My pulse quickens with his words. The hope he might be right. “You really think?”
“I do.” His lips kick up with a boyish smile, and if it weren’t for his full-sleeve tattoos he’d pass for one of the all-American football captains back home. “It’ll be pretty cool to surprise Lex when she joins up with us next month.”
I hadn’t thought of that, but now that the idea’s there, it brings a genuine smile to my lips. We’ve never had much in common besides a father I never knew. Music is what ties us together, so the thought of being able to play, even on a novice level, brings excitement to my otherwise uneventful life. “She’ll like that, won’t she?”
“Yeah, she will.”
For the next half hour Austin teaches me what he calls the basics, and I do my best to keep up. I’m good at remembering things, so the chord placement comes easily, but strumming has me fumbling more than not. It’s a rhythm that doesn’t come naturally, and I’m gonna have to practice to get it right. It’ll take time. But that’s okay because time I’ve got.
“Enough for one day.” Austin tips his chin to the guitar case, and covers my hand to stop me from strumming. “Let’s get out of here. You must be feeling like Rapunzel the way you’ve been locked up the past few days.”
“Oh, I was just . . . I didn’t want to be in the way.” I glance down and fiddle with the guitar pick in my fingers, remembering back to those difficult first few days after Grams passed. “I know how it is to lose someone. Sometimes it’s nice to be left alone.”
“Yeah.” Austin’s smile holds pain and it’s a hurt I recognize. He loved Iz. “You’re sweet. Too sweet.”
I don’t know what to do or how to reply, so instead of meeting his gaze, I will my cheeks not to heat again and return Lexi’s guitar to her case.
Austin clears his throat. “Let’s go grab lunch. You’ve done good, first lesson and all. And Trent probably won’t kill me if I steal you away for a few hours.” He jumps up from the floor and pulls up his skintight jeans from where they’ve settled low on his hips.
“Probably? Living dangerously.” I lift one eyebrow and try my hand at teasing him back.
“Always.” He grins like a boy and I swear that look alone could be used to start engines, by the way it sends my pulse flying. “Meet me downstairs in ten? Or do you need longer to get ready?”
I accept his outstretched hand to help me off the floor. I glance down at the simple fabric of my sundress. It’s about the nicest outfit I own and I hope it’ll do, otherwise I have nothing to wear. “This okay? Or should I change?”
“Beautiful.” He appraises my dress with a sweeping look that sends awareness over my entire body. He’s talking about the dress. He must be. That or he’s teasing again. I try not to squirm under his gaze.
“Ten minutes?” My voice brings his stare back to my face.
“My kinda girl.” He winks and struts out of the room.
I don’t take a full breath until the door shuts behind him. Austin isn’t like the boys back home. He’s exactly how I imagined a rock star. Larger than life. Devastatingly good looking. I am way out of my league with him. Not that I’m with him, or want to be. I can’t even handle a man like Hunter Anderson. There’s no way in hell I can handle Austin Jones.
But maybe we can be friends. Lord knows I could use one of those about now.
6
Leighton
Ten hourslater my hands are sore and my fingers tender with surfacing blisters, but it’s all for a purpose. I’ve memorized the entire set list for Three Ugly Guys’ upcoming tour, and for the first time since snagging this gig, I feel like a rock star.
The practice studio door swings open and my uncle’s brow lifts from his usual scowl. “You still here?”
I stand from the drum set, stretch my legs, and lift my backpack from the corner, swinging it across one shoulder as I meet his stare. “I literally have nowhere else to go.” I laugh, in part from the insanity and humor of the situation. Me, Leighton Wellington, homeless for a night. I doubt anyone would have predicted such absurdity when we all celebrated my graduation last week.
“Fuck.” My uncle shakes his head and blows out a harsh breath. “I guess you can stay with me.” He makes a show with another heavy sigh. Who knew Uncle Bedo was one for the theatrics?
“Aw, thanks. That’s such a kind invitation. You must really love me.” My legs swallow the distance between us in long strides.
He narrows his gaze and holds the door until I pass through. “Obligation. Don’t get used to it.”
“Really?” My eyebrows shoot up with my surprise. “I thought you tossed the family guilt years ago.”
His lips waver from their usual firm line and he nods his head toward the back exit. “Rears its ugly head from time to time.”
The hallway is lit but it’s the glare from the setting sun that casts an almost golden hue against the awards and accolades that line the walls. I keep up with his hurried pace, but take it all in, the success and what this man at my side has created without a hand up from anyone. “I never said this before, but growing up I always admired you. The way you didn’t concede to Grandma and Grandpa’s demands. How you made your own success without their support.”
“And money.” There’s pride he can’t hide from his voice.
