I nod. ‘Me too. I always wanted to write songs, but somewhere along the way ended up singing them too.’
‘They’re pretty great things to fall into, right?’
His gaze washes over me. I drink the moment down, replenishing a supply of this feeling which left a hole in my life ten years ago. This is a dangerous game.
‘Most people spend their entire lives dreaming and not making it,’ Luc whispers.
‘We are very lucky.’ Nausea crawls up my throat, settling behind the pulse in my neck. ‘I do sometimes have to force myself to remember how lucky I am though.’
‘I get that. On those days where it feels like too much.’
‘Like you have the entire world’s expectations on your shoulders. Like pushy parents but eight billion of them always asking for the next thing, the next tour, the next album, more music…’
Luc pauses for what must be mere seconds, but it’s enough to make me want to grab the words and force them back down my throat.
‘I’m not saying all the world’s population are a fan of me, obviously. There’s at least 7.99 billion of them who currently hate me,’ I laugh.
Luc shakes his head. ‘I can only imagine how hard that is.’
There is silence between us for a few seconds, and my mouth speaks without my brain giving it permission. ‘I always loved poetry.’
‘You can tell that in your music.’
I can hear the smile in Luc’s voice even though I’m looking at the back of Dennis’s head.
‘I’ve always loved all sorts of writing,’ Luc continues, ‘but poetry is something I’ve always found hard. But, like, refreshingly hard?’
This is a safe subject. Anything but about us. The roiling in my stomach settles somewhat, but another wave of nausea washes over me. ‘I know exactly what you mean. It’s not only a case of putting words on a page. You have to find the rhythm, the beat, even when there isn’t an actual melody behind it.’
‘A poem never feels finished to me. There’s always something else you can do to it,’ Luc admits, rubbing his own hands against his trousers.
‘Isn’t that true of all writing?’ I run my hand over my bare thigh. Laser hair removal was the best thing I ever did. ‘That’s why I still change my songs when I sing them – a note change here, a word change there. It’s all the stuff I wish I’d thought of earlier.’
Luc smiles, his eyes dancing in the street lights. ‘I thought it was. I love the note change you do in the bridge ofSlow Dancinglive.’
‘I was annoyed with myself for not recording it that way to start with.’
His gaze paints me in watercolour and goosebumps pepper my skin.
‘No, I like the original. But I love how fresh it feels and how special for a crowd it is when you give it your own little spin, you know, just for them.’
I hate how relaxed he makes me feel. He won’t always be here, and I don’t want to get used to it.
I’ve barely noticed us going through the gate at the end of my drive. I force my brain to get up to speed, to unbuckle my seatbelt. ‘Thanks, Kareem,’ I say, grabbing my handbag and making sure that my phone is inside. Dennis has opened the door on my side of the car.
‘I’ll walk you,’ Luc says, and he’s out of the car before I can protest that it’s Dennis’s job.
When I turn back, Dennis is watching from next to the car and Luc leaves his hand on the bottom of my back to guide me up the stairs.
‘You didn’t have to do this.’ My heart thumps, but I’m somehow flying.
‘Walk you to your door, or pretend to date you?’
‘Both.’ The word is out of my mouth before my brain lets it.
His smile lifts and he pushes his glasses up his nose. ‘Let’s do this again soon, yeah?’
‘I’m sure Mimi will be in touch.’
