“Sure, I can head over.”
“Awesome! You’re the best, Nora. Thank you!”
The line goes dead. I immediately pull the visor down and look at myself in the mirror. My brown hair is pulled back in a casual braid, and I’m not wearing any makeup. But I don’t have time to run home and try to make myself more, I don’t know, cool? Sexy?
Ugh, whatever.
It’s not like they hired me for my looks, and besides, I could spend all day preening before a mirror and still not look half as beautiful as their receptionist. It’d be a waste to even try.
I turn the key in the ignition, and the first song to come on the radio is “Crash Course,” one of Loaded God Complex’s recent releases. I’d typically change the station, but instead, I turn it up.
And I know it’s a bad idea as soon as Dex’s voice washes over me. I lean my head back against the headrest, and what he said that day in the parking lot rushes back.
Try not to fall in love with me.
My insides feel weird when I think about it.
“What an asshole,” I mutter, and then I back out of my spot and head toward the studio.
chapter 7
WHEN I GET TO THE studio, I head right in, and Morgan greets me from her usual post. “They’re recording vocals, but you can go on in and hang out.”
“Okay, thanks.” I give her a friendly smile, and she returns it.
As I head down the hall, I can hear hushed voices.
“He needs to push a bit higher here,” Naomi says, and Wes mumbles his agreement as I step through the doorway. “Dex, let’s run that bridge again.”
Pausing behind them, I look through the big window into the booth, and Dex is standing there alone, leaning into a mic, headphones over his head. He’s wearing a baggy tee with a long-sleeve shirt underneath and tight white jeans with a chain hanging from one hip. His usual backward hat has been replaced by a black beanie, and he’s wearing his sunglasses even though he’s indoors.
Part of me finds it sexy, and the other part wants to roll my eyes.
“Yo, Nora.”
I glance over my shoulder to find Michael sitting on the couch, a laptop propped open on his lap.
“Hey.” I smile, and he reaches out to give me a fist bump, which is starting to feel weirdly normal around this group. “What are you working on?” I ask, and I’m pleasantly surprised by how casual I feel as I go to sit beside him. Of the four band members, he’s probably the easiest to be around.
“Check this out.” He offers me the headphones he was wearing, and I slip them over my ears.
A second later, our song, “Ghost,” starts to play, and my mouth falls open. They’ve recorded the lyrics, and Dex’s voice sounds rough and haunted over the strings.
“I locked away my heart, too scared to feel the pain, but now I’m haunted by the memories that remain.I let her slip away, too scared to face the truth. Now I’m haunted by her absence in this lonely fuckin’ youth.”
It hits my solo, and I listen closer, trying to detect any mistake I might’ve made, but the notes land true.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, shifting the headphones to my neck. “That sounds amazing.”
Michael’s brown eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles. “Right? Just wait. Here, listen to this.”
I put the headphones back on, and he plays the song again, but this time with different notes layered over where my solo should be. It’s not strings, but I like the sound of it, and when I quirk a brow, he pauses the music.
“I’ve been messing around with your solo for the last week, and the crew agrees we should try this and see how it sounds.”
So, he’s the reason I’m back here again. “Did you write this song?” I ask, and when he nods, I give him an impressed smile. “You’re super talented. I had no idea.” I realize a second later that my words came out wrong, but Michael just laughs.
“Yeah, we all do a bit of writing—except for Lucas, that fuck—but Dex and I wrote this almost exclusively ourselves. I wrote the strings part, but if you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.”
“I . . . I’ve never written music before. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
He shakes his head. “You’re a musician; it’d feel natural once you started.”
“I guess I’ve never thought about it that way.” I take the headphones from around my neck and hand them back. “I’m so used to playing what others have written, I’ve never considered writing something of my own.”
The producers loop the bridge Dex is working on, and Michael and I go quiet as he sings the lyrics. He’s got a unique sound with an impressive range, and he hits a high note that makes my eyebrows rise.
Beside me, Michael chuckles.
“That’s the one,” Naomi says. “We can wrap it.”
A moment later, Dex walks out of the sound booth, and I try to school my expression into casual disinterest. He pauses for a fraction of a second when he sees me on the couch, then turns to Naomi and starts looking over her shoulder at the three computer screens she’s currently working on.
His lack of greeting feels like a punch in the gut, and I have to remind myself that I’m no one to him. It’s not like we’re friends or something. One cheeky comment on my Tribe page does not a friendship make.
“All right, Nora, you ready to get in there?” Naomi asks, spinning around in her chair to face me. Beside her, Dex leans back against one of the desks and bites his lip ring. I have to look quickly away.
“Yeah. Do you have the music for me?”
