Songs of the Heart: Lyrical Odyssey Rock Star Series Book 3

by B. Rose, Charli

  "And you used to listen to all genres of music, not just country," he said, ticking off another of his observations.

  "People's taste change as they grow up. Country music is full of stories. They're a nice distraction from life." And there were very few country songs tangled up with Dawson memories.

  "And you used to read romance novels all the time." He turned left at the end of the road.

  "I was delusional about life. I thought happily ever afters existed. Then I nearly died. Put things into a new perspective." I dragged my fingernails up and down the denim covering my thighs, creating a light grating noise.

  "And you watch trashy, daytime TV."

  "You take that back. Elle is not trashy. I can't help it. I love how she gets to the heart of matters without resorting to sleazy ambush tricks," I defended my viewing choices.

  He chuckled and smirked at me. "And don't even get me started on your love of dancing. Holy hell, I had no idea you could not only move like that, but that you enjoyed it so much."

  "Oh, I see. You want me to dance for you when we get home? Maybe do a strip tease?" I tried to lighten the mood.

  Heat flared in his eyes as he looked over at me, then turned back to the road. "Damn, that would be hot. But quit trying to distract me with sex. It wasn't just about how sexy you looked out there on the floor dancing with your friends. It was about how dancing changed something in you. I never really noticed before because I didn't have a proper frame of reference. But you're incredibly reserved. You keep everything on a tight leash. On the dance floor, you looked happy in a way I've never seen before. Euphoric. Free."

  "I was just having fun. And I tried to get you to dance more," I said.

  And oh, my goodness, it was incredible slow dancing with Dawson. I’d gone back to my parents’ house so turned on after grinding with him on the dance floor after Beckett begged off fast dancing with me. Thankfully, I was able to take care of things in the shower before I fell asleep. I’d never be able to listen to “I’m the One” by DJ Khaled without my blood racing again.

  ♪ I’m the One by DJ Khaled

  I felt awful. Beckett was so trusting. Hell, he encouraged me to get on the dance floor with Dawson for the bump and grind fest that was going on. He had no idea the conflicting thoughts filling my head and heart. I was a terrible person. The weight of his gaze pressed on me before he concentrated on changing lanes.

  Once we were safely across three lanes of traffic, he continued, "I’m not worried about being left out. My point is you were having fun. So much fun. You haven't let yourself have fun for as long as I've known you."

  "I'm pretty sure, realigning your priorities is normal when you have a near death experience." I stared out the window at the convenience store parking lot he'd just pulled into.

  Shifting in his seat, he turned to face me and plucked my hand from where it fidgeted in my lap. "It is. But I'm worried that this person you've let yourself retreat into is more than a simple realigning. You eliminated anything from your life that was... chaotic. Crazy hair. Loud, upbeat music. Emotion filled books. Dancing and partying. Having fun. Even your art shifted from vibrant, happy pieces to pale, melancholy ones. It troubles me that in your need to cling to control, you seem to have lost yourself. And I never even realized it because this—" He waved his hand at me. "—is the only version of you I've ever seen."

  ♪ Living Not Alive by the Veer Union

  "I'm sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep part of myself from you or anything. I'd never intentionally hurt you. When I met you, I was at a really low point. I was scared and sad and so many other negative things. I kind of lost bits of myself along the way. And now this is who I am." This version of me was safe, stable.

  His free hand cupped my jaw and stroked my cheek tenderly. "I think you need to take some time and try to pick up those bits of yourself. I care so much about you. I want to build a future with you. That’s why I wanted you to move to Georgia and get a place with me. But I'm not sure you're ready to move just yet. I want to make sure when you move in with me, you bring all the vital parts of yourself along. I don't want to see you as a shell of yourself. Don't get me wrong, I really like this serious version of you, with blonde hair neatly in a bun. The girl who takes studio photographs, who reads mysteries and scientific articles, who’d rather curl up with me on the couch and watch a movie than go to some loud club where we can't even talk. But I also think there are parts of you that you'd be happier if you embraced again. There's a counselor I've sent some of the other research trial patients to who I think could help you." His eyes searched mine, the affection pouring out of him, wrapping me in a blanket.

  "OK. And I think you're right about moving. I'm not ready yet. I'm sorry. Thanks for giving me some time on that front," I said, relieved I didn’t have to bring it up myself.

  "Sweetheart, I'll never rush you into anything." His lips captured mine in a sweet, warm kiss. After a few moments, he deepened it, and I responded. The whole time I willed my heart to race, for butterflies to take flight, for my breath to quicken. Anything to signal that I was moving in the right direction.

  When he pulled away, his breath was short, and lust filled his eyes. "I'm going to run in and grab you a water. Be right back." His thumb stroked my cheek as he let go.

  "Thanks."

  After he'd been gone a few minutes, a text alert sounded from my purse. Once I dug it out, one glance at the screen was all it took for the butterflies to start fluttering. Damn them.

  Dawson: It was so good to see you again after all this time.

  Me: It was good to see you too.

  Dawson: I'm glad you said we could talk. I NEED you in my life.

  Me: Can never have too many good friends.

  Dawson: For now.

  Me: ???

  Dawson: Friends for now. But I want more. I want YOU. I'll wait for you. I'm a patient man. I hope you remember just how patient I can be.

  My mouth ran dry. Rapid breathing ensued as I recalled all the times he'd shown just how patient he could be as he would get me so wracked with pleasure I'd be delirious while he patiently denied his own release. I could not go down that road with him.

  Me: Friends is what I need.

  Dawson: I'll be what you need. I'm sorry I wasn't before.

  Me: Forgiven.

  Dawson: Talk soon. I'll be thinking of you.

  Me too. But I didn't respond. The door opened causing me to jump guiltily. I shoved my phone under my thigh.

  Beckett leaned forward and kissed me again heatedly. Holding the water bottle out to me, he said, "Now, take your pill. And when we get to your place, I'll take you up on the offer of that strip tease."

  My traitorous heart was still pounding. Too bad it was from some texts and not what would make things easier. "Sure thing. I'll even take song requests."

  ♪ Back to You by Selena Gomez

  He moaned. “You get to drift off to dream, while I have to drive two hours with a hard-on.”

  “I’ll make it up to you when we get back to Charleston.” I winked. He deserved my effort. He’d saved my life and salvaged the scraps of my heart. So, what if it beat in time with another’s?

  As I leaned my head against the window, my phone vibrated under my leg. Though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t resist. Peeking one eye open, I glanced at Beckett who was engrossed with merging onto the highway. Stealthily, I slid it from beneath me.

  Dawson: ***

  Damn him. I clutched the phone to my heart as a tear snaked down my cheek. Twenty-five-year-old me was still just as affected by those three damn asterisks as sixteen-year-old me was…

  * * *

  “What time did you say your parents were going to be home?” Dawson asked as his fingers combed through my hair.

  I picked up my head and gazed at his sparkling eyes and lip gloss coated lips. With my thumb, I rubbed my strawberry shimmer from his mouth with a smirk. “Not before five-thirty. Why? You want to fool around some more?”

&nb
sp; “Insatiable, huh?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  I elbowed him but didn’t deny it. The more we kissed, the more we touched, the more I wanted.

  Orgasms were pretty addictive, so I was learning. Though prom night was a couple of months ago, we hadn’t gone that far again. Yet. Not for lack of trying on my part.

  “No, I was asking because I want to keep lying here with you in my arms. But I don’t want your parents to catch us. I don’t want them to feel like I’ve betrayed their trust,” he explained.

  “I understand. How about I text Mom and ask her if it’s OK if you come hang out and stay for dinner?” I shifted my head so I could stare at him.

  “Sounds good.”

  Grabbing my phone, I fired off a message to Mom with lightning speed. Her response was instant.

  “What’d she say?” he asked anxiously.

  “She said that she was surprised you weren’t already over here and asked what you wanted for dinner.”

  “God, I love your family.” His lips pressed to my brow.

  “They love you too.”

  “Tell her I want those smothered pork chops she makes if it isn’t too much trouble.” He licked his lips.

  Once I’d lined the dinner menu up, I rested my chin on his chest. “Speaking of texts, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

  “Sounds ominous.” His fingers skated down my spine until they gripped my hip. He nudged me on top of him.

  “Nah. You started a few months ago signing off on your texts with three stars. I know x’s mean kisses and o’s mean hugs and hearts mean… well… love. But what do stars mean?”

  His hand cupped my cheek. “Well, the star on the left is me, and the star on the right side is you. And the star in the middle is halfway between us where our hearts reside.”

  I could’ve swooned at his words. “That has to be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I mashed my mouth to his and proceeded to lead us towards the destination I’d been longing for since prom.

  * * *

  It felt like I’d just closed my eyes when there was a nudge against my thigh. Slowly, my lids cracked open, and I peered around.

  “I can’t believe we’re back already.” I stretched and climbed out of the car.

  “Car rides go really quickly when you’re sleeping,” Beckett mused as he took our bags from the trunk.

  Beep, beep. His car sounded as he unlocked it to stow his bag inside. He fell in step beside me, my bag slung over his shoulder. Playfully, I bumped him with my shoulder, then wrapped my arm around his waist, stealing his warmth as the wind whipped across the parking lot.

  “Sorry I’m such a bad riding partner. Even when I was a kid, I always got car sick if the ride was over thirty minutes long,” I spoke up at him.

  “No problem. I listened to some good music while you slept.” He inserted my key into the lock, then held the door open for me.

  “Did you happen to hear a song that inspired you?” I asked his back as he moved to set my bag on the chair.

  He turned fully towards me, confusion knitting his brow. “What?”

  I stepped up to him and ran my hand over his abdomen. “You know, a song for that strip tease I owe you. I’m kinda looking forward to it.” My hips started to sway to the music in my mind.

  He swallowed hard, closed his eyes and tipped his head to the ceiling. “About that… I… uh… have to get on the road. Something came up and I need to get back home. Sorry.” His hand came up to stop my wandering one.

  “OK. Raincheck I guess.” I examined his face. Something was off. He wouldn’t meet my gaze. “Is something wrong?”

  “Nah. Just distracted.” Strong fingers gripped my shoulders as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to my mouth. “Sorry to rush off. I’ll call you later, OK?”

  “It’s OK. I understand. Drive safely, and I’ll talk to you tonight.”

  Rising to my tiptoes, I planted my mouth on his one last time before he moved around me towards the door.

  “Bye,” I whispered to the closing door.

  Before I could ponder Beckett’s strange behavior any longer, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Dawson: Hope you made it home safely.

  Me: Just walked in the door about five minutes ago.

  I stared at the scrolling three dots for what felt like forever before his reply popped up.

  Dawson: Tell Beckett I said it was great meeting him.

  Me: I will when I talk to him tonight.

  Dawson: ??

  Dawson: I thought you just got home?

  Me: I did. And Beckett had to get back to Ga.

  Dawson: Ahh

  What now? It never used to be this awkward talking to him. After tucking my phone into my pocket, I hoisted up my bag and padded down the hallway to my room. I started unpacking.

  Dawson: So, what are you doing the rest of the day?

  Me: Trying to figure out the rest of my art exhibit.

  Dawson: Remind me when that is again?

  Me: Weekend after your concert in SC.

  Dawson: That’s right. Unfortunately, it’s the same weekend as our show in Ohio.

  Me: That’s too bad. What time are you and Brooks leaving?

  Dawson: Soon. Hopefully. Still waiting on him to get back.

  Me: Where did he go?

  Dawson: IDK. He didn’t come back to Dad’s last night. Said he’d see me before our flight.

  Me: Please tell me he didn’t hook up with my cousin.

  Dawson: April?

  Me: Yeah. You know how she is.

  Dawson: I remember. Hopefully Brooks is OK.

  Me: Yeah.

  Dawson: I’ll let you get to work

  Me: K. Talk soon

  Dawson: ***

  ♪ Wonderful Life by Alter Bridge

  I tossed my phone onto the bed without responding. Once I got my laundry going, I moved around the room putting other things away.

  Opening the wooden lid to the jewelry box my dad had given me for my tenth birthday, I inhaled the scent of cherry wood and velvet. The strand of pearls slipped from my fingers and clattered to the jumbled mess at the bottom. For some reason, I riffled through the bottom until I unearthed my friendship bracelet. I ran it through my fingers and let my mind fill with red threads. Twisting. Intertwining. Separating. Taking shape in my mind.

  * * *

  Days ran together as I sketched and shredded ideas for the central piece of my art show. Creating was interrupted only by eating, sleeping and quick chats with Beckett and Dawson.

  I’d totally lost track of what day it was when my phone signaled a text.

  Beckett: Don’t forget LO will be on that show today. <3 ya.

  Me: Thanks. Call me after. <3

  I’d totally forgotten. I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until it would be on. Just enough time to fix some lunch. After a detour to the kitchen, I sank into the corner of the couch just as the theme music started.

  “Hi guys. Have I got a special treat for you today. Our entire show today will be centered around your favorite rock group and mine, Lyrical Odyssey. Let’s give them a warm welcome,” Elle announced to the audience.

  The camera panned to show Dawson and his bandmates set up onstage with their instruments. My heart hammered in my chest at the sight of him.

  “They’re going to play us a song before we start digging in to get to know these guys better,” Elle announced.

  Tap, tap, tap. Dawson’s fingers lightly drummed the mic. To the casual observer, it would seem he was just making sure the mic was on. But I knew better. I knew the significance of his symbol. I held my breath to see if he’d follow it up with his other sign to me.

  “How are you guys doin’ out there?” he shouted to the crowd. The audience went wild. “As you all know, we love paying tribute to other great musicians by covering their songs. So, we’re going to start with a very special cover. Hope you like it.”

  ♪ I’ll Be The
re for You by Bon Jovi

  His fingers shifted on the strings, and he strummed the E-minor chord three times. The breath rushed out as his special sign hit my ears. The band transitioned into playing Bon Jovi’s song for Elle, while my mind lingered on the three E-minors. I slipped back in time to when E-minor became the most important combination of notes in my world…

  * * *

  “Why so sad, flutterby?” His fingers stroked my cheek. We were waiting offstage for sound check to start.

  As my time on the tour wound down, I’d become more withdrawn. Spending every day with Dawson had spoiled me. I didn’t want to go back to a life where we were ruled by time zones, rushed calls and weeks between visits.

  Tears filled my eyes. “I’m just going to miss you so much when I leave tomorrow.”

  “I’m gonna miss you too. So damn much.” His thumb rubbed across my lip.

  “But you’re going to be too busy to think of me that much,” I protested. I hated the whiny tone to my voice, but I lacked the motivation to suck it up.

  “I will never be so busy that you won’t be forefront in my mind. I swear to you.” His eyes were so serious as they stared into mine.

  I didn’t want to waste the time we had left arguing. We were about to face the longest stretch of time apart we’d had so far. The road was full of distractions and temptations. I’d seen them firsthand while I’d followed them myself all summer. Dawson never looked twice at the groupies. But my heart still worried what a prolonged absence would mean for us.

  I fused my mouth to his, pouring all my fear, worries and love into the kiss. Our nirvana was shattered by feedback from the stage and a booming voice shouting, “Dawson, you’re needed on stage.”