To show good faith, I bite into my muffin. It is moist and smells amazing with juicy blueberries baked inside the golden-brown batter. “If you would’ve invited me over for coffee, I would’ve said yes. There wasn’t a need to pull this is what I’m trying to get at,” I say, taking a big bite. Crumbs fall from my lips and chin, but the taste is so out-of-this-world I don’t care.
He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he closes the plastic muffin container, pushing it away. “I can call another ride if you want to go. It’s cool. I didn’t—”
“No.” I close the distance between us and place a hand above his heart. “Can we enjoy our coffee?”
He nods, topping me off and pouring another for himself. “There’s a deck out the sliding glass door. Let’s check out the view.”
I follow him outside, and he isn’t lying. The view is breathtaking. I was too nervous in the car driving here to realize we were driving up the side of a hill. As far as the eye can see is Los Angeles.
Sully sits on the railing and nods toward the horizon. “That blurry grayish-blue thing is the ocean. Quite a sight, right? Way better than the condo the band is renting. Their view is of a wall.”
“My last apartment had a view of a wall. Couldn’t see an inch of the sky from any window. It was depressing.” I rest my elbows on the railing and sip my coffee.
Sully’s hand grazes my hip and settles on the small of my back. Heat blooms in my chest and spills upward, dizzying and sweet. I turn into him, breathing in the warm scent of coffee, blueberries, and sandalwood—softened by just a trace of mint.
His fingers slide into my hair as my lips skim his jawline and find his mouth. We pause, catching our breath. He tips my head back with his finger. “Do you want to see the bedroom?” he asks in a silky-smooth voice.
A pulse of want stirs low in my belly, humming through me like a lit fuse. But I manage a small smile and shake my head. “I’d like the coffee to settle in my stomach first.”
“Oh. Right.” He motions to the couch and we sit down. “I’m not using you for sex or anything.” The tips of his ears redden as I watch him sweat out his next set of words. “I just wanted your company. I like you and…”
“It’s not your fault. My ex liked to use sex to kill an argument. It killed the thrill of it. And with you…” I run my fingers through my hair, using it as a curtain to hide behind. “I know you’re going to leave LA to go home and I don’t want those bad feelings to return.”
“Abandonment issues,” he says softly, dragging a hand down his face.
My spine stiffens. “Excuse me. I’d callit—”
He waves his hand in the air like he wants to erase his words. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I know how you feel. Before the girlfriend who left me for a different bass player, I had a woman leave me because I was never around. Said I loved the road more and probably cheated on her. Turns out she just wanted to fuck her neighbor.”
“Who needs a relationship? Right now, my focus is on my career. I’m going to continue to grow my social media and land more gigs. There’s a mermaid show coming up in Miami next year and I’m super close to landing a cruise line as a sponsor.”
“I love your drive. It makes the green in your eyes shine like emeralds.”
“Says a songwriter.” I playfully punch his arm and bite my cheek to keep my smile in check.
“No. I’m serious. It’s good to love what you do in life, but don’t you want someone to spend it with? I want someone to share my life with. To be there for the good times and console each other through the tough times.”
“After reading enough romance novels, you start to think love only exists in fictional worlds,” I say, lowering my head so my hair veils my face.
He gently brushes it back. “If that’s true, then what is life but a bleak countdown to the end?”
I shrug. “With random bursts of happiness, but yeah, pretty much.”
He captures my chin with his hand and brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “How can someone who’s a mermaid for a living and brings such joy be so sad and dark?”
“Talent,” I mumble, looking past him to the painting of weird black and white lines tangling together in a gold frame. Whoever decorated this place has odd taste.
“Nein. Du kannst mich nicht täuschen, Schatz,”he whispers into the shell of my ear. His lips trail kisses along my jawline.
“What did you say?”
He smiles. “You can’t fool me.” He stands and takes my hand, pulling me to my feet. “I have an idea.”
He ushers me to sit on a chair at the kitchen table as he disappears down the hall. He comes back with his guitar.
My heart skips a beat as he takes a chair across from me and sets the guitar on his lap.
“You’re going to sing?”
