Page 57 of Sweet Surrender

“Writing some of the new stuff?”

He nods. “Yeah. It’s just a song.”

“I like it.” I wave at the doorway. “I mean from what I heard, anyway.”

“It’s shit.”

“I have a feeling you’d say that about any song regardless of how good it is. You’re hard on yourself.”

“Someone has to be.”

“Can we talk about before? Earlier?” I ask.

“It’s over. I don’t hold grudges over petty shit,” he says and then hangs his head for a beat before looking back up at me. “I know. I get it. It wasn’t petty to you. But grudges aren’t my style.”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t apologize about my freak-out earlier. I know you’re used to your privacy being invaded, but clearly I’m not. It was hard finding out that you’re the one who orchestrated it. You’re right with what you said though—that I signed up for this—but I was too blindsided to see it. It’s apparent that I need to get thicker skin or stop—”

“Worrying about what everyone thinks and own everything you are?” He lifts his eyebrows. “Pretty much.”

“Easier said than done.” I roll my eyes as I come back near him and his drum set. “I’m far from perfect and I look at this whole thing as a growing experience for me. I’m going to make mistakes and am adult enough to admit it, so can you just accept my apology so we can move on?”

“No.”

“No?” I cough out a laugh.

“I won’t accept it. I should be the one apologizing. I should have told you what was going on, and I didn’t because I selfishly wanted it to look authentic and real and like you actually like me.”

“Actually like you?” Is he for real?

“That’s what I said.”

We stare at each other across the space. It’s obvious we’re both trying to make this unexpected, awkward situation work.

“Fine. We’ll call it even. You apologized. I apologized . . .”

“But?” He lifts his eyebrows and fights the smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“But don’t mistake me trying to find my footing in this new setting as a chance for you to be a dick.” He barks out a surprised laugh and then reins it back in. “I didn’t like the man who showed up in the hall earlier. The one who sought out ways out to be rude and hurtful. It was almost as if you were putting me in my place for reasons that validated you, but that I sure as shit didn’t understand. He was a prick and nothing like the man I’ve gotten to know and like.”

His grin returns. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m sexy all the time,” I joke, completely uncertain where that came from.

His laugh roars through the studio. “There’s that confidence I need to see more of from you.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes as my cheeks heat.

“I’m serious. Let the world see this woman, the one I get, and not the crazy one who you were earlier.”

I nod. “Touché. Point made.”

“Fair is fair,” he says as he approaches me and holds his arms wide. “Now we need to hug it out.”

“Hug it out?”

“Yes. What two self-respecting adults do when they own their mistakes.”

And before I can refute him, he engulfs me in his arms. I’m met with the scent of his cologne and soap, with the warm feel of his bare skin against my cheek, and the firmness of his arms as he tightens his grip on me.