Page 58 of What Happened Last Night

It made a crazy kind of sense. Musician sense. The Road Kings wouldn’t show their appreciation of Will with words or hugs. They wouldn’t throw him a party or buy him gifts. They’d show their appreciation by offering him the thing that mattered most to them, the thing closest to their hearts, the thing that in their world mattered most to everyone—music.

Not just any music, but music that, for a period of time, would belong to Will alone. Music he didn’t have to share with anyone else, except me, just yet.

Will turned to the board, touching the buttons and powering it on. He looked like he knew what he was doing.

“You know how to use a sound board,” I commented. “Of course you do.”

Another grin. Will smiled at me more often now, as if he was realizing he was allowed to. “I approved the schematics before we built this room. I know how everything works.” I smiled back, because I was dating a legit genius. Then Will played the first song, and I felt my smile fade into seriousness.

A chord was strummed, a chair creaked, and someone cleared their throat. Then we were swept away into a melody that was somehow mournful and sweet, yet not dark. The sound leaned more into blues than into metal, and Stone’s trademark tough guitar sound was understated, backing up Denver’s voice instead of overtaking it.

I couldn’t follow every lyric on a first listen, but the chorus made my heart squeeze. When you wake, I’ll kiss your cheek. When you wake, I’ll take your hand. When you wake, I’ll ask you why. When you wake, I’ll come back again. Every time, I’ll come back again. When you call, I’ll come back again. Take my hand, I’ll come back again.

It was a rough recording. There were missed notes, off-key lines, coughs, background noise. The song was only two minutes long, likely because there were more verses to be written. I was crying by the end.

We listened to the next song, and the next. Some songs were playful or sexy. Some were angry. Some told stories, and others were poems. Every one of them was magical, no matter how rough the recording, because I was hearing it here and now, in this room, alone with Will. With the band gone home to their families and the note on the board, in the quiet of the studio where the magic had been created. While we were all waiting for Neal and Raine’s baby, who was being born right now.

I got up from my chair and crossed the room. I straddled Will’s lap, hearing his chair creak as I settled into place. His arms slid around me, and then I was kissing him, wrapped in his scent and the feel of him, carried away. I loved his taste. His hand slid up my back and into my hair as he angled my head to kiss me more deeply, and I sighed against him. I wished I had climbed into his lap and kissed him like this in the job interview, the very first moment I met him. We had wasted time.

Will kissed along my jaw, then my mouth again. He was an incredible kisser, taking his time, making every second count. After the days we spent in Bend, we had done this quite a lot by now, but part of me still felt as giddy as I had the moment he pulled me into my closet and kissed me the first time. Even giddier, in fact, because I knew all of the delicious things that were coming.

Will broke the kiss and trailed his lips lightly along my cheekbone. “Business and pleasure,” he said, his voice soft. “I thought they weren’t supposed to mix.”

I smiled and squirmed against him. He was very hard behind those demure charcoal pants, and I could feel it under my skirt. “Should we christen this room?” I asked.

He stroked my back and dropped his head against my neck. “I would love to, but I would start to think about fluids getting into the sound board. Yes—there goes my brain. I’m thinking about it now. Very unsexy.”

I was shaking with laughter against him. I had known what his answer would be, and as turned on as I was, I agreed with him. Workplace sex made some people hot, I was sure, but not me. I had just wanted to hear him say it.

“We wouldn’t be the first to do it in here,” I said, just to tease him. “I’d bet money on it.”

Will leaned back and looked at me, surprise on his expression, then shock. “No,” he said, his denial so patent it made me laugh again.

“Will, they’re partly zoo animals,” I reminded him. “And they’re rock stars. At least one of them has definitely brought his girlfriend in here and—”

“Can we please not talk about where the bodily fluids might be hiding?” He closed his eyes, pained. “I’m never touching anything in here again.”

I slid off his lap. “Let’s get out of here, boss,” I said, taking his hand. “The work day is over. I want to get you somewhere private.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Will

When you live in a penthouse, it’s strange to say you feel self-conscious about it. But that was how I felt with Luna here for the first time. I couldn’t help but notice how my space was different from hers—how my sleek, modern design was nothing like her cozy clutter, how the size and the beautiful view might make me seem like an asshole. Maybe she’d think my place wasn’t personal enough. Or maybe she would think it was too personal. This spiral of second guessing was why I hated having anyone in my space.

I had never lived with Lizbeth, much to the surprise of everyone who assumed we would get married, including her. I hadn’t shared a space since I left my parents’ at nineteen. I’d never delved too deeply into why, but standing in my kitchen, waiting for Luna to come out of the bedroom, I knew. My space was where I was myself, where I didn’t pretend, and I hadn’t wanted anyone to see that. I wasn’t comfortable with anyone seeing who I really was.

What did that say about me? What did it say that I was nervous now, with Luna here, but that I was excited, too?

The bedroom door opened and Luna came out. She had brought an overnight bag with her tonight, because she was staying the night, because she was my girlfriend. She had changed out of her work clothes into evening sweats, because we were spending the evening together, because she was my girlfriend. This beautiful woman, whose face was quietly lighting up at the sight of me, was my girlfriend. My brain was still getting used to that. My body was way ahead.

Luna looked around. “Will, this place is amazing.” When I didn’t reply, only stared at her, she said, “What?”

I cleared my throat. “I’m trying to figure out how you look so sexy in sweats.” I’d seen her in sweats before. During our stay in Bend, we’d made a quick trip to Target after the roads cleared to pick up some clothes and underwear she could change into before going back to bed. I liked the after-hours version of Luna just as much as the Luna who wore dresses at work. More, maybe.

Luna glanced down at herself. She had changed into a tank top and a pair of slim sweatpants. “I think your judgment is clouded by the lack of bra,” she said.

“That’s definitely part of it.” I let my gaze linger on the front of her shirt. I’d had my hands and mouth on every inch of those breasts, and they hadn’t lost any of their fascination. The skin there was so warm, so sensitive. Their size was perfect, too.

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