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Movers and Shakers

Page 23

by Elle Rivers

“I want my fans happy.” She said it like it was obvious.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. Blaze thinks you can help me and I . . . I agree. The only song close to being finished is about you.”

“Aboutme?”That sent a jolt straight to my heart.

“I can show you if you want.” She pulled out a notebook and opened it to a page filled with scribbled words.

I took it with shaky hands, reading it slowly. It was a love song, or so I hoped. If it wasn’t, it was the most charged friendship track I’d ever heard. As I made it through the lyrics, my eyes caught on one line.

“‘A man with a voice better than mine’—that line. What does it mean?”

“Oh, um, it’s about when you sing onstage.”

“You saw me sing onstage?”

Her eyes widened for a moment as I scanned through the last times I’d performed, trying to remember when she could have been here. “I heard you did. From a friend of mine.”

I tried to hide my disappointment. I wish she’d seen it herself.

“So you’ll make this about Blaze? As far as I know, he can’t sing.”

“I don’t know how . . . For now, I needsomething.”

“Did he come with you?”

And can I kick his ass?

“No, he has a modeling gig in LA.”

“He sent you here alone, then?”

“He said I could get my revenge for the waitress.” Her shoulders fell and she looked defeated.

“He’s an ass.”

“Maybe. But he’smyass.”

My fists tightened and my teeth ground together. I shouldn’t have been jealous of Blaze Matthews, of all people, yet here I was, wishing I was the one who was hers.

After years, I thought I would be good at being alone. I thought I would never feel jealous because I never got close enough to people to have feelings for them.

Lila was the exception.

To everything, it seemed. I should have said no and went back to my life of being alone. It was what I was good at, after all. But when Lila Wilde asked to spend time with me, I knew turning her down wasn’t an option. She’d been with me through everything.

“Let’s write more.”

She looked at me, eyebrows raised. I didn’t blame her for her confusion.

What kind of self-respecting man would let someone write songs about him and then use them for someone else?

Me.

Because I knew I wouldn’t sleep at night if I turned her away now.

There was a stupid, almost useless hope that if I showed her what a real man could be, she might leave Blaze.