was. And I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about it yet.)
I wanted to trust him.
But that took time, right?
Instalike was definitely a thing. I wasn’t so sure about instalove, but maybe.
Instatrust? Not in my world.
I liked him. The trust would come, or it wouldn’t.
Meanwhile, I kept trying to remind myself that this was just a job—with yummy sex benefits on the side. Maybe it wasn’t just a forty-eight hour thing, but it was a six month thing.
Or very possibly less.
Chapter Fourteen
Cary
Heart of Gold
July
Taylor tapped on the door to the control room. It was open, but she waited for me to turn and wave her in before she stepped inside. She wore a soft, black T-shirt that bared one shoulder and shredded jeans, which seemed to be rare for her, her hair up in a knot. Her feet were bare, and there was something beautifully intimate about that, that we both came to work in bare feet.
She had two travel mugs in her hands and her laptop under her arm. I took the laptop for her and set it on her desk.
“Thank you,” she said, and her smile washed down on me like sunshine.
I watched her get settled, wondering how this had happened. How I’d ended up with this incredible woman in my life.
Ever since I’d told her about Bliss, I’d been dreading the moment when she turned to me and said, I can’t do this anymore. Or simply disappeared. Left a note or something, and a trail of dust.
It had been days, and it hadn’t happened.
The morning after that conversation, she’d seemed a little wary or something. Guarded. But then we ended up having sex on her desk in the middle of the workday.
That night, when I asked her, again, to spend the night with me, she did. And since then, we’d slept in my bed in the studio together every night. Last night included.
This morning, she’d worked on her laptop in the great room for a few hours while I was in here. I always missed her when she did that. I liked it when she was here next to me, even when we were just working, each of us with music on in our ears and not talking.
“What a gorgeous day, huh?” she said, when she seemed to notice I was watching her.
“Yeah.”
Honestly, I wouldn’t have noticed what kind of day it was before she got here. But since I’d opened the blinds on the control room window for her on her first day, I’d left them open. She seemed to like the light. I usually didn’t notice how dark it was in here. When I worked on music, I went so deep inside myself, I totally lost track of my surroundings. And yeah, I was aware that that was beautiful and kind of sad at the same time.
She handed me my Good Morning, Handsome mug, and I told her, “I finished listening to your vortex playlist.”
“You did?” She sipped her coffee and looked kinda nervous about that.
“I listened to it a few times, actually.” I didn’t want to tell her how many times I’d actually listened to it now. It was a number fit for a stalker. “I enjoyed it.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“Why wouldn’t I enjoy it? Helped me get to know you.”
“I thought you couldn’t tell anything about a person by the music they listen to.”
“Is that what I said?”
She seemed to think about that. “Hmm. Actually, I guess that’s not exactly what you said. And I don’t think it’s true anyway. Your vortex playlist definitely seems to say some things about you. I’ve listened to it, too. A few times. I love it.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
She smiled at me. “I’m totally not just saying that. There are some songs on there I wouldn’t have thought you’d pick, though.”
“No?”
“Well, I guess I shouldn’t say that since I don’t know you well. So how would I know what you’d pick? But Van Morrison and Bob Dylan surprised me, among others.”
“I see. Well. For me, if I’m making a deathbed playlist, it’s not just the song itself but the imprint it made on me. I have a very personal connection, a memory or a series of memories, attached to every one of the songs on that list.”
“Right. I get that. Most of the songs on my list have a personal attachment for me, too. And usually it’s a memory that involves someone I care about. It doesn’t have to be anything monumental, just