the clock is ticking. You need to decide. I’m fine with whatever song you choose.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll pick something that doesn’t work for your voice?”

I shrugged. “You’re not the only one who’s confident.” I’d been the chameleon of Misdirection, changing my vocal style to fill holes in the music. I could manage whatever Ali threw at me. Except maybe opera. That was the one thing I’d never attempted aside from “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

″‘Stay’ by Rihanna,” she said, surprising me with her definitive tone. “I’m calling it in.” She had her phone up to her ear before I could agree. I waited until she smiled at the end of the call. “Woot! We’re locked in.”

“Thank God,” I said.

“Sorry.” She seemed chagrined. “I’m not normally so indecisive. Now, the hard work begins.”

“Are you sure about that?” I asked. “Because the last hour has been pretty painful. Is it time for a break yet?”

“Hey!” She poked me in the gut, right in the part that made me yelp. I suddenly felt sympathy for the Pillsbury Doughboy.

Ali

I hit Play on my phone, and a tinny karaoke version of “Stay” poured out of my portable Bluetooth speaker.

Trenton frowned. “What key is that?”

“It says C major.”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t sound like it.”

I sighed. It was the third version of the song I’d downloaded, and Trenton was correct—it wasn’t right. I was sure the production team would get us a good version, but the girl I had spoken with said it could take a couple days. That was wasted time—I wanted to rehearse now.

Trenton lifted an acoustic guitar from a stand. “Play the original song again.” After listening to the first verse and chorus, he nodded. “Okay, just give me a minute.”

I hit Pause and watched as he strummed a few chords. It took him less than the minute requested to make the song recognizable. Abruptly, he stopped, and I wished he hadn’t. Not because his playing was particularly helping us rehearse—we hadn’t gotten that far yet—but because I enjoyed watching him. Even though it wasn’t his song, he’d taken on an intense expression while playing—he was all in. I was so glad my partner seemed to be transported by the music, just as I often was.

“I’m an idiot,” he said.

I laughed. “You managed to play that song on your guitar in about forty-three seconds. That makes you the opposite of an idiot.”

He put the guitar back on its stand. “The original song is piano, so I don’t know why I picked up the guitar. I guess it’s just my default these days.”

“I thought it sounded pretty good. Using guitar instead of piano would definitely put our own spin on it.”

He arched a brow. “I thought you wanted to play it safe.”

I tucked my hands behind me like I was a naughty toddler caught doing something bad. “Maybe I’m starting to see the error of my ways.”

He stepped toward me, a playful look on his face. My breath caught in my chest as he lifted a lock of my hair. “What ways are we talking about here?”

All of them.Only a fool would have fled from his bed like a thief in the night. Except it had been morning after a night I would never forget. From the moment we first kissed, Trenton had been generous, putting my needs and pleasure before his own, all for someone he’d only just met. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be with him if he cared about me.

It was a foolish thought.

I looked at him and found he was staring back expectantly. “Sorry.” My voice sounded husky. “I forgot the question.”

Chuckling, he dropped my lock of hair and stepped back. “Why purple?”

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