lody
"No!" I snapped, facing Train, and squeezing my eyes shut as I took a deep breath. "Why do you keep going to the C? You’re supposed to go to the G just before the bridge."
He settled his arm over his guitar and studied . "You sure about that?"
"I wrote the song. Why wouldn’t I be sure about it?"
"Because this is the G." He strumd the chord. "And this is the C. And you’re singing the tonic which is a C note."
I wrinkled my nose. Fuck. The C might not have been the correct chord, but it was the better chord.
Jesus, this man was annoying the shit out of . We’d been doing a little dance for a couple of weeks now. A push and pull, if you will. Him with his perfect fucking pitch and ability to write songs at a breakneck pace. It wasn’t fair that God had given so much talent to soone who was wasting it on junk food jingles.
I pulled my right monitor out of my ear and stepped over to him. He pulled his out and continued to sit relaxed on his stool, smiling smugly up at .
"I want you to play the G," I stressed.
"Or would you rather I give you the D?" he said under his breath.
I shivered. "Excuse ?"
"Nothing." He glared up at . "I’ll play whatever you want, lody."
"I want my fans to hear the songs the way they were recorded. There’s nothing worse than going to a show and not being able to sing along to your favorites the way they were written."
Train nodded. "Got it."
"Okay. Thank you."
We were currently rehearsing for a streaming concert that we were going to be performing from the hotel ballroom the next day. It was a special fan club mbers only. A VIP concert, along with a et and greet, so the band and I were getting in an extra rehearsal.
We were in Albuquerque, New xico, and rehearsing at a funky little studio called VistaVerde with the full band. The studio was cool, but it was tiny, which ant small rooms and very close quarters for and Train. I walked around in a constant state of arousal and my vibrator was wearing out from constant use.
"One more ti," I said, and as we got to the G, I scowled, waving my hand, and stopping him again. "Never mind. Go to the C." I let out frustrated grunt. "Goddammit."
He smirked slightly and we started again, playing the song the way it should be played. The way he knew it should be played and it sounded better than it ever had. We finished the song and I turned off my microphone, shut down the PA, and faced the band. "Let’s call it a night."
"You okay?" Puddin’ asked.
"Yep," I lied. "I’m just tired. I think if we don’t have these songs down now, we never will, so we shouldn’t beat a dead horse."
"Whatever you say, boss."
The band packed up and we all loaded into the bus and headed back to the hotel.
I found myself sitting next to Train on the way back. And we said nothing. Barely even breathed. Or maybe that was just . My skin was on fire and only he could douse the fla. I desperately wanted to peel him out of his clothes and lick every inch of his body.
No, let rephrase.
I wanted him to peel out of my clothes and lick every inch of my body right before I sat on his face. I shivered at the thought then forced myself to think about sewing or knitting or sothing just as mundane.
Arriving back at the hotel, Train walked every corner of my hotel suite before allowing entry. He did this every single ti we left the hotel for any reason. Thorough didn’t even begin to describe this man.
"All clear," he said, and I walked inside, facing him before he could close the door.
"Why are you testing ?" I demanded.
He raised an eyebrow. "Why am I getting under your skin?"
"You’re not getting under my skin."
"Liar."
"Well, maybe it’s because you’re picking apart the songs that I’ve put my heart and soul into."
Train smiled slowly, closing the door, then the distance between us. "That’s not the reason and you know it."
"Because I’m horny and you’re hot as fuck." Suddenly mortified, I gasped, my face heating. "Shit. No. Pretend I didn’t say that out loud."
"Now we’re gettin’ sowhere," he said, and then his mouth landed on mine and I was lifted high up the wall where I wrapped my legs around his waist and looped my hands around his neck.
Before things got interesting, however, Train pulled back, letting out a series of expletives.
"What’s wrong?" I asked.
"We can’t do this."
"Why not?"
He sighed, studying for a few tense seconds. "One, we’ve got close to six weeks left, and this complicates shit."
"No strings."
"lody, sex always brings strings."
"It doesn’t have to," I argued.
"Sex with you definitely will."
I scoffed. "What’s that supposed to an?"
He was still holding against the wall, so he stepped back, lowering to my feet, and putting so distance between us.
I narrowed my eyes, realization beginning to dawn, and I let out a quiet hiss of irritation. "Harmony said sothing, didn’t she?"
"Whether she did or didn’t doesn’t really play here."
"What exactly did she say?"
He scrubbed his hand over his beard. "She said, ’don’t sleep with my sister,’ and that I wasn’t your type, so she wasn’t really worried about it."
"She has no clue what my type is." I snorted. "Obviously."
"Still... probably not a good idea."
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