“Are you sure?” That didn’t sound right.
“Yep,” he said making the p pop like he always did, drawing my focus to his mouth.
“That’s a first. Normally, she has several guests on the show. I don’t know if that makes me more worried for you or not.” I chuckled at his grimace. “It does work in your favor that she is a huge LO fan. You guys are her second favorite band.”
“Second favorite? Who’s her first?” Brooks asked indignantly.
“Bon Jovi. And her absolute favorite song of all time is ‘I’ll Be There for You’. Maybe you guys could cover it on the show,” I suggested.
“We can totally do that. It’s been a while since we’ve played it, but I’m sure we can brush up on it before we go on the show. Anything else we should know?” Dawson leaned towards me, making the air crackle with desire.
“If she asks you something you don’t want to answer, be honest and tell her. If she senses you’re lying to her, she’s like a dog with a bone and will continue to hound you to answer the question,” I said seriously. I’d seen her rip apart celebrities on her show before.
“Got it.” He nodded and waited for more advice.
“Speaking of covers, I always loved how you guys covered the most random songs,” Beckett said, leaning over the table so he could see Dawson around me. “How did you guys come to learn so many songs from every genre?”
“We have Izzy to thank for that,” Brooks said with a laugh.
“What do you mean?” Beckett asked, turning to Brooks.
“When the band was just starting out, Izzy was our biggest cheerleader,” Brooks said.
“And our biggest challenger,” Dawson added.
“Izzy told us that in addition to making our own music, we needed to learn covers. Because until we had our own fanbase, we had to be able to win crowds over with songs they already knew and loved. She would send Dawson a couple songs each week for us to learn. Some of them fit our sound and vibe. But some…” Brooks trailed off as laughter overwhelmed him. His face turned red with the force of his booming chuckle.
“Some of them were so outside our comfort zone. But I refused to give up on any challenge Izzy gave us. No matter how much we didn’t want to practice some of the assigned songs,” Dawson said, pride flowing through his voice.
“What songs are you talking about?” Beckett asked, bewildered.
“Oh, um how about Madonna’s ‘Like a Virgin’ or ‘I Touch Myself’ by Divinyls?”
“No, she didn’t?” Beckett’s jaw dropped open.
“And the Spice Girls and Brittany Spears,” Dawson added.
♪ Wannabe by the Spice Girls
Brooks finally composed himself enough to speak, “Yes, she did. She made us learn pop, rap, country, rock, metal, folk. You name it, Izzy made us practice it.”
“And even though we complained—” Dawson started.
“And whined like babies,” I added.
“And whined like babies, it helped us hone our skills. She made us great,” Dawson said with a smile. His eyes, trained on me, said so much more.
The silence grew awkward. The background music changed to something slow. Brittany held out her hand to Dawson. “Come on, Rockstar. Dance with me for old time’s sake.”
His gaze flickered to mine briefly before he stood and followed Brittany to the empty space occupied only by my grandparents, who were swaying slowly. My heart throbbed watching Dawson hold Brittany. I wanted him to hold me.
“You too, mister,” I said to Beckett. My nerves demanded that I get up and move. Dancing was the obvious solution.
“That might not be such a good idea, Isabelle. I have two left feet, or maybe no feet at all,” he argued.
“You’ll be fine. It’s just one dance,” I prodded.
“All right,” he said with a sigh.
I placed my hand in his and drew him to the dance floor. As we moved awkwardly to the music, I watched Dawson and Brittany. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but both of them were smiling and laughing. Pain stabbed my heart, then stabbed my foot as Beckett stepped on it.
“Sorry.” His lips were pressed into a tight line, and he stiffened.
“It’s fine. You just haven’t found the rhythm of the song yet,” I said in a soothing tone.
“I don’t have an ounce of rhythm in my body. You’re going to get hurt,” he answered in an exasperated tone.
“It’s a good thing you’re a doctor then.” That got a smile out of him. “Now, just focus on me. Follow my lead. We’re only going to move in a circle to the right. When I step, you step. Got it?”
“Got it.”
He was so focused on not stepping on my feet that he didn’t attempt to carry on a conversation with me. By the time the song faded, he’d only stepped on my feet three more times.
“Mind if I cut in?” Dawson asked as Bret Michaels’ “All I Ever Needed” started to play.
♪ All I Ever Needed by Bret Michaels
Relief lifted Beckett’s features. “You are officially my most favorite person in the whole world. Izzy’s feet are forever in your debt.”
“Dancing not your cup of tea?” Dawson asked with a smirk.
“Not even a little bit. I inherited my dad’s complete lack of rhythm. Please, dance. I’m going to go get a drink.”
Beckett tucked my hand into Dawson’s warm one. With a spin, Dawson twirled me deeper onto the floor. I settled into the familiar space within his hold. As his feet matched the beat of the song, he pulled me along until my feet found the steps of our dance from years ago. Shock dropped my jaw as he led me through quick steps, twirls, dips and everything in between.
“You remembered.” It wasn’t a question.
“I remember everything, Izzy. Even the routine you choreographed for us to do at senior prom because you’d watched all those dance movies,” he said earnestly, his eyes sparkling.
I couldn’t believe he remembered the steps. He’d teased me mercilessly when we practiced. But like a saint, he went along with it because it was what I wanted. After a few more complicated steps, we both giggled and settled into dancing like normal people. Well, normal people with a mountain of past wedged between them.
I glimpsed a scrap of red peeking out from his leather wrist band. It couldn’t be. Could it? Dragging my thumb across his palm, I pressed against the thread. A shift of his hand caused the rest of the red item to come into view. It was a bracelet made of red thread with a hint of pink. A friendship bracelet I’d made for him years ago. The matching one was stashed away in my jewelry box.
“Still wearing that old thing,” I teased, though my throat caught.
“It’s one of my most prized possessions.”
I leaned back, gauging the sincerity of his words.
His eyes tic-tocked over my face. Searching. Finding.
“I’ve really missed your face,” he murmured, his voice husky.
“Me too.” I didn’t even hear the words, but he either heard them or read my lips because joy lit up his features like the sun.
“I don’t want to go back,” he said.
“Back to where?”
“Back to not talking or seeing each other. Please say you want me in your life again.” His eyes shone with so many emotions, I couldn’t decipher them all. Definitely hope, desire, affection, regret, and… love?
I swallowed hard. I did want him in my life. But what would it cost me? My control? My sanity? My new life? My heart?
“Flutterby?”
“Dawson, for years you were my very best friend before we were anything. And when it all fell apart, I didn’t just lose my boyfriend and lover, I lost the most important person to ever be in my life. I do want us to be friends again. But I’m scared. So much happened. So much has changed,” I whispered, unable to be less than honest with him.
“Shh.” He squeezed my hand. “We’ll take it one conversation at a time. You were my everything. Are my everything. I can’t be without you. We’ll go as
slowly as you need, so long as you promise you’ll try.”
I tucked my head under his chin, so I could listen to his heart beat in time with mine. Everything in that moment was so right… and so wrong. I didn’t have the ability to say no to his request. “I promise I’ll try.”
The song went on too long yet ended too soon. As he ushered me back to the table where Beckett waited, my heart was more conflicted than ever.
Beckett beamed at me as I slid into my seat. “That right there put my pathetic shuffle to shame. Where did you two learn to dance like that?”
“Izzy made up the routine after watching a bunch of dance movies. Then she made Dawson learn the steps so they could be the center of attention at our senior prom,” Brittany said, shaking her head, no doubt recalling the crowd’s response to our antics. Our senior prom experience was something Dawson and I planned together. It wasn’t quite the same as junior prom where he surprised me. But senior prom at both our schools were moments to cherish and remember.
♪ I Remember You by Skid Row
“Did it work?” Beckett asked.
“What do you think?” Brittany scoffed.
“I think they were probably the talk of the prom,” he retorted.
“You’d be right, Dr. Beckett,” I said with a smile.
“I’m in awe. And you still remembered the steps after all this time too. Very impressive.” Beckett planted a kiss on my cheek. “I hope you don’t expect to twirl around like that at the fundraising ball in a few weeks.”
“Your shuffle-squash-my-toes routine will be just fine,” I teased.
“Hardy-har-har. So, Dawson, do you fill your down time with dancing?” Beckett leaned forward to look at Dawson.
“Ha… no. I only danced for Izzy.” He smiled at me, warming every cell in my body, sending healing fire along the cracks of my heart.
“What to do you do on the tour bus to keep from dying of boredom?” Beckett asked.
“Write. Read. Play video games. Sleep.” Dawson ticked off the items on his fingers
“Sounds exciting. You read any good books lately?” Beckett asked. He loved to read biographies and science fiction.
“Recently, I read a book by an indie author, Katy Regnery called After We Break.”
“You’re reading contemporary romance novels?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Yeah. I still like them.” He shrugged.
“How do you know that book, Isabelle? I thought you only read mysteries and thrillers,” Beckett asked.
“I used to read a lot of contemporary romance, especially rocker romance. Seems a bit indulgent that you’d be reading about rock stars, huh, Dawson?” I teased.
“Maybe. But that book is more about second chances. I highly recommend it. Izzy here is the one who got me interested in indie authors. And if I remember correctly, that book was on her to-be-read list. And I read that series you recommended to me years ago by Cassia Leo—the Shattered Hearts series. It was a second-chance romance too. You’re the one who made me a sucker for those types of stories. And speaking of your to-be-read list, I have a new one for you to add. Lee Piper’s Lie to Me is another one in the same vein.” He took a sip of his drink.
“You mean rocker romance,” I said with a giggle.
“Well, yeah. But I meant second chances,” he said with a smirk.
“Did you guys share book recommendations or something?” Beckett asked, his brow furrowing as he tried to figure out our veiled conversation.
“Or something,” I murmured as Dawson explained, “When I was traveling, it was easy to feel disconnected from everything that mattered. From home. Izzy and I would pick a book to read together. We’d talk about it every day. It helped keep me grounded and connected doing a mundane task with her.”
“Makes sense. What all did you two read?” Beckett asked, ever the curious one.
“We read news articles together and some magazines—” I started.
“And some mysteries. A few horror stories, but not if Izzy was going to be home alone,” Dawson chuckled.
“Hey, some of those books were uber creepy. Like that book Dead Silence by KG Reuss.” I shuddered remembering the haunted girl and the shadow who was always lurking. “They gave me nightmares and made me paranoid,” I defended myself in a huff.
“We read some sci-fi. But mostly we read romance novels because they were Izzy’s favorites. We even read—”
My face flushed deep red. “Don’t you say it.”
“The book that shall remain nameless. Actually, the whole trilogy that shall remain nameless,” he offered with mischief glittering in his eyes.
Oh, hell. The heat was no longer confined to my face. It was racing south at breakneck speeds as I recalled the pleasure we got out of reading that particular trilogy together. “I can’t believe you would tell anyone you read that yourself,” I admonished, still mortified he hinted that he and I read that together.
Humor filled his tone as he said, “Hey, it was totally worth reading to see you turn fifty shades of red.”
Like now. “Kill me now,” I muttered under my breath. Thankfully, Beckett didn’t seem to get the joke.
Brittany popped up between us, interrupting and saving me from my embarrassment. I hadn’t even noticed that she’d got up and left after we returned from dancing. “Come on, Isabelle. They’re about to play our jam.”
“What? No,” I protested as she tugged on my hand.
I was torn between staying to see how much more embarrassing the conversation at the table could get or following Brittany to the dance floor. The beat to “Low” by Flo Rida started, and I shook my head. There was no way I was getting on the dance floor with her. Not in this dress and certainly not in these shoes.
♪ Low by Flo Rida
“I don’t think I can remember the routine,” I whined.
“Yes, you can. It’s like riding a bike. You never forget the steps,” Brittany urged.
“B-but my shoes—”
“Take ‘em off.” She leaned down and unfastened her own.
With a sigh, I bent over and unbuckled my strappy shoes, then got to my feet.
“Have fun,” Dawson called behind me.
Stepping into the empty space in front of the DJ, I listened for a couple of beats. Brittany was right, I didn’t forget the steps.
Memory took over as I slipped into the hip-hop routine we learned in dance class our sophomore year. In spite of myself, I started to let loose and have fun, for the first time in over two years. Dancing with Brittany was liberating. So when the song ended, I stayed out there with her. On the dance floor, with the pulse of the music making my heart beat, I was able to forget the confusion I felt sitting at the table, torn between my past and my present.
Chapter 4
Dawson
“Izzy dances? I mean not just slow dances, but like really dances?” Beckett asked as we all watched the pair of girls move in perfect synchrony on the floor.
♪ Moves by Olly Murs
I chuckled and took in the bewildered expression on his face. “Yeah. She’s been dancing since she was a kid. Ballet, tap, hip-hop. She was always a natural at it. But she never loved it like she loved art. To her, dancing was another form of art. A way of expressing herself. But dance didn’t have the permanence of creating.”
Beckett nodded with my assessment. “Makes sense I guess. But she never dances. Not even around the house when she’s cleaning. I had no idea that she was so… good at it.”
“Izzy doesn’t go out dancing anymore? Since when?” The girl I knew couldn’t be still.
My blood heated as a familiar beat dropped. I couldn’t take my eyes off Izzy teaching her grandmother how to wobble. Closing my eyes, I could still feel her pressed against me, wobbling with me so many times in the past. Beckett’s voice dragged me out of the delicious hell I was traveling towards in my mind.
“I’ve never known her to go out at all. I mean, when we met, she wasn’t in any condition to go out. And the
n when she got better, she didn’t go out. Except to find inspiration.”
“So, how serious are things?” I asked.
“You mean her illness or our relationship?” he asked nonchalantly.
What the hell? May as well ask what I really want to know, no one was paying attention to our conversation anyway. “Um… Let’s go with your relationship.”
“It’s still young. But I think a lot of her. She’s a very special person. And ah… I only met her parents outside of the hospital last month. Oh, I did ask her to move to Atlanta, but she’s still thinking about it,” he rambled.
“What do your parents think of her?” I asked.
“They haven’t met her yet. My dad’s a doctor for Doctors Without Borders, so he and my mom live overseas. I haven’t seen them in two years.” Beckett took a sip of his water.
“Following in your dad’s footsteps, huh?” My gaze strayed back to the dance floor. Nana was getting her groove on, and Izzy seemed genuinely happy.
“Yeah, and my granddad’s. Watching my dad fix people as a kid made me really want to heal people. I can’t really put the feelings into words.” He leaned forward, resting his head in his hands.
“So, would you want your kid to become a doctor too? Keep up the family tradition.” I was curious about the type of future Izzy might have with this man.
“I don’t want kids. That’s actually one of the things Isabelle and I bonded over,” he explained.
“Huh?” I couldn’t have heard him right. Izzy had always wanted to be a mom.
“Yeah, neither of us wants to be parents. It’s so strange how everyone just assumes when you reach a certain age that this desire to procreate switches on. It was nice to have the pressure of that conversation not be an issue when we started dating. We both already wanted the same thing, so neither of us had to talk the other into a different way of thinking.”
“I see.” But I didn’t see. Not at all. Had Izzy really changed that much in two years? I needed to change the subject before I corrected him on his views about Izzy and motherhood.
Songs of the Heart: Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 3 Page 5
