Page 41 of Next Time I Fall (Excess All Areas 2)

His eyes met hers, his palm cupped her cheek. “Yeah. As you said. Past tense.”

“How past tense?” she whispered.

“I’ve been thinking about that. I guess I’ve known for a while she was meant for Matt. You can see it when they’re together. I think I’ve just been a sore loser. Like the idea Matt won her love or whatever instead of me.”

“That feels like a wave.”

Jase placed his arm over her shoulder and pulled her to him, sliding his own legs out in front of him. “Yeah. I think it is. You want to know what else? I’m certain it’s past tense.”

“Why?”

“Because I met this girl who’s cheaper than therapy, more effective than drugs and alcohol, prettier than any sunset, and has a heart bigger than the lake outside her father’s cottage. I’ve been challenged on my shit my whole life and yet somehow never faced any of it. I think you’re good for me, Cerys.”

Warmth filled her heart, but her head was still uncertain. “I don’t know if you’re good for me though.”

She felt Jase’s sigh.

“Yeah. I get that. I’m not the safest bet.”

His fingers drew circles on her arm in the quiet.

“And I don’t want to be your rebound.”

He placed a kiss on top of her head. “I don’t want that, either. It’s too long in the past for you to be a rebound. But my brother and her ... it’s just raw.”

They sat in comfortable silence; her head nestled on his shoulder. Occasionally, he’d squeeze her arm, hold her tightly, or kiss her hair.

“Can we pause this for a little bit? This conversation?” Jase asked. “Things are getting muddled in my head, and I need a minute to sort them out.”

“Of course. Want to take a little time out? I’ll go see if the road has been cleared yet. If it has, we’ll head out, but if it hasn’t, we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours and try to work on something new instead. Perhaps write a different song together?”

Jase nodded and stood. He offered her his hand, and she took it as he lifted her easily to her feet. “I’m glad you ran me over.”

Cerys smiled softly. “Almostran you over, because you ran out into the road like an errant toddler.”

He looped one of her curls around his finger. “Errant toddler?”

Cerys nodded. “It was the kindest description I could come up with.”

Two hours later, Jase sat next to her at the mixing desk. He smelled of soap, his hair still damp from the shower he’d taken after a workout in her father’s gym. The road was still well and truly blocked.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked.

“I think the rule is how doyouwant to do this?”

“Normally, Matt and sometimes Luke, come up with a—”

“I didn’t ask how the band normally do things. There’s no band in here. This recording studio is yours. I’m your music tech. I’ll fill in instrument gaps. But this is all you.”

Jase tapped his fingers on his knee as it bounced up and down. He stood, then sat back down again just as quickly, his hands on top of his head as he blew out a breath. “Lyrics. I think I’d want to know the tone of the song from the words.”

Cerys grinned. “Lyrics it is. How do you want to come up with them? Are you a brainstormer, just throwing out themes? Do you already have an idea in mind?”

“Wait. Maybe not lyrics. Shit. Now all I can think of is the intro to the Artic Monkeys’ ‘Brianstorm’. That super-fast drum, explosive lyrics.”

Cerys reached for a notebook. “I’m just going to keep track of everything you say. Keep talking. I’ll capture it all. Maybe your way of songwriting is to verbally explode onto the page what’s in your head, then sift through it.”

Jase frowned. “But what if that doesn’t yield anything?”

---