As annoyed as I was with Cerise for shooting down the song, I was more annoyed with myself. I’d known I was just rushing to get the job done. I should have worked with Julian more, should have included him in the process more than just an afternoon of brainstorming.

So back to the beginning we went, starting from scratch.

Well, not completely from scratch. In the back of my mind I still remembered the two words that popped out of Julian’s mouth during our word association game.

Life.

Freedom.

If that was what his song was truly about, I could run with it. I just needed to make sure the song felt like a Julian Woods song and not one of mine.

I knew it wasn’t going to be as simple as that.

“I’ve got a list of local art galleries,” Julian said. “Three of them are contemporary and post-modern art.” He looked up from his phone to meet my eyes. “I have a feeling if I ask you to choose one, you’ll get agitated again.”

“I didn’t get agitated.”

“Your eyes were panicked and your forehead started sweating.”

“Just choose the one that’s closest,” I said, stopping the topic of conversation before it even began.

The closest turned out to be twenty minutes away. That meant twenty minutes in the car with Julian, unable to escape if things got awkward.

His car was sleek and shiny, black with a cream interior, leather of course. I knew it must have been expensive. I didn’t say anything, but I marveled again at the success of Cherry Lips. It wasn’t that I was jealous. There was just a part of me that couldn’t help but feel wistful and think, that might have been me.

Julian kept both hands on the steering wheel and drove only a few notches above the speed limit. He’d always been a careful driver.

“I’m sorry about Cerise,” he said once we’d pulled out of the parking lot and were on the road. “She has high standards. I know it might seem abrasive.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I get what she meant. The song didn’t sound like you.”

“It sounded like you.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at me and murmur. “Maybe that’s why I liked it so much.”

I almost missed what he’d said, he’d spoken so quietly.

I turned that thought around in my head. Julian said he’d loved the song, and that it sounded like me.

He’d always loved my lyrics. It seemed, despite the breakup, that hadn’t changed. He used to say they made him feel what I felt. They helped him understand me.

I thought I’d known everything about Julian before. Maybe, through writing this song with him, I’d come to know him better, too.

I still hadn’t decided whether that was something I wanted or not.

“We’ll just have to work harder to impress her,” I said.

“She’s hard to impress,” Julian said. “But she approved of your song.”

“Not in the way we hoped,” I said. “At least now I know I haven’t lost my touch.”

“I never doubted you for a second,” he said.

My heart practically glowed at the praise. After being with Keith for so long, I wasn’t used to it.

When we pulled into the art gallery, I saw it was a small venue with only two dozen or so pieces.

“What do you think of this one?” I pointed to a pedestal that had some sort of twisted sculpture using circular little Roomba vacuums and old-fashioned wooden-handled brooms. “I’m not sure what the artist is trying to say here.”

“Witches are switching up their usual ride for something more modern?” Julian said.

I poked him in the side. “I meant, what sort of emotion do you think it’s trying to convey?”

Julian immediately began to look uncomfortable, rocking from foot to foot. If he thought I was agitated and panicked before, he would have found his own expression alarming.

“I don’t know,” he said. “The artist hates cleaning?”

“Both tools are used for housework,” I pointed out. “But no one uses those types of brooms anymore because we have this futuristic machine to do the cleaning for us.”

“Hurray for technology,” he said wryly. “The future is now. Let's all pray to our robot overlords.”

I placed a hand on his arm. Tense, firm muscles shifted under my palm. I was reminded of his strength, the way he used to pick me up in his arms and throw me on the bed as I giggled and shrieked.

His warm skin sent tingles along my fingers. I remembered cupping his cheeks to look into his eyes, then trailing my hands down his chest, heading toward that tempting V of his torso.

How long had it been since I’d touched Julian like that?

Too long.

I inhaled sharply and dropped my hand, taking steps backwards. I sensed Julian staring at me. I avoided his eyes and kept them trained on the art installation.

“Think about it,” I said after clearing my throat. “What does this make you feel?”

Julian turned from me to stare at the sculpture, a frown on his face. Eventually he spoke.

“It’s sort of sad,” he said. “This one old thing is being replaced by a new thing. But it’s also hopeful. Like the future is bright and full of wonder.”

I had no idea if that was what the artist meant when he made the sculpture. The fact that Julian found something in it, that he was able to relate to it and express it in words, made me feel hopeful, as well.

Julian was closed off, yes, but not entirely unreachable.

We wandered through the gallery and took in other artists’ work. For each, I asked Julian what it made him feel. He was still tense, his shoulders still hunched around his ears, but he continued playing our weird little game.

“When you first brought up the idea, I thought we’d be making up stupid captions,” he said after about an hour.

“That is fun,” I agreed. “But that’s not the point of our visit. I asked you what the song was about. What you wanted the song to say. How you wanted it to make people feel. And you said you couldn’t explain it in words. So here we are.”

“I guess it beats doing more word association games,” he said.

“We can keep doing those too.”

Julian heaved a sigh and ran hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face.

“Maybe this is all a waste of time,” he said. “I’ll just tell Cerise she can take my song and write whatever lyrics she wants.”

“I thought Cherry Lips was trying something new?” I challenged. “I thought you wanted to show the world what you had to offer?”

“Maybe I don’t have anything to offer,” he said.

I was overtaken with a fit of pique. I stepped closer and got in his face.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” I said. “There’s a lot going on inside you, Julian Woods. You have a lot to say. A lot to share. You just need to learn to express it.”

Once I stopped talking, I realized how close I’d gotten. I’d craned my head up to look him in the eyes. His dark gaze was fixated on me. We were mere inches away, my body close to his. That sweet and spicy scent filled my head, making it swim.

The tension from before shifted. It was no longer Julian’s frustration. It was a different kind of tension. Heat simmered between the two of us, like a near visible electric current.

My hands longed to reach out for him. My skin ached for his touch. My lips begged for his kiss.

His eyes dropped to my mouth. I parted my lips unconsciously. He inhaled sharply, the sound delicious to my ears. I recognized that sound. It was the sound of Julian almost losing control. That little gasp of air told me he was close to breaking the tension, close to crashing his lips onto mine.

My whole body trembled, aching for him. If I’d been in my right state of mind, I would have been yelling at myself how bad of an idea this was.

But right then, my mind had been thoroughly taken over by the fire in his eyes, full of need. A need that matched my own.

Without thinking, I grabbed at his jacket, tugging him closer.

His eyes narrowed, bright and fierce.

A crash sounded as someone bumped into a display, sending a Roomba tumbling to the floor.

The spell broke. My brain snapped back into place and the yelling began.

Are you a goddamn idiot? it shouted at me.

I jolted away from him as if I’d been hit by a lightening bolt. My breathing was heavy, as if I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. Julian’s was no better. His eyes were wild as he backed away, then with a flash they were flat and unreadable.

I pressed my shaking hands to my stomach, trying to calm the storm raging within me. It didn’t help the aching between my thighs.

What the hell had I almost done?

I’d given my heart to Julian once before, and he’d torn it apart. I wasn’t going to give him a chance to do it again.

Julian swept his hair back from his face, sneaking a furtive glance at me. I made my expression as flat and stony as his.

“I think we’ve been here long enough,” I said. “Why don’t we continue another day?”

“Yeah. Right. Good idea.” He stumbled over his words.

“I’ll take a cab home,” I told him, already reaching for my phone to pull up the taxi app.

“I can—”

“I’ll take a cab,” I repeated, cutting him off.

He nodded silently, then grunted out. “Wait.”

I looked up from the screen.

“We’ve got a concert coming up,” he said. “Nothing big, just a small club, some sort of VIP fan-only thing.”

I waited for him to continue.

“You should come,” he said. “Come watch me play live. It might help. With inspiration or whatever.”

The last time I’d seen Julian play on stage had been with me. I wondered how much it would hurt me to watch him play with another band, without me singing next to him.

But the hopeful look in his eyes was too much for me.

“Sure,” I said, despite all my reservations. “I’ll come watch you play.”