Page 43 of Uncharted Desires

West’s head whipped up, staring at her, his tongue wetting his lips, and Kat couldn’t help but notice his perfect mouth, hating that she wanted it on her.

“And . . . who was it?” He knew he had to know what she was about to say.

“Hmmm.” She held her finger up to her mouth as if thinking hard, and West leaned closer. She could see she was driving him crazy, and she loved it. For once she held the power over him, and she couldn’t believe it.

He did that; he empowered her, and he helped her see the power in herself. And all it took was being stranded on an island and hiding from murdering drug lords.

“I think it was Fleet Foxes. You know Robin Pecknold was really sexy back then. Still is.”

“Kat!” He pulled her into his lap, and she went willingly, giggling like a teenager.

“Of course it was you! Weston Monroe, on his first headlining tour.” Her hands threaded and wrapped around his neck, and it wasn’t lost on her how intimate the position was.

“Mmmm, and how did this Weston Monroe sexually awaken you? Were you wet for him?” he asked, his voice suddenly deeper, more gravelly. That delicious sound rumbled through her body, sexually awakening her right at that very moment.

“West!”

His hand moved up her body, and she shivered at the sensation. “You started this, tell me. What happened when you saw my show? I remember that tour. It was my first major album before adding all the production value.”

“Like me.” She turned away, realizing how much he must have hated having her around.

He turned her head, making her look at him. “Kat, listen, I wrote those songs. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do them all on my own. I know things went sideways with us, but I don’t regret it for a minute. Besides, I can’t play the piano for shit. You always did so much better on tour than me. Remember that. Now, what happened at that show?”

She could cry at his tenderness. He had never once expressed an opinion one way or the other on her talent, or on vocals on his tracks. After their kiss in the hallway their dynamic changed, and Kat was convinced he hated having her there. He was lying about the piano. He was amazing, but the fact that he would say that to her meant more to her than he realized.

“After moving to L.A. I had seen plenty of concerts, but there was something about that venue, and about you on that stage, that made it this ethereal experience for me. It was almost as if I was no longer existing in reality—it was just you and me. Every note seemed directed at me, and I felt a connection so strong it took my breath away. I was just a couple of people back from the front, and I could swear our eyes met; your face lit up as if to say, ‘You are the only one here.’ You winked at me before turning away and I thought, ‘He’s singing this song for me.’ Now I know you can’t really see the crowd that well, but at that moment, I truly believed something special had happened. I was a stupid girl, like all the other stupid girls in the crowd who think you’re singing directly to them. Who think they’re somehow special out of the thousands of faces you see.”

West laughed, as he ran his hand down her side. “I bet I did wink at you, how could I miss such a beautiful face in the crowd?”

“West, I’ve literally been by your side for ten years, and you’ve barely noticed me.” She felt her face heat up as a blush grew across her face. “Besides that one night,” she whispered.

His eyes darkened. “A night I’d like to revisit.”

He what?

“Were you hanging out backstage after the show? I always came out back then to greet fans,” he continued.

Now it was her turn to laugh. “No, don’t flatter yourself. But when the label said who I would be singing for I was so excited. I jumped at the chance to work with you. I wanted to learn so much from you.”

West made a sound of derision. “I wasn’t a very good mentor, was I?”

Kat looked away, unsure if she was ready to go down this path. “You were until . . .”

“Until that night.”

She nodded. “The House of Blues. You never came back. I wasn’t good enough for you, and it really hurt that the man I had looked up to for so long didn’t want me. I was mad at you, but really, I was mad at myself. I should have known better. You weren’t for me.”

His hands grabbed her, his face inches from hers. “Listen to me, Kat. I wanted you so badly that night. Dec got on my case about sleeping with band members. He said it was a bad idea, especially later if you said I took advantage of you. He made sense to me that night. I went back to the trailer.”

“Alone?”

West nodded.

A hiccup mixed with a gasp escaped Kat’s mouth as she contemplated West’s words. All this time, she thought he had just decided she wasn’t worth his time. She had been wrong.

“Why didn’t you just come back and tell me that?”

“Young, dumb, and drunk, I guess. I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with you. You were different. We talked about my music. You were the only one who would push me when you thought it sounded bad, or notes didn’t fit together, or lyrics were off. You weren’t scared to tell me how you felt. But I fucked it up. I let my dick do the thinking, and I pressured you that night.”