Love at The Bluebird

“I’ve loved music since I was a child, but I can’t play an instrument or sing for the life of me.” She laughs, captivating me with the sparkle in her eye. “When I had to decide what I wanted to do when I grew up, I thought combining music and taking care of people would be the perfect job, but I don’t think being an A&R assistant fits that description.”

“It’s not easy getting into this business, so obviously, you impressed your bosses. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re in the perfect job, because you do help artists with their career.”

“Thanks, but lately it just hasn’t felt very satisfying. I don’t know…” She looks away. “I’ve just been questioning if I made the right career choice.” Understanding the lost look in her expression, I wish we were sitting next to each other so I could hold her, but instead, I do the next best thing and reach for her hand to squeeze it.

“One hundred percent, you made the right career choice. I mean, are you or are you not sitting here with me now?” I joke, hoping to see that sparkle back in her eyes.

She smiles then rolls her eyes. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I am.” I lift her hand and kiss her fingers then ask, “Are most of your clients in the rock genre?”

She casts her eyes down and gives me a shy smile while peeking at me through her lashes. “Even though I listen to all types of music, classic and indie rock are my favorites. My boss likes to keep me happy, so he lets me take care of our clients in those genres.”

“Do you like anyone in country music?” I release her hand and sit back to cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at her in a teasing manner. Her eyes follow my movements and linger a little bit on my biceps before moving up to my face.

“Some,” she says hesitantly, making me question if she really does or if she’s just saying that to amuse me.

“Name them,” I challenge and bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud at her exasperated look. I can see the wheels in her head start to turn as she attempts to name someone, and I know in that instant country music is probably her least favorite genre.

“Keith Urban!” she says loudly in excitement, pride shining in her eyes for remembering his name.

“Do you only know of him because he’s married to a famous actress you like?” I question, trying not to laugh.

“No, I actually like him. One of my favorite songs by him is ‘Somebody Like You.’ It also helps that he’s cute and Australian. Accents are kinda my thing.” She winks, causing me to swallow down the uncomfortable pain I’m in from how hard she’s got me. Thank God the waitress arrives at that moment. We both eye each other’s order then dig in, picking off one another’s plate while we continue talking. Before we know it, the hour is up and it’s time for us to leave, so I pay the bill, grab Aly’s hand, and escort her out of the restaurant.

“I had a really great time tonight,” I tell her, bringing her small hand up to my mouth to kiss her knuckles as we stroll back toward the Exit/In.

“Me too.” Her smile is small and shy as we walk in silence. I glance down at her, noticing that pink has spread up her cheeks as the sexual tension radiates between us.

“Are you leaving?” she questions when I stop next to my truck. I nod, and disappointment screams from her eyes, making me feel like a fucking asshole for having to leave her.

“I have to go back to the studio tonight. We didn’t get to finish the song we were working on. We’re close, so it should only be a couple more hours.”

“You weren’t done working?” Her gaze fills with surprise. “Gavin, you didn’t have to meet me tonight. We could have met up tomorrow.” She attempts to let go of my hand and tries to take a step back, but I refuse to let go of her. I grab her wrist and haul her up against me, wrapping my arms around her so she can’t escape.

“I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to see you again.” I feel her arms close around my waist, her touch sending warm sensations up my spine. I can’t help the low groan that escapes when I watch her gently bite her bottom lip again.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur while memorizing the shape of her face and those warm eyes of hers that I know will haunt my dreams. I push a piece of her hair behind her ear and lightly caress her cheek. Her eyes lock on mine, and I can tell she’s searching for something—for what, I don’t know, but whatever it is, I want her to find it within me. I feel her squeeze me tighter, and listen to her breath coming out faster as her gaze travels down to my lips.