that hate has faded and all that’s left is the… love.
“No. I don’t think the song should have that fast a rhythm,” Jasper says, admonishing Gus. “I think this is more of a ballad.”
Oh my fucking god. Is he motherfucking kidding me with this?! “Jas,” I cut in, hitting the mic button on the mixer with a bit more oomph than necessary because I seriously think he’s losing his ever-loving mind. “What we already have down for this song is perfect. I promise you; it is. If you’d like to call in other producers to corroborate, I’m cool with that. But please, trust me when I tell you, this is not a ballad.”
He stares through the glass pane at me with a smile I can’t discern because this is Jasper Diamond we’re talking about here. “You really think so? You don’t think it might work better slower?”
NO! “I just don’t hear it that way in my head. But if you have a different vision…” Please keep it to yourself and figure it out for the next album.
His grin widens, his hand running through his reddish-brown hair. “I think we should at least entertain the option and see what we think in the end.”
Wanna know what I think in the end? I think I’m a dangerous second from ripping this room apart, setting it on fire, and storming out like the diva I have no right to be.
Instead, I force a smile I’m sure he sees right through and say, “It’s your song.”
And my funeral.
“You know, if you just gave forgave me and gave us a second chance, all this misery would end.”
“What?” I spin in my chair to face Henry because whenever he’s not in the booth, he’s right beside me in one of those recliners, invading my space and my mind and my sanity. He also smells really good today. Like epically good. And he’s wearing a green T-shirt that accentuates the green in his eyes. His hair is just a touch longer on top too. Just looking at him fills me with a rush of heat in places I seriously do not need to be hot so I typically don’t look at him. Only this time he caught me off-guard with that statement and now I’m looking and now I’m in trouble.
Henry smirks the smirk that makes him look like a mischievous bad boy and my heart lurches in my chest. “I’m just saying that it’s nice to have friends on your side who want to see you happy for a change.”
I think steam might be exploding from my ears. “You mean to tell me they’re intentionally dragging this out as a ploy to get us together?”
Henry chuckles at my enraged and incredulous expression, running a hand through his hair but when he does that, something on the underside of his left arm, tucked along his triceps catches my eye. I narrow in on it, inching closer because there is no way I’m seeing what I’m seeing.
“What is that?” I point only for him to quickly drop his arm when he realizes I saw his tattoo. His tattoo that was not there in Hawaii. “Is that a…” I hesitate, my mouth suddenly dryer than the desert, and I force a swallow, looking up into his eyes. “Did you get a dragonfly tattoo?”
His eyes rove over my face, filled with uncertainty. “I might have,” he hedges.
“Why would you do that?” I want to scream, only it comes out as a hoarse whisper. My heart pounds in my chest as tears burn the backs of my eyes. It was beautiful. The wings were shaded in blue and purple, the bottom of its tail slightly curved.
Holding my gaze, Henry slides off the chair and onto his knees, inching along until he’s right against me. Strong hands cup my face while holding me gently. He smiles, his eyes glittering as they stare into mine from inches away. “Why would I do that? Get a dragonfly tattoo when the nickname I’ve given you is dragonfly?” His thumbs brush my cheek. “Because I love you, Eden. My dragonfly. Because even if I never win you back, I still need you with me. Forever.”
Thunk.
My chest is squeezing so tight I can hardly breathe. “I… um…”
His eyes drop to my lips and he leans in with intent just as my phone rings from my purse, startling me back.
“Don’t answer it,” he commands.
I shake my head and in doing so, shake him off. He falls back onto