“Sure.” She snorts.
“Pamela Scott!”
“Wish me luck!” She pats my leg as she breezes past me.
“Good luck,” I mutter.
More nervous than ever, I focus on studying my one page of lines.
Chapter Nine
Mallory
One of my favorite things about living with Chaser has to be the impromptu concerts I walk in on almost daily.
My mouth quirks as I open the door and find him on the couch strumming his guitar, every so often stopping to jot down a few words. Today, he’s intensely focused on playing the same succession of notes over and over.
I close the door behind me as quietly as possible, not wanting to disrupt his flow.
He tips his head up anyway.
“Whatever that was sounded awfully sexy.” I motion for him to continue playing.
“Yeah?” His mouth stretches into a smile, but the distance in his eyes says he’s still focused on music. “It’s this riff I’ve had in my head for a couple of years now.”
“Years?”
“We have a few half-assed lyrics for it, but I haven’t found the right melody.” He shrugs. “Alvin said he’s been working on something.”
“Wow.” I’m endlessly fascinated by their process and the way the guys seem to work together seamlessly, sometimes.
And other times how they want to rip out each other’s throats.
“Go on.” I wave my hands at him. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“Sit with me?”
“Sure.” I perch on the edge of the chair across from him and wait.
He reaches over and resets his metronome.
“You’re working with the metronome today?”
He shrugs. “It keeps me honest.”
I’m not sure how to interpret that but I’ve noticed he only uses it on occasion; other times, he prefers to sit and play whatever comes to him.
Over and over, he works on the same chords he’d been fiddling with when I came home. Sometimes humming along. Other times with his eyes closed.
Finally, he shakes his head and sets his guitar in its case.
“How was the audition?” he asks.
I shrug. At first it had been awkward, but the director was kind and put me at ease. “They want me to come back.”
“That’s awesome.” He stands and hugs me. “Proud of you, little dove.”
“Thanks.”
“We should celebrate.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Sure, it is.” He glances at his watch. “It’s too early to go out now. You want to head downstairs and see what Alvin’s come up with?”
“I would love that.” I turn toward the door and then hesitate. “Is Jacob going to be there?”
“Don’t know, honestly. Haven’t seen him yet.”
I stand tall, shoulders back, chin up. “Well, I’ll run into him eventually, right?”
“Thank you.” He approaches and grasps both my hands, holding tight. “Trust me, I made it clear how I feel about what he did.”
I huff out a laugh. “I can only imagine what that means.”
Downstairs, Garrett’s on the couch with two girls I don’t recognize and barely glances up when we come in. We find Alvin alone in the bedroom, running his fingers over a portable keyboard
He glances up and a slow smile stretches across his face when he sees us. “Hey, Mallory. Wasn’t sure you’d ever associate with us again.”
“I’ll always make an exception for you, Alvin.”
“I hope you know I had nothing to do with it.” His smile turns into more of a pained expression. “It was a shitty thing to do. I let Jacob know that.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“The tabloid was all bullshit.” Alvin leans toward me. “I was there that night. Chaser left those girls with me, and I walked them outside to meet their parents maybe a half hour later.”
Chaser rests his hand on my back.
“I know it was lies Davey planted.” I reach over and pat Alvin’s leg. “But thank you.”
The guys settle down to play an acoustic song I haven’t heard before. Chaser sings, and, as I always suspected, his voice is the perfect combination of rich and raspy. This performance is different from any other one. I’ve seen glimpses of this Chaser on stage before. He plays the way he makes love. As if every word and note comes from his deep, beautiful, complex soul.
I’m so completely caught up, no—mesmerized, it feels like my world spins away when they stop playing.
“Uh-oh. That bad?” Alvin says.
“No, no! It’s perfect. Beautiful. I thought you didn’t like ballads?”
Chaser shrugs. “It’s something different we’ve been playing around with.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to record it for the new album?”
Alvin shakes his head. “It’s too far from our usual sound. Jacob doesn’t like it.”
“Doesn’t like the sound or doesn’t like Chaser singing?”
“Probably both.” Alvin laughs.
I move closer to Chaser, leaning against him and running my fingers down his arm. “How come you don’t play for me like this?”
“Didn’t think you’d want me to,” he rasps.
“You know I love your sexy voice.”
Alvin clears his throat, reminding us he’s still in the room.
I nod to Chaser’s guitar. “That’s not what you were working on upstairs, though, is it?”