A Love Song for Lucifer: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance (Leading Ladies)

by Willa Lively

  “Good morning,” I say, cracking through the sleep in my voice.

  “You made me famous!” She yells.

  “I’m sorry,” I say instinctively from being yelled at and still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “Wait, what?”

  “What? Don’t apologize! Wait, what time is it there. Oh, crap. I definitely woke you, didn’t I? I just got a break for lunch and had to call. You’ve got to check your phone.”

  “Hold on, I’m putting you on speaker.”

  I look at my phone and see it’s 6:15 AM. I’ve set my phone to basically no notifications so I pull up each app, but sure enough there are thousands and thousands of new followers and engagements on all of them.

  “How the hell did this happen?”

  “That song, ‘Angelica’, which is absolutely epic by the way, blew up because, well, you basically described every girl imagining their ex moving on. But yeah, then people picked up on our New Year’s performance of ‘You Sexy Thing’ from your account and now I have a ton of followers too. Melody, how can I ever thank you?”

  “Just get your butt to New York City,” I answer, walking to the kitchen to brew coffee.

  “Deal,” Lumi agrees.

  We hang up and I sit, dumbstruck, listening to the drips of my coffee brewing. What the hell do I do now? This kind of attention is all I ever thought I needed to feel good about myself, but when I finally posted it last night, it wasn’t about wanting praise. It was about making a promise to myself that I would be a little more vulnerable. But I didn’t expect to feel this vulnerable and this fast.

  And I know the last person I should think about is Lucien, but of course I’m thinking about him. I want to call him and tell him about it, because my gut, the part of me I’ve been trying to shove so deep down that I forget about it, knows he woke something up inside me that made me realize being vulnerable might be worth it. It’s probably a delusional thought, as being vulnerable with him has left me in nothing but pain for the last month. Yet, I still wouldn’t take any of our time together back if I have the choice.

  I get up suddenly and rush to the backpack I had with me on the plane ride back with him. I haven’t been able to bring myself to take out my notebook with all my stupid notes and lyrics about falling in love with Lucien and even debated throwing it onto the New York City streets with the trash. But there it is, patiently waiting for me with my favorite green pen tucked into the spine.

  I open up to the song I was working on last in the notebook, the song for him. My heart physically aches rereading the words. Sure, it aches over how naïve I was, but also at how much I felt.

  My breath stops when I notice another handwriting beneath my own.

  Music needs a Melody

  What is this? I didn’t write this? I read on.

  And she’s the perfect one

  Her voice is my favorite sound

  And the song has just begun

  I take a deep breath, trying to subdue the fire dancing across my cheeks and the watering in my eyes. Lucien must have written this while I was sleeping. The rush of him comes back to me and, for a second, it feels so good to just think about him without the lens of anger. To imagine him writing this while I sleep next to him. And I’m reminded of the reason this has been so painful, because in my deepest instinct I know what we had was real and so much of this pain is because I truly miss him. I miss the man who could complete my lyrics.

  Yet, why hadn’t I given him a chance to explain?

  Because I couldn’t handle hearing him giving me the wrong reason. I couldn’t handle another rejection.

  Except I should have made him tell me, and maybe we could have worked it out. I should have at least listened.

  I get an urge to call him, but I jump in surprise when I hear the buzzer for my apartment go off. I look at my phone for a missed call, but there isn’t anything. I warily go over to the buzzer and press the intercom.

  “Hello?”

  “Uh, hi. I saw your light was on. Melody, can I come up? I need to talk to you.”

  Lucien. He saw my light go on? What was he doing, waiting outside?

  “Uh,” I take a deep breath, rendered temporarily speechless. “Yeah, okay,” I finally say with hesitance. I buzz him up and crack the door for him to come through while I pour a cup of coffee, despite my adrenaline now pumping.

  His long frame peeks around the edge of the door warily and relaxes when he sees me at the table. He’s wearing black sports pants and a blue crewneck sweatshirt and looks completely exhausted, but even that can’t stop him from taking my breath away. After not seeing him for so long, the sight of him hits me hard and with no mercy.

  “Melody,” he charges toward me. I sit at the table and gesture at him to sit down with me. I don’t want this to end like it did last time. I want to hear whatever he has to say.

  He sits down, watching me as he does. “I was outside just waiting, unsure what the hell to do, then I saw your lights go on and I just needed to talk to you right away.”

  “Why now?” I ask, genuinely confused. The timing is weird considering my video went up last night.

  “Because I had this big plan for what I felt I needed to do to try to make it up to you, to try to win you back.” My heart races with his words. Win me back?

  “But then of course you go and get famous overnight, and sleep through it by the way.” A small smile dances across his lips when he says that, but his face grows serious again quickly. “But I couldn’t sleep. I’ve been up all night debating what to do because I didn’t want you to think I only created my plan after you blew up online.”

  “Plan?” I sip my coffee to hide my smile. I don’t want to be smiling, but he looks so frazzled and I can’t help but find it adorable.

  “Yeah, I well… I bought this…” I stop him right there. I don’t want any of this to be tainted by something he bought me or something he is giving me.

  “Luc, stop,” I say. “I’m glad you came here. I was actually thinking about you before you buzzed in.”

  His face softens at these words. I continue.

  “I should have let you explain why you wanted to end things. Whatever it was would still hurt like hell, but I should have at least learned why.”

  “Melody,” he places his hand over my hand and my blood quickens at his touch. “I was so fucking dumb.” He takes a long breath before he speaks again. “My father made it clear that dating you was a perfect strategic move to get the heat off of De la Roche Records for canceling all those contracts. He thought if everyone could point to you as having forgiven the company, it would discourage lawsuits from the others.”

  I let his words sink in. The idea infuriates me, using my weakest moment for their corporate gain. But I also notice that my body doesn’t have the same gut reaction of humiliation to him mentioning me being cut from my record deal.

  He continues with his eyes glued to mine. “I didn’t want you to be used and dragged through my shit like that and I figured there was no other option if we were dating. I was the CEO of De la Roche Records and people would pick up on you being my girlfriend in no time.”

  It sinks it what he is saying. “Was the CEO?”

  He nods, a small smile breaking at the corner of his eyes. “I thought there was no way for me to live without my father’s company, but I realized I had it all wrong. I actually couldn’t live as the man I had to be to run that company. I couldn’t live without being able to be with the one woman I want to be with. You, Mel. I resigned and am starting my own company. Which brings me to…”

  “Luc,” I interrupt him again. I can’t hold it in any longer. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I doubted you and didn’t even let you tell me what was going on. I was just so afraid of what you would say.” My voice comes out gravelly and disturbed. I feel like such an asshole, because I know immediately in my heart that what he’s saying is true. This fits with who I think Luc is, who I feel he is. I painted this detailed, fantastical story about him not choosing me for a
million terrible reasons, but really it was one somewhat understandable, if even a little stupid, reason. He was trying to protect me. And this whole time he’s been going through it alone, when I should have been by his side.

  “No, Mel, I’m sorry,” his voice matches mine.

  “I’m sorry,” I say with a small smile.

  “I’m damn sorry,” he pushes his chair out and stands facing me.

  “I’m so damn sorry,” I push my chair out to match him.

  He steps in closer to me, taking my face in his hand. “I’m so damn fucking sorry,” he whispers.

  I bring my hand to his face, tracing his stubbled jaw. And I have no more ‘sorry’ left in me, only the ability to bring my lips to his.

  I tilt my head up and take his soft lips into my own. The scent that I’ve tried so hard to forget makes me go dizzy from the pleasure of it filling me up. His kiss is gentle and comforting and I’ve missed it so much. I can finally admit to myself just how much I’ve missed this man.

  He brings his head back.

  “Mel, let me show you my plan to get you back.”

  “Luc,” I laugh. “You already got me back.”

  “I did?”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, of course we should take it slow.”

  “Oh,” he looks disappointed.

  “You don’t want to take it slow?”

  “Well, when you see what I was planning, it’s not exactly slow.”

  “Okay, okay, you win. You can show me what you planned. Let me get changed.”

  A big grin spreads across his face and I come up short trying to imagine what on earth kind of plan could make him smile that big.

  When I’m ready to go, I let him take my hand and lead me out the door.

  “Oh, and Mel?” He says looking back at me before he opens the door out of my apartment. “Who the hell is Angelica?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lucien

  With Melody finally near me again, all I want to do is strip down and hold her skin to skin, as close as two humans can possibly get. But I need to show her one last thing before I let myself do that. I need to make sure she knows what she means to me.

  We are bundled up against the icy February wind, walking along her street. Where we are going, we don’t need a driver.

  After a few blocks, we reach an old brick building that about one hundred years ago was a fabric factory. They decommissioned it and sold it to New York City Sanitation Department who uses it as storage. But not for long. It’s up for sale and I happen to be the number one party in line to purchase it. The realtor agreed to give me access today, hoping to finalize the sale. And I hope he sells it to me, too. Because if he does, that means Melody said yes.

  Melody’s face is crumpled in confusion as I unlock the enormous iron door.

  “I’ve always wondered what’s in this building,” she says as we step in.

  Right now it is filled with traffic cones, city road signs, and sandbags, but the space stretches out across the entire block. It is a huge industrial space and it might be hard to visualize the potential with the light barely getting through the milky windows, but I see our future unravel before my eyes in this very space.

  I take Melody’s hand and pull her through the maze of city equipment until we reach an opening where I arranged a little set-up to represent my hopes and dreams for us. Before us is an electric guitar, custom pink to match her hair, and a sign that reads, “The Devil’s Melody Media Co.”.

  I look to Melody, who’s blue eyes have gone big trying to make sense of the situation I’ve led her into.

  “Mel,” I start. “You don’t have to agree to anything yet if you don’t want, but this space is for sale and I want to buy it. I want to start a media company here, with you. I want you to have your own recording studio here.”

  Before I can go on, she takes a deep breath like she has something to say. She looks slightly agitated. Not exactly what I was hoping for.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask when she doesn’t start.

  “I don’t want you to think you have to buy me things. I just want you.”

  This makes me smile. I take her hand.

  “I don’t want to do this because I think it will win you back. I am doing this because you’re so damn talented and I would be lucky to have you alongside me in this. Even, hypothetically, if you were someone I wasn’t completely in love with, I would still believe in your talent. I want to support your skill and passion in any way possible because I think it will change the world.” I take a deep breath. I’ve practiced this so many times, but adrenaline is coursing through me and I can’t be sure I’m making sense. “And sure, fine, also because I want all of your dreams to come true and will do anything to make that happen.”

  Her mouth hangs open, her pink lips slack. I push my free hand through my hair nervously.

  “We can change the name, of course, it’s only one idea,” I add.

  “Luc,” she starts. I warm at her choosing to call me by my shortened name. I’ve learned that even ‘Lucifer’ is a warmer nickname than the cold, formal way she uses my full name. I watch her, trying to read what she’s about to say. Her eyes are big and I see that there are tears clinging to the rims of her eyes and threatening to drop any second.

  I take her hand in mine. “Are you okay?”

  She nods enthusiastically ‘yes’, and this is all it takes for her tears to run down her cheeks.

  “I’m,” she finally speaks in between quick breaths. “I’m just… really happy.” She takes another deep breath. “And I have a break-up album that’s already ready to be recorded.”

  I let out a deep laugh, a mix of joy and relief before grabbing her face in my hands. I use my thumb to wipe away a stream of tears running down her cheek.

  “We have so much to look forward to, Mel. We’re only at the beginning.”

  “You mean, ‘the song has just begun’?” She cocks her eyebrow at me with a smile, quoting the lyrics I wrote for her in her notebook.

  “Ah, you found that, huh?”

  She nods. “Right before you got here this morning. I love it.”

  “I love you,” I say it without thinking, but as soon as it comes out, it feels right. I already want to shout it again so it echoes off this high ceiling and brick walls.

  Her eyes look at me with surprise, yet again. I wonder if I’ll ever see her face make this expression so many times in one day again in my life. In that moment, I make a vow to myself that I will. On our anniversary, no fuck that, on random Tuesdays, I’ll sweep her off her feet so I can get this reaction over and over again. I wonder if I’ll still be able to get the same rise out of her when we’re 90 years old and she expects every one of my antics.

  Her surprised face transforms into a big, wide smile. “I love you, Luc. Now if you don’t start kissing me in the next second then I…”

  Before she can finish that threat, I bring my lips to hers, hungry and giving. Her fervor matches mine, our bodies pressed against each other.

  “I’ve missed…” I say as I gasp for air to go in for my next kiss.

  “You…” She pulls at my waist, begging me to, somehow, get closer to her.

  “So damn…” I breathe and grab her by her thighs, lifting her body up to straddle mine. I pin her against the brick wall and pull back to admire her.

  “So damn much.”

  She brings her hand up to my jaw and holds her eyes to mine. “Show me how much,” she whispers.

  “That’s going to take at least 80 years,” I nudge her nose with mine.

  “Well, then you better get started.”

  And I do.

  I kiss down her neck so I can breathe in as much of her as possible. Yet apparently for Mel, this is too slow. She reaches down through all our winter layers and finds the waistband of my pants and boxers and pushes them down with urgency. I assist her in finishing the job. It’s too cold in here to undress completely, but there is a way to warm up.

  I place her
on her feet to strip her jeans off before taking her back up around me as soon as I am done. We are moving desperately now, every second passed is agonizing.

  I’m already so hard for her and my thickness pushes into the crevice forming in her light pink panties.

  She reaches down between her legs and moves the lace to the side, and I groan in approval.

  “Please, Luc,” she grips the hair on the back of my head and pushes my mouth to hers desperately before breaking away. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

  And I can’t. I line myself up to her and push once and then again to take her completely up against the wall. I push deeper and she flexes over me. With this, there is nothing delicate left between us, only pure lust and need. It is not gentle, and it is not gradual. It is all of me and all of her in this moment, and we are holding nothing back from each other.

  She claws at my back and I pull her thighs tighter around my waist. I bite her bottom lip with a ferocious need to possess her, like I can’t get enough. She licks my teeth and my top lip with primal hunger.

  I move my hands to her perfect ass and pump her up and down onto me in quicker motions. She clenches around me as her breath quickens in my ear. I have a sudden need to finish with her, just so we can start this all over again. But not until I know she is going to come so hard that she sees the damn northern lights above us in the warehouse in Brooklyn.

  I drop her to the ground and fall to my knees, ripping down her soaked panties. I grab her hips and bury my face between her legs and lick her maniacally. There is no grace or teasing in my movements, only the singular focus of making her lose her mind.

  When her legs begin to shake and she can barely stand, I scoop her back up and drive deep into her.

  She is calling my name and I am calling hers as she trembles around me, writhing in bliss. It’s all I need to lose it. I pump into her so deep that my hips alone are pinning her to the wall. The climax hits me hard and fast. I close my eyes and hold on to Mel’s hands for dear life, feeling like I am being swept away in this moment.