“I couldn’t exactly block my ears.”
“Well… you could’ve announced yourself the second you woke up. You could’ve stopped me!”
“If I had, I never would’ve found out you can sing like that.”
He sounds totally unapologetic as he slides out from behind the table and finds his feet. He sways a bit and I reach out automatically to steady him, my hand clamping down on his forearm.
I hear him suck in a sharp breath as my cool fingers make contact with his warm skin. I’m achingly aware of this single point of contact where our bodies meet; of how close we’re standing, alone here in this empty room in the middle of the night.
I’m not the only one struggling to catch my breath as the moment lingers, neither of us moving so much as an inch. We are two hair-triggers in a shootout, holding each other at gunpoint.
No sudden moves.
One shot and you’re dead.
I glance up into his face and find him staring down at me with those fascinating two-tone eyes. They lock on mine like a tractor beam, their pull even stronger at this close proximity. I remember the technical term from high school biology —heterochromia iridium. But no grainy textbook photo could ever do these eyes justice. The left is so startlingly blue; the right almost entirely brown except for a small mote of aqua in the upper corner of the iris.
Seven billion people on this planet, and I bet not one of them has eyes quite like his.
There’s a crazy heartbeat of time when Ryder’s gaze drops to my mouth, his pupils dilating with something that looks like it might be desire. He sways forward, just a fraction of an inch. And maybe I’m going crazy… maybe he’s still unsteady from all the whiskey… but if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he’s about to try and kiss me.
It’s such an unexpected move, I’m instantly freed of his spell. Releasing him, I retreat back a few steps.
“You good?” I ask, blushing furiously. I focus on his chin so I don’t have to meet his eyes.
He nods, staring at me with an unreadable expression. He looks almost as rattled as I feel inside.
“Great.” I carry the empty bottle of Jack Daniels toward the bar, hoping he might simply vanish into thin air if I ignore him. I should know better.
There’s no ignoring Ryder Woods.
“There’s fire in my blood. A beat in my veins…”he sings, his voice smooth and strong, cutting into me like a blade to the heart.“The forecast tonight calls for nothing but pain.”
I freeze halfway to the bar. I’m not sure whether it’s merely the effect of hearing him sing words I wrote or the slight tweak he’s made to the lyrics… but it sounds utterly perfect. Better than ever. Before I can stop myself, I whirl around to look at him. My eyes are wide, my heart is racing.
“The forecast tonight calls for nothing but pain,” I echo back, testing out the new verse, too excited to feel self-conscious about singing in front of him. “Oh my god, that’s it!”
Tucking the bottle under my arm, I yank the ordering pad from my apron and quickly scribble down the words before they disappear from my mind.
“Glad to be of service,” Ryder drawls, walking up to me. “When can I expect my advance for the co-writing credit?”
I roll my eyes at him.
“Fine — I’ll settle for a shout-out in the liner notes of your first album.”
I flat out laugh in his face.
His eyes glint with a teasing light. “Don’t make me sue you for copyright violation.”
“First of all, you’re so drunk you probably won’t even remember this conversation in the morning, let alone the fact that you helped with aminorlyric change.” I tilt my head. “I think I’ll take my chances with the law.”
He makes apffftsound, but doesn’t contradict me. “And secondly?”
I shove my ordering pad back into my apron and walk to the bar. “Secondly… even if I liked you enough to do a shout out in the liner notes… which I don’t, for the record… There isn’t going tobeany album. I don’t sing in public. Ever.”
There’s a loaded silence as he processes my words.
I make myself busy, tossing the empty bottle into the trash bin, storing the disinfectant table spray in its spot beneath the sink, grabbing the keys from the drawer by the register. When I run out of tasks, I can no longer ignore him. I turn, eyebrows raised, and find he’s leaning against the bar, watching me with an inscrutable expression.