Chapter Four

Jaya

My body was shaking. It had been years since I’d suffered from stage fright, but singing in front of Cardinal was bringing all my insecurities, all my fears to the surface, and I swallowed a catch in my throat before my voice cracked on the chorus.

When we finished the song for the third time, I glanced to the piano, waiting for his instruction. Already he had taken my song and made it a masterpiece. Willingly, I’d follow any direction he' gave, any advice he offered. And oddly enough, I trusted him. Because if he had wanted to, he could have come after me legally when I’d released his song. But he hadn’t done a thing. He’d moved on. So when he said he would help me, he would stand by his word.

And it stung, knowing that he could be trusted.

And I couldn’t.

It made me want to make it up to him, but I had no idea how in hell I could do that.

“Let’s start again, but this time no music. I’ll add in my melodies and harmony now. We need to work on blending.” He stood and walked toward me. His hair wasn’t twisted up into his signature flame style; rather, it was soft and tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it all night. My fingers itched to test the texture of the strands, so I fisted my hand to keep from doing something stupid.

“Sounds good.” I took a deep breath and waited for him to pause a foot or so away.

“Face me. I need to hear your full tone so I can measure mine against it and vice versa.” He nodded once, and I adjusted my position then started to hum the first note.

He followed, carrying his tone a third above mine in perfect pitch. His presence was so distracting I closed my eyes to focus on the music. And I started to sing.

Letting go, it’s time to fly.

Testing my wings, it’s do or die.

I waited, my whole body tight with anticipation to hear Cardinal sing. His bluesy tone was effortless yet edgy all at once. My body swayed before I could stop myself. Damn, that man could sing.

You cut my wings, told the lie.

I should have known I’d never fly.

We continued to tag team the first verse, then as it built into the chorus, I blended into his tone, melting into the music as I arched my voice above his in the perfect harmony we’d worked out yesterday. Goose bumps prickled along my arms as his voice twisted around mine, caressing it, calling to it, branding it.

And we’d never once even touched.

As the song continued, my body smoldered as I kept my eyes closed, giving myself over to the tune as an extension of myself, living it out with my voice as it practically made love with Cardinal’s smooth and commanding tone while we reached the climax of the bridge. My heart pounded, my body shook, and I opened up my voice in a way I had never experienced, the strength a sharp contrast to the texture of Cardinal’s tenor as we gave the last chorus a decrescendo. A tear slid down my face as we sang the last line one more time.

It was a holy silence that followed, and I breathed it in.

Drew life from it.

Blinking slowly, I focused on Cardinal’s face.

Intense blue eyes searched mine, but the hard cynicism was missing, seemingly replaced with open curiosity and respect.

Damn, it was like Kryptonite.

And all over again I cursed myself for screwing it up with him, because I really wish I had stayed to find out where that morning would have taken us.

“Decent.” He nodded, but his body language said his words were an understatement. His forearms were flexed, his hands in tight fists, goose bumps dotting his tatted arms.

“What next?” I asked, my voice sounding aroused to my own ears.

His gaze darkened and flickered to my lips before he glanced to the piano. “Let’s try it again and lay down a starter track.”

“Sounds good.” I tried to calm my feverish body as he set up everything in the booth then joined me again.

The intro track clicked the beginning of the music, and I stepped up to the microphone, breathing deep, centering myself.

And if I’d thought it would be less powerful the second time around, I was sorely mistaken. The music added another layer that tore through me, demanding everything I had to give. Cardinal’s voice was every bit as alluring, every bit as sexy and arousing, so that by the time we finished, sweat trickled down my temple, desire pooling in my belly.

I glanced to Cardinal, desperate to find out if I was the only one affected in such a visceral way. But he simply raised his hand to his lips in a silence gesture and moved to the sound booth again.

When he returned, his expression was tight. “So, I’m not one to be overly optimistic, but I don’t know how we could improve on that take. We need some background harmonies that we can lay down this afternoon, but why don’t we break for lunch for a while?” His gaze flickered to my eyes then away.

Disappointment and pride battled throughout my body. Pride, because we had accomplished a perfect track first time. Basically, like seeing a unicorn in the wild. But disappointment, because apparently, I was the only one affected by the charge in the air. I couldn’t ignore it, even though I was going to try my damnedest. “Sounds good.”

“Great.” He rubbed his hands together then slipped his earphones on and left.

Sighing, I walked into the sound booth and lifted my purse. A piece of paper tumbled out from the slouchy angle of my bag, and I leaned down to pick it up.

Meet me outside?

I grimaced at the paper then bit my lip. Tucking it inside my purse, I walked down the hall and to the front of the building.

Hands sweaty, I pushed open the front door and glanced first to the left then the right.

No one.

Frowning again, I lifted the paper from my purse and re-read the words just as a car pulled up to the curb.

My heart started to palpitate.

Cardinal leaned across the console and flicked the handle. The door to the Tesla swung open. He didn’t say a word, but the gesture was more than enough of an invitation. After sliding into the leather seat, I shut the door and clenched my purse on my lap.

“So, do I dare ask or just roll with it?” I asked, turning to him and regarding the way his aviators highlighted his chiseled cheekbones.

“Roll with it. Because I don’t have a damn clue,” he answered with his usual frank honestly.

I nodded once, relaxing slightly. “I can work with that.”

“Good. So… Chick-fil-A?” he asked, turning to glance at me before focusing back on the road.

“I’ll probably swell from the salt, but I don’t care. I love their chicken strips.” I groaned slightly, my stomach rumbling in greedy anticipation.

If he’d heard, he didn’t comment.

As we drove to the restaurant, I took the moment to study him further.

His shoulders were broader than I remembered, more rounded with muscular bulk than before. My fingers itched with the knowledge that they’d touched that skin, worshipped it.

I clenched my bag to keep my body in line.

His scent filled the car, calling to me. Everything about him reminded me of what I’d walked away from, even if it had only been one night.

It had been enough.

I’d known I was making a huge mistake.

And I’d done it anyway.

Regret was a merciless bitch.

As we pulled up to the drive-through, Cardinal ordered for us, asking for my preferences when necessary, then proceeded to reach behind his chair. I bit back a giggle as he put on a hat with a scraggly-looking wig attached to the back, reminiscent of a mullet.

Combined with the glasses, he was almost disguised.

Almost.

“You got any more props back there?” I asked, my mind immediately going somewhere dirty, but it was too late to take the words back. Maybe he’d take them innocently, as I’d originally intended before my baser instincts had taken over my thinking.

“Jealous of the mullet?” he teased as we pulled up to the first window.

“Insanely,” I replied dryly. I leaned far against my window so that I wasn’t in plain sight. Normally, people didn’t recognize me as quickly when I was dressed more casual and missing the stage make-up and hair.

“Sometimes it’s just nice to blend in,” he murmured quietly as he pulled up to the first window to pay.

I understood far too well.

The window attendant took Cardinal’s shiny black card and frowned slightly, glancing to him then back to the card before sliding it through the machine. When he handed it back with the receipt, he studied Cardinal once again, as if trying to match the notable black card with someone noteworthy but coming up blank.

Cardinal pulled forward, and I stifled a giggle. “Looks like your plan worked.”

“Today.” He shrugged. “It’s the mullet. Throws them off.” He said a quick thank you to the next window attendant as he grabbed the bags of food and drinks. Soon we were pulling away from the drive-through and heading south.

The scent of fried chicken and waffle fries made my stomach ache in hunger. It had been forever since I’d actually eaten fast food. Too much pressure always taunted me to maintain the body, keep the image up. It sucked being under the lens all the time.

Odd as it sounded, fame wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.

“So… why did you do it?”

I blinked then frowned as I turned to him. My mind spinning, it took me a moment to figure out what he was referring to. When it hit me, my face heated and my heart beat a painful and uncomfortable rhythm. Breathing deep, I twisted in my seat to face him more fully. So much needed to be said, but this was probably my one chance to be honest, to make things as right as I could get them. I didn’t want to screw it up.

“I was a selfish bitch,” I answered, the words cutting deep in their honestly. Cardinal arched an eyebrow and glanced to me, appreciation in his expression. Apparently, he hadn’t expected such cut-and-dry honesty.

I continued. “I was also scared. The deep belief that I wasn’t enough made the decision easy, because where I wasn’t enough… you were.” I shrugged. “And while it looks like karma didn’t bite me in the ass, just know that it did come around and snapped me good and hard.” I shook my head then turned to look out the front windshield of the car. “And you don’t need to believe me, but that’s the truth. If I could change things, I would. But I can’t, so… yeah.” I shrugged. “For what it’s worth…” I breathed the next words. “…I’m sorry.”

The silence was thick till the sound of his blinker echoed loudly, obnoxiously, as he turned into the studio parking garage. The shadow of the cement structure hid the sunlight, and I shivered, waiting for his response.

He slipped into a reserved slot and killed the electric engine but didn’t move.

My hands were balled into fists as I waited for him to move, to say something.

This was my one shot at redemption, in more ways than one.

I needed it.

Craved it.

And, of course, it would all hinge on the one person who, no matter how much I apologized, had every reason to hate me.

Saying sorry would never be enough.