Page 26 of Beautiful Noise
She followed me to the small bar that outlined the kitchen, separating it from the lounge. I filled mugs with tea, courtesy of the Keurig my mother insisted I have and eased one in her direction. Still not ready to face the firing squad, I fumbled around for a few more minutes retrieving honey and spoons which I eventually placed between us. I was on one stool, facing Kori while she avoided eye contact by facing the bar.
The mug I’d given her was cuffed between both hands, like she needed the feel of the porcelain as a lifeline. After a few moments of her staring blankly into the steamy brew, I’d had enough and decided to get the awkwardness out of the way.
“Care to share your thoughts?”
Her eyes clashed with mine, displaying a bit of panic and irritation. “About what?”
“Me, in there?” I tossed my head toward the sound booth and she frowned briefly, hiding behind her mug while she sipped cautiously.
“I don’t think I should. Last time I gave you mythoughtsthings didn’t fare so well.”
Agreed.
“I guess I should explain what that was all about, huh?”
“You don’t owe me anything but an explanation would be nice. Or at least tell me what I said to make you so upset.”
Damn, I was the one who exploded for no reason, yet here she was, giving me grace I didn’t deserve.
I pushed my mug out the way, moving my stool closer to hers. Adjusting us both so her knees were positioned between my thighs seemed necessary. She glanced down but didn’t attempt to change our position.
“I wroteStoned Hearta week after my father passed.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flashed with recognition. “I’m…sorry, I didn’t know.”
I snorted through a hard laugh. “No one does, aside from my mother and my producer Clay.”
Keeping my eyes fastened to hers, my hand brushed over my head before I allowed it to rest on her leg. Her eyes lowered again but she didn’t demand that I stop touching her, which I appreciated. I needed the connection and the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers if I was going to get through this explanation.
“The day after we buried him, I locked myself in the studio and didn’t leave for a week and a half. I barely slept, don’t really remember eating, and refused to talk to anyone. I basically shut out the world. All I did was record. I was so fucking angry and broken because as close as I am to my mother and as much as I acknowledge that she’s my world, my father…” I paused, swallowing the tension that traveled from my chest to my throat. “He was my best friend. My fucking reason, you know?”
She nodded and I wasn’t sure if she truly understood but I sensed she really wanted to. Most people would have used this opportunity to get the goods, to have intimate knowledge, the story that had never been told, but Kori simply waited, giving me a listening ear and what little understanding she could offer.
“He was young, fifty-eight. Died in his sleep. No warning. A heart attack and that shit hurt more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life. It left me feeling…”
“Hollow. That’s why you named the song ‘Hollow’?” she whispered, meeting my eyes so I had no choice but to acknowledge her words.
“It’s the only song on the album I titled. The rest Clay handled. Shit…” I laughed harshly. He handled all of it. The production, titling the album, the songs… The only thing I was responsible for was the music.”
She blinked at me a few times before her tongue moved across her lips and fuck if I didn’t want to kiss her. I needed to kiss her, so I did…
Her tongue met mine tentatively at first. She was uncertain about whether or not to fully dive in but when she did I knew I was swimming in dangerous waters. Her hands fisted my shirt and her strokes turned bold and aggressive, which I matched with my own. I moved in closer and she let me. She also didn’t protest my tongue exploring to the point of learning every corner, dip, and taste of her mouth.
But then…
My brain caught up with what was happening and I groaned into her mouth, regretting what I was about to do.
And just as I expected, when I pulled away, everything was different. From the way she held my gaze, eyes narrowed and intense, she felt the same.
“You were partially right about the album. It was the worst pain I’d ever felt and my emotions were raw, unfiltered, and according to most,Stoned Heartis some of my best work. It wasn’t inspired by a woman breaking my heart. I’ve never been in love, Ri, not once. That album was me embracing and then releasing the pain I felt when I lost my best friend. My father.”
The last part came out barely a whisper. It had been a while since I’d sunk into this space; one that left me angry and hurt and questioning shit that didn’t make sense.
“You said Clay handled everything, why?”
“Stoned Heartwasn’t intended to be shared with the world. It was my therapy. When the decision was made, I had very little to do with pulling it together. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind back then. The album wasn’t released until a year after my father passed. I was still grieving, figuring things out.”
“I don’t understand?”