Page 69 of Touch in the Dark

“Good, settling into the facility.”

“I figured you wouldn’t get your way. She’s very strong willed.”

“That’s her.” I agree. The Warwick guy wanders off, leaving us alone. Elsa’s eyes dip to my outfit and her cheeks tint before she lifts her eyes back up. “Like what you see?” Shit, I can’t help but flirt.

“Hmm,” Elsa puts one finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture. “I think it hits the brief.”

“Literally,” I say on a laugh. The first genuine one since I knew my grandma was safe.

Elsa chuckles too. She glances at the guitar still in my hand, then looks up at me. A small frown line appears between her brows as she studies me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask.

“I don’t know. You seem, sad, you definitely look tired.”

I’m a little off balance that she sees what no one else has. “All good,” I tell her defensively.

“Okay,” she says, but she doesn’t look convinced.

I try to push thoughts of Atwater out of my head. As far as I am concerned, that man isn’t my dad. Now that I know who he is, I’m not sure I want to find him, speak to him. He never wanted me so why should I seek him out.

“Nick?”

“Yeah,” I come out of the thoughts I got lost in.

“They’re ready for you,” Elsa indicates behind me. I turn to see Louis watching me.

“Shit,” I mutter. “Better go,” I tell Elsa.

“Have fun,” she says. “Break a leg, or you know, don’t.”

I laugh again and turn away from her, before I do something stupid like hug her, because she has put a little light in the darkness. I get up on the stage they’ve set up for me, there is a huge screen behind me and as I watch, it lights up with what looks like spotlights on a stage and a crowd, their arms moving. They want this to look like I’m at a concert. In my underwear. The fans are gonna lose their shit over this. That brings my mood up a little. I’ve never needed a father in my life to achieve what I have. I’m adored the world over and I did that on my own.

Head Above Water, our album titled number one hit begins playing over the sound system. I put the guitar strap over my shoulder, which has been tightened so that it’s higher than I would normally have a guitar, to be able to show off the underwear. It’s not plugged in, but my fingers automatically move over the strings, playing my part in the song. I start to forget I’m in my underwear and get lost in the music. It’s one of the few things I can always rely on to make me forget the shit in my life.

Between takes, I notice Elsa on the periphery, always there, always watching, and I start to get lost in her eyes, focusing on her as I move about the make-shift stage. Without even realising it, Elsa gets me through this shoot. Or maybe she does know, because she doesn’t leave, not once, nor does she look away. It’s about more than spectating.

There is something growing between us and I’m fairly sure neither one of us have any idea how to deal with it.

Chapter Seventeen

I don’t know what it is, but there is something wrong with Nick. I sense this air of anxiety to him, a tenseness that isn’t usually present in his demeanour. He’s quiet between takes, a lot of the time, he’s sat off to the side, strumming on the guitar, seemingly lost in his own world. But when he is on stage, acting out the thing he loves the most, he can’t take his eyes off me. And like a moth to a damn flame, I’ve stood there the whole time, watching him. It feels like he’s drawing strength from me and that if I’m to walk away from that, he might falter.

Why, I don’t know. I’ve always had this strange ability to read people, it’s like an affinity to people’s moods. Certain people at least. I can always gauge what people seem to be feeling by the way they project themselves. And Nick is troubled, upset, and I don’t believe it’s over his grandma.

Despite all of that, he is mesmerising on that stage. It’s like the guitar is an extension of him. He owns it, he owns the stage, the music, the attention of everyone in the room. I even heard Louis saying he was making magic up there and this is going to boost their brand into the stratosphere. It helps that he looks delicious, no matter what they put him in. At one point he’s in tight pyjama pants and nothing else, I’m not even sure he has underwear on underneath them, which makes me practically drool.

I’m not the only one. The woman who gave him her number has been loitering around too, watching him with hungry eyes. Everyone has been professional on this shoot, but she is making me uncomfortable with the way she’s ogling him. I’m not sure if Nick has noticed her, if he has, he doesn’t let on. I doubt he called her, he had a lot on after we left here the other day, but I can’t be sure.

Jenna’s words have played in my head on a loop for days. I’ve told myself to keep my distance today, but something about him, his aura, is drawing me in. At one point, it felt like we were the only two people in the room, the way we were staring at one another. I have this strong desire to get under his skin, figure out what has him feeling like this. And fix it.

Fearing that, I head back into the room I was working in earlier. I hadn’t specifically requested not to work on Nick, Arizona assigned him to Jackie because she worked on him last time. I didn’t read anything into it. I’d worked on a couple of extras that were drafted into the shoot, women who were modelling the female line, dancing to the music as Nick practically fucked his guitar.

God damn it, my body flushes at the thought and the imagery. That man in his underwear is lethal, while pouring all of his passion into his instrument, he’s deadly.

I’m done for the day so take the time to pack up my things. BreakNeck music is still playing so I figure they’re shooting some more scenes before they wrap. This is Nick’s last day on set. I’ll be back tomorrow to work on Tania Eckhardt’s commercial. I’ll miss it, this has been fun. Not least because I got to experience the other side of the camera. I’m excited to see the outcome of that shoot.

I glance up when someone slips into the room and shuts the door. Nick is there, fully dressed in his sweats and a t-shirt. He drops his bag down on the floor. He doesn’t say anything, and all the breath leaves my body. I can’t do this. I can’t let myself be sucked in by his sadness and whatever it is that has him this way. Yet I don’t move back when he stalks towards me. He doesn’t say a damn word, just lasers those ice blue eyes on me, his nostrils flare and his eyes darken. I don’t know what has gotten into him, why he thinks it’s okay to just walk in here and… And…

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