five
. . .
Ocean Melody
“It's like the ocean is singing a song for us. Our ocean melody.”
~Jake Steele
Emily
Jake found me a bathing-suit cover-up donated by one of the roadies. A blue and pink floral wraparound sarong number that tied at my neck. Not much protection from the Florida sun, but at least I wasn't going to be prancing about in cartoon underwear.
As the sun went down, a refreshing salty wind swept through my hair, cooling me off. Jake and his buddies had started a bonfire and were sitting in a circle, drinking beer and playing their guitars. The firelight cast dancing shadows, making Jake’s features even more striking as he strummed lazily.
Zara and Rowan danced off to the side, getting close andpersonal, bodies rubbing and noses nuzzling. She was more on the wild side than I was, so I wasn't surprised when she caught my attention. Shooting me a thumbs-up and a wink, she gestured off to the side. Our signal for time alone. She wanted to go somewhere private with Rowan.
Selfishly, I wanted to deny her. I needed my best friend close by in case I said or did something stupid. What did I know about rockstars? I wasn't a prude or a virgin, but I wasn't a seductress extraordinaire. My stomach churned with nerves, but the way Jake’s eyes kept finding mine gave me a spark of courage.
I couldn't do that to Zara, so I nodded and watched them walk away into the darkness. I suddenly felt angry at myself, perhaps fueled by the two beers. Here I was with Jake Steele, a sexy-as-fuck rockstar and mosh-pit hero. Did I want him to remember me as the cartoon underwear girl?
I was twenty-two years old, on the beach with a mother-fuckin' rockstar, and I wanted my best friend to stay close by in case I said something stupid. I shook my head. I was a coward. But something about this man’s easy smile made me want to be brave—to seize the moment.
As my feelings swirled inside me, I grabbed Jake’s neck and pulled him close, pressing my lips against him with a wet smack. I pulled away an instant later and nodded in satisfaction. My heart pounded so loudly, I was sure he could hear it.
There. I had done it. I kissed Jake Steele. It was the story I’d tell my grandchildren.
When I pulled away with a wet smack, proud of myself,Jake tilted his head, confusion written all over his face, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Wow, what was that about?” he asked.
Crap. My cheeks burned hot. I didn't know what to say. I hadn’t planned what I’d do after the kiss, focused on the act alone. What had I been thinking? My mind raced, searching for words, but all I could feel was the lingering heat of his lips pressed against mine.
Jake chugged back the rest of his beer and stood. Offering me his hand, he said, “Come on, Care Bear. Let's take a walk on the beach.”
He reached down and grabbed his guitar and a blanket, and I trailed behind him. His broad shoulders moved with confidence, and I couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself, as if he owned the night.
I did a quickstep to keep up. We hadn’t gone far when the light from the bonfire faded. Clarke Records had hooked them up with a slick, isolated beach house. Jake stopped at a small outcropping of palm trees, releasing my hand to spread out a blanket.
“Madam.” He swept out his arm in invitation.
I giggled and curtsied. “Kind sir.”
“Shall I sing you a song, gentle maiden?” He pulled out his guitar as we sat against the palms. He gently strummed, and the sound of the waves was his accompaniment, creating a moment that felt like it belonged in a dream.
“Youaremy knight in shining armor. Perhaps I should singyousomething.” I tried not to wince and thanked Godfor the dark because I knew my cheeks had to be bright-ass red.
His eyes gleamed. “You can sing?”
“Not at all.” I burst out in hysterical laughter.
“That makes the offer more meaningful. A sacrifice, if you will.”
“I think you’d be the one making the sacrifice—with your ears. But I owe you.”
He strummed a few beats, interspersing each motion with the waves hitting the sand. The sound was hypnotic, pulling me deeper.
“There’s something about you, Emily Lane. Something special,” he whispered, his gaze never leaving mine.
