His mouth lowers to the shell of my ear, hot breath fanning over my skin. “I expect a full critique when I’m done making you sweat.”
He places the earbud in my hand, then steps away. I fail to hide a full-body shudder.
Suddenly, I can think of alotmore interesting ways to get in our workout.
three
Liam
Listening through Atonement’s final track, I fight back a grin at the rightness of the music washing over me.
Stas has an ear for this. Her suggestion to pull back on percussion during the chorus allowed the outro to hit like a brick wall of unforgiving sound. The sudden explosion of drums at the end, combined with Maria’s harsh vocals, has goosebumps rising on my arms.
“Please tell me this is the one,” Griff calls out, his voice sounding through the control room speakers. He’s shining with sweat and panting as he braces his forearms on the top of his beanie, drumsticks clutched in his trembling hands.
I cock my head in Hail’s direction, leaning forward in the other leather chair behind my digital mixer, a captivating smile on his face. He waits for Maria’s last high to run its course before he confirms, “Yeah, that hits the spot.”
My gaze drifts to Malek behind us. He’s got one foot propped on my junior sound engineer’s desk. His long, nimble fingers pluck out a muted rhythm on the bass guitar he snatched from my collection of instruments hung in the moody painted hallway. His blood-red locks are spiked out in all directions like he stuck a finger in an electrical socket.
Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him to do just that. The guy challenges death on the regular.
“The world isn’t ready for this album,” Malek says.
“They better be.” Maria pops her head in the room, dreads swaying from a high ponytail and a slice of meat lover’s pizza folded in one hand. We ordered a feast hours ago when we realized it was past dinnertime and no one was ready to leave.
I take pride in the fact that my previous bandmates trust me with their new album. They’d been in the market for a new producer and had faith I wouldn’t fuck it up due to my workaholic nature and dedication to perfection.
I might have been a bit of a tyrant when I played with them.
As much shit as they’ve given me for leaving Atonement, they’ve come to understand that succeeding in music was never about fame or money for me. It was an outlet for the messy things I didn’t know how to wade through as a kid.
And when Hail offered me friendship—when he gave me reason to wake up each morning—music became a way for me to give back to him.
Once his position was secured at the top of the metal world, I knew it was time to help other aspiring musicians. It’s one good thing I can do. One way I can prove to myself I’m not what my parents believed I would become. I’m not the criminal teachers whispered about or the murderous goth other kids feared. I get to submerge myself in music production, something I came to love more than performing on stage.
“Aw, you didn’t have to,” Malek says, reaching for Maria’s pizza. She yanks it away from his hand, and when he goes for it again, she takes off down the hall. Malek sets my bass on the desk and chases after her.
“Come hang that up, dickhead!” I shout.
Both of them are bickering so loud in the entry area, they don’t hear me.
“Is that a yes? No? Someone? Anyone?” Griff asks in a defeated tone.
I take pity on him, hitting the button for the microphone. “You’re done.”
Griff pops off his headphones and drops his head back with an exhausted growl that sounds more like a dying creature than a small, normally goofy human.
“The fuck was that?” Malek reappears in the doorway with Maria hanging off his back.
I nod in Griff’s direction. “Think it belongs to you.”
Malek’s brows furrow. He runs his thumb under the curve of his bottom lip as he takes in his bandmate. “Nope. I don’t claim ownership.”
Maria jumps off his back and smacks him in the arm. “Go get your man.”
Panic momentarily flashes across Malek’s face. He glances around the room, almost like he’s gauging our reactions, before slipping into the recording room to scoop Griff up and toss him over a shoulder.
Shockingly enough, Griff doesn’t try to fight him. His limbs dangle uselessly as Malek holds him.
