Page 70 of Sing Your Secrets
“What?”
“You’d pick being with me over working with a producer who’s been credited on four Grammy wins?”
“Four?” I say teasingly, “Well, I didn’t know it was four. Sorry, Pumpkin, your ass is grass, now.” I chuckle as I watch her smile flatten. “Kidding. I’d pick you over winning a Grammy myself, Reese. You’re already really special to me.”
“That’s …” Her face twists as she makes a weird expression. I kiss her forehead but the wrinkles don’t relax.
“What is this?” Using my pointer finger, I circle her face. “Is this your ‘I’m going to cry’ face?” I can’t help but chuckle a little as she scowls.
“Well don’t draw attention to it,” she grumbles, spinning around.
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pull her against my chest, ignoring the fact I’m dusty and grimy. I whisper in her ear, “I’m just enjoying getting to know all your faces. You can cry around me.”
Spinning back around, her expression has settled. She’s smiling mischievously. “There’s nothing to cry about because you can have both. Dad thinks we should start with an EP. It’ll take a couple months or so to get five good songs together…”
“So, we uh…abstain for a couple months?”
She scoffs like I’m ridiculous. “Uh, no. We sneak around and lie our asses off for a couple months.”
“Just when I didn’t think I could want you more. In fact, speaking of sneaking around…I’ve really missed you all week.”
“I missed you too,” she says. “You’ve been busy.”
“I know. But I’m caught up and am looking forward to spending time with my secret girlfriend tonight.”
Seeing Reese was near impossible this week. I’ve literally been at The Garage sunup to sundown for the past few days. The new buyer wants to swing by next week to check out our progress before we settle the deal and Law and I have a lot riding on their investment.
“Sorry,” she says with a pout. “It’s Friday. Girls’ night. But tomorrow?”
“Oh, come on…”
“Don’t you give me sad eyes. You know the rules, I don’t cancel on my friends.”
“Fine.” I pump my eyebrows at her when a naughty idea crosses my mind. “We have a few minutes before your dad gets here, right?”
“A few…”
“And you keep bragging about this three-minute blow job.” Grabbing her hand, I try to lead her to the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll wash up first.” She laughs heavily but plants her feet in place.
“Um, no, sir. That’s for special uses only. It’s a bartering tool.”
“Bartering tool?”
“Mhmm, for when I really want something you won’t give me.”
Trailing my finger over the slight slope of her forehead to the tip of her nose, I stop to look at the most beautiful woman I could’ve ever dreamt up. “The only way I won’t give you what you want is if I can’t. And even then, I’d kill myself trying.”
No sass. No snark. No funny comeback. Reese puts her hands on either side of my face and presses herself into my chest. “It’s a little scary how I believe everything you say, so easily.”
Leaning away, I find her eyes, my arm still wrapped around the smallest part of her waist. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve only been in one other relationship and I felt paranoid all the time. But with you, I don’t question things. When you tell me you’re working late, I believe you. When you say you care about me like you haven’t cared about anyone else before, I know you mean it. I really like you, Miles. And now that you have my trust—please don’t break it.”
I pull her closer into my body and tuck her hair behind her back so I can whisper in her ear. “I won’t. I promise.”
* * *
Add sound engineer to the list of jobs I will never, ever be able to do. Reese’s Dad, Mac, looks like an electrician as he weaves through endless audio cables. Reese and I occasionally shuffle across the stage to move a subwoofer two inches to the left or right, but otherwise, we’re basically sitting ducks, our feet dangling off the stage, as Mac sets up the sound system.