heart and I’m trying. Even if it makes me the asshole. The bad guy.
I’m doing this for you, Eden. For both of us.
I walk back to my house without a backward glance or even a word of goodnight. And never in my life have I been so horrified with myself while simultaneously feeling so complete.
Fifteen
EDEN
Notes flow through my head, my mind desperate to catch each one. I’d say nothing else is breaching my consciousness, but that would be a lie. That said, I’m doing everything I can possibly do not to think about him and all that transpired between us last night. Especially when my mind needs to be occupied by other things. Like this music I’m listening to.
Yes, this music is all I should be focused on.
Last night did accomplish one thing I was after. It took the stress I was feeling and zapped it out of my body. For ten glorious hours, I was right as rain. I slept. I woke with a smile of anticipation. Then we entered the studio and all that Zen I had been rocking went to hell in a handbasket.
But no more about that. Or him.
I’m sitting on a chaise that’s about ten feet from where the waves are breaking on the shore. There’s a mostly eaten Cobb salad and a half empty margarita on the small table beside me. And the sun. The glorious sun is shining down on my SPF 50 lathered body, warming me through and through.
I mean, it’s workcation, right? No sense in not indulging in all this place has to offer me while I work.
But this song. It’s the one we finished up this morning in the studio. Day one was a success. Tomorrow we will start a new song, so I have to make sure this one is perfect before we can do that, or I’ll find myself buried too deep by the end of this.
Movement on my left has my eyes popping open. Naomi is heading my way, dropping her surfboard into the sand and grabbing the towel from the chaise on the other side of the table that’s dividing us.
“Hey,” she says, wringing out her nearly black hair and wrapping herself up in her towel. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
If the fact that my brother is a world-famous rock star and I get to work for Lyric Rose and with Cyber’s Law isn’t a big enough trip, the fact that I am quasi friends with Naomi Kent is. Chick is a superstar, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t worship her. Growing up, my walls were plastered with her posters—something Keith likes to tease me about in front of her. I am not an easy fangirl, but every time she talks to me, I swear, I forget how to form coherent sentences.
“You didn’t,” I tell her, pausing the track. “I’m just listening to what we did this morning. Making sure it’s perfect.”
“I love that you guys are doing this here. Gus said you’re not messing around either. That you worked their assess off all morning.”
A surge of pride swells through my chest at that.
“Would you mind?” I ask with a hopeful, yet hesitant tone, wiggling my phone in her direction.
“You want me to listen? Sure. Of course. I’d love to.”
Yeah, Naomi is also the sweetest thing on the planet. Her and Viola both. Hard not to love these women when they are legit the coolest, most easy-going peeps.
“Thank you. I think at this point I’ve listened to it too much, you know? I can’t tell if the tempo’s too fast or if I’ve officially just gone insane.”
“I get that. Sometimes you need to take a step back because you’re too close to your work. I doubt it’s too fast, but I’m happy to tell you my opinion.” She eyes my food and then her head whips around and she finds a passing waiter, ordering the same thing I was having. Turning back to me, she shrugs, smiling ruefully. “I don’t start fertility treatments until we get home. It may be my last chance for a drink for a while.”
I snort out. “You don’t have to justify it to me. I’m right there with you.” I hold up my drink, giving it a little shake and taking a long sip.
“Thank god for that.” She laughs, settling down onto her chaise. Rolling onto her side so she can face me, she says, “Okay, cue it up.”
I play the song for her, watching