Here With You (A Laurel Heights Novel) - By Kate Perry Page 0,17

me."

"Fu—eff yeah, I would. All shi—crap's hit the fan here."

"That's what I pay you to handle."

"I won't have anything to handle if you don't have a contract."

Grif stopped pacing. "What?"

"The studio execs are getting nervous. You're supposed to be recording now, but you aren't anywhere to be found, and they haven't seen any music from you."

He raked his hair back, missing his cowboy hat. Wearing it as a disguise started as a joke, because the media called him the Urban Cowboy, but he kind of liked it. It made him harder to recognize.

It made him a hero, when he hadn't felt especially heroic lately.

He shook his head. "I'm working on it. That's the entire purpose of this trip, to give me space to figure out the rest of the album."

"Tell me you have something."

"I have something," he lied.

"Liar." Roddy growled. "Chase, you're giving me ulcers. You know this, right? My stomach is bleeding because of you."

He sighed, thinking of the notebook Nicole had given him to jot down ideas. So far it was a third full of stick figures with swords and Nicole's name over and over. "I'll get the songs done, and they'll be good. When have I ever let you down?"

"There's always a first time." There was a pause. "I wasn't kidding about the execs. They're nervous because you've suddenly disappeared. In their eyes, you're off somewhere having sex and shooting heroine into your eyeballs. You need to give me something soon, or they may cut you loose before you become a liability."

"I'm not going to become a liability."

"You know that. I know that. But the execs don't know shi—crap." Roddy cursed under his breath. "Damn it, that one was close."

Grif smiled. "You're a good man, Roddy. I won't let you down."

His manager sighed. "Where did you say you are?"

"I didn't, but that was a good try. Talk to you later."

"Damn it—"

Grif hung up, tucked his phone away, and started running back.

The thing about running was that it gave you time to think. Most of the time, he liked the space it gave him. Today he could have done without it. The pressure to produce a hit album wasn't atypical; the desire to stay with Nicole was. The sooner he had his song, the sooner he'd have to leave.

Picking up the pace, he headed back toward her apartment. He wasn't ready to leave. There was something between him and Nicole, something more than the simple friendship they'd known as teenagers. He wanted to know what that was and how deep it went.

He rounded the block and slowed to a walk the rest of the way to her apartment. Susan kept unusual times, leaving early one day and late the next, but she was always out midday. Nicole's hours were steady: she'd leave a little before eleven and return home after seven.

The apartment should have felt empty while they were gone, but the women always left him unintentional reminders of their presence. He smiled as he almost stumbled over the calf-high boots Nicole had kicked off in the living room the night before.

She liked all sorts of boots, short and high. He had to admit his favorites were the long red ones she'd been wearing at the wedding. At night when he couldn't sleep he thought about her wearing those boots and not much else.

No, that never helped him fall asleep.

Stripping out of his shirt, Grif headed to her bathroom to take a shower. As he walked through her room, he noticed one of her notebooks lying on her bed.

He stopped, staring at it. He shouldn't invade her privacy, but he knew nothing was going to stop him either. She'd been secretive about her drawings that morning they'd gone to Coit Tower, and he was curious. Nicole used to draw all the time, for as long as he could remember, and she'd always been good.

He crossed the room and opened it.

It was filled with page after page of sketches of women of different sizes and shapes. Some were standing, some reclining, but all wore beautiful lingerie that enhanced their shape.

He flipped through a second time, slowly, entranced. He didn't know much about lingerie except how to take it off, but to his untrained eyes Nicole's designs were exquisite. Romantic and colorful, exciting and flattering.

She had a gift.

He especially liked the one on the last page. Sheer black with a touch of frill, he could see Nicole in it. With her boots, of course.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his