“Of the way I feel for you.”
He drops his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to be scared,” he murmurs, “because I’m right here. I feel it too, just as deeply.” He brushes away a tear that slips free. “Okay?”
I nod.
“You’re mine,” he whispers, and my heart explodes.
“I’m yours.”
He pulls out slowly, and I feel his liquid trickle between my cheeks. Standing, he offers a hand to help me to my feet. Just as I turn to head upstairs, his fingers curl around my elbow, spinning me to face him. I giggle in surprise, my hands landing softly against his hard chest. Slipping a finger under my chin, he tilts my head, pressing a delicate kiss to my lips before pulling back.
That’s when he leaves his mark, carving himself into my heart.
He gives my bottom a playful tap. “I’ll make us some food.”
I watch as he walks towards the fridge, in all his naked glory, and I decide that I could very easily get used to having James in my kitchen every morning.
Chapter 39
James
After an eventful morning, one that fortunately ended peacefully, I head home to play my bass. The last few weeks with April have been euphoric. It’s beensogreat, I almost feel like I’m living in a dream I half expect to wake from at any moment. Whatever times not spent working or practicing has been spent with her, and it’s bliss.
As hard as the last few years have been, after all the shit my brother put me through, I’ve finally found a place where my life is starting back up again. Every day April and I spend together, getting to know each other more deeply, I feel myself falling further. It’s happened faster than I ever imagined. She is so unexpected. It’s this strange, exhilarating kind of freedom, like we’re both free-falling, yet somehow, together, we’ll land safely.
She’s gorgeous, intelligent, and funny, and every little thing I discover about her only makes me want to hold on tighter. The way she dances around the house singing when she’s happy. The way she steals glances and smiles shyly. The way her face glows when she’s excited. The way she speaks to Basil in hushed tones when she thinks no one can hear her. She awakens thoughts and emotions in me that I’ve never had about anybody before.
I finish up prepping some meals for the week ahead before picking up my guitar and running my fingers across the strings.
After a few minutes of tuning, I set into one of the harder songs we’ve been perfecting. I’m lost in a musical trance when inspiration suddenly hits me, and I pause. Walking to my bookshelf, I pull out my notebook, then head back to the sofa with my bass. I drop into the cushion, setting the notebook on the coffee table and flip it open to a blank page. Reaching into the coffee table drawer, I sift around until I find a pen. I pull the cap off with my teeth, spit it aside, and dive in.
I jot down notes and lyrics, spilling the melody from my mind onto the paper. I alternate between singing, playing, and writing, scribbling and crossing out notes until I’m satisfied with the sound.
Hours must pass until I come up for air. It’s dark out and my stomach grumbles in protest as I glance down at my notebook. Pages full of emotion and raw vulnerability that I needed to expose. A sense of pride swells in my gut and a smile spreads across my face.
I just wrote a whole damn song.
I wake the next morning feeling energised. The audition is next Friday, and it’ll run like a mini festival. The competition spans two days, with each band assigned a day and time to perform one set—ideally of their own music, and we’re playing day two. Bound to Oblivion and their management will be there, so we’ve decided to stick with our usual progressive rock sound. It’s our favourite, and it’s what the crowd will connect with. Only one of our songs requires a little more fine-tuning, but I think we’re ready to show just how far we’ve come. We’re up againstsome impressive talent, but I’m feeling good. And no matter the outcome, we’ll know we gave it our all.
I get ready for the day, load my gear into my car and head to Oliver’s.
Oliver’s place is out in Richmond. It’s lush, with sprawling greenery and paths along the Thames, not to mention some excellent pubs. It’s a great place to be in the warmer months. The lucky bastard had it made with a solid finance background; both his mum and dad were investment bankers, so they’re not short of a quid. They were gutted when he chose not to pursue law after earning his degree, and instead, chose to pursue a career in music. They got over it after seeing how happy music made him and witnessing the dedication he’s poured into the band. He’s an incredible drummer, and I couldn’t imagine playing without him.
I pull up, switch off the engine, and round the boot. The front door swings open, and Oliver strides out to help with the gear. He claps me on the back, greeting me with a quick “Hey.”
“Hey. The other guys here?”
“We’re just waiting on Will.”
We carry the equipment through the house, navigating our way to the garage next to the utility room, where I begin to set everything up.
Tom saunters into the garage with a sly look on his face. “How you doing, mate?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Good, Tommy,” I drawl. “You?”
“Not as good as you, apparently,” he says, leaning against the brick wall and crossing one leg over the other, fixing me with a pointed look. I can’t contain the smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth as I focus on untangling a cord.
“Oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” Tom teases in a playful tone.
