knowledge I need to know what will be prescribed, to know what methods to use, and to know how to treat patients when their medications have failed them.”
I raised my gaze to his and found his eyes boring into me.
“You did it for your mom,” he stated flatly.
My heart constricted painfully in my chest. I was a little unnerved that he knew me so well. “That was part of it, yes.”
“What are you passionate about?”
I smiled. “Music. Ancient history. And I’m mildly obsessed with cooking.”
“When you were a kid, what did you want to be?”
I laughed. “It was a toss-up between an archaeologist and a journalist for Rolling Stone. I would have loved to be paid to listen to music and write articles about it, about the artists. Lili and I made a pact that we would be a journalistic team. I would write, and she’d be the photographer.”
“Why didn’t you follow through with either of those?”
My gaze dropped back to my plate, my appetite now nonexistent. “Because. I just didn’t. I became a doctor instead. Rather than writing about rock stars and the music they make, I give people a way to live a pain-free life.”
“Would you go back and change it if you could?”
I gave him a self-deprecating smile. “I don’t know. Ask me again in ten years.”
“I will.”
I believe you. “I guess you’re living out your passion,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Well, at least one of us is, right? What does that feel like?”
“It’s the best. But then again, I’ve never done anythin’ else.”
“If you guys never made it, what do you think you’d be doing?”
“I guess I would have gone to college and into investment, like my dad.”
“What does that even mean?”
He laughed. “I’m not even sure. I’m a rock star, remember? I skipped college and toured Europe instead.”
“And helped write three of my favorite albums.”
“That, too.”
“What’s that like? I mean, what process do you go through to write music? How do you come up with the words, the collaboration of notes? What—”
He busted out laughing, and I felt myself blush.
“What’s so funny?”
“You sure you’re not an undercover journalist for Rolling Stone?”
“Oh, ha-ha,” I replied sarcastically. “I’ve got my doctorate to hang up in my office on Sunday. I’ll be happy to show it to you.”
“First of all,” he said, completely ignoring my sarcasm, “I love writin’ music. It’s one of the best highs I’ve ever experienced. When we create a piece, we go through a bunch of different processes. Sometimes, we write the music, and that’ll inspire me to write the lyrics. Sometimes, it’s the other way around. There are songs that just fill up my head, and since I know what it sounds like and they don’t, I’ll write it all out, and then they’ll tweak it. Jason’s such a shit with the tweakin’.”
“Only one of the best highs? What could possibly be better than that?”
He smiled wickedly, his warm eyes twinkling into mine. “Bein’ inside my Baby Girl.”
I gulped down some iced tea to try to cool the flames igniting inside. Damn, he knows just what to do and say to set me on fucking fire. Clearing my throat, I pretended my crotch hadn’t just melted.
“Are you the only one who writes the lyrics?”
“Pretty much. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
Because your words have power in them, and I feel it every time I listen to your songs, your music, your voice. To know that it is truly your words I’m listening to brings me a deeper understanding of your mind, how it works. Knowing this, I might never be able to listen to them again and not hear your soul.
Phil arched an eyebrow at me. “What are you thinkin’?”
“How do you come up with lyrics?”
“Depends on my mood. I record a lot of my thoughts on a small recorder. There are times when I’m never without one. I’ll just talk to myself. I play it back, and it helps me form lyrics. Other times, they just hit me, and I have to write shit down.”
“How long have you been able to do this?”
He shrugged. “Always, I guess. I think I heard my first song in my head when I was really young, like four or five.”
“What was it about?”
His eyes burned into mine, and I was near to suffocating, feeling his passion.
“It happened while I was thinkin’ of you. Only, I didn’t realize until this very minute…you’ve always been my inspiration, Kenna…my whole life.”
I can’t breathe. Oh God…I think my heart is going to spasm out of my chest.