Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle 12)

“Well, he isn’t volunteering either. And I don’t blame him. Maybe I’m just overthinking it all.”

“How much longer are you in Seattle?”

“Another month. And then it’s back in the studio and to the rest of the grind.”

“You sound thrilled.”

I laugh and shrug. “I love it, too, you know? I love the lifestyle. But it’s exhausting.”

“Balance,” Leo says as if it should be the easiest thing in the world.

“I haven’t had anyone in my life that I was afraid to lose. Not for a long time,” I confess. “But I’m terrified now. Levi understands me. He reads me well. He’s a rock star at putting up with my moods.”

“Moods are what artists do best,” Leo says.

“He takes care of me, you know? Not financially or anything, because . . . duh. But he takes care of my soul. My heart. In ways I didn’t know I needed.”

“You’re in love with him.”

“So much it makes me lose my breath.”

“Good for you, my friend.” He smiles, but when I don’t smile in return, he sobers. “What is it?”

“I don’t come from love, Leo. What I knew my whole life was dark and mean and just . . . bad.”

“I understand. I come from all of that, as well.”

My gaze flies to his. “You do?”

“Oh, yeah. The foster system isn’t a walk in the park.”

I swallow hard and feel tears threaten. He might be one of the few people I’ve ever met who could possibly understand me.

“I’m afraid to love Levi because . . . what if I don’t know how?”

“Man.” He exhales loudly. “He fell in love with you because you showed him who you are. He loves you because of the way you love him in return, Starla. And, frankly, it might sound trite, but you have to talk to him. You have to confide in him about your fears because they’ll fester. Hell, Sam and I have been together since Jesus was born, and we still have our moments. Talk to him. And despite where you come from, you know how to love. Hell, a person doesn’t write a song like Wish and not know love.”

I grin, thinking about the song we’re working on. It’s the one from that night in the turret in Montana.

When we confessed our love.

“Now, enough of all of this crap about feelings. Let’s record a song.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re such a man.”

“Thank you for noticing.”

The next hour goes so much better. I’m able to hit the note in the second verse, and by the time we’ve recorded the song, I’m absolutely in love with it.

“This is damn good,” Leo says proudly. “It’s going to be a big hit for you. Feel free to record in my studio anytime.”

“Don’t make an offer like that unless you mean it, because I have a feeling I’ll be spending a lot more time in Seattle.”

“I do mean it. The next time I have all the guys here, you should come jam with us.”

“I’d like that. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And, Starla?”

“Yeah?”

“You deserve Levi and all the happiness he brings to you. You can have both the man and the job. You’ll figure it out.”

I nod and pat him on the shoulder. I don’t pull away when he tugs me in for a hug.

“Thanks. You’re right, we’ll figure it out.”

Once I’m in my little Jag and headed toward Seattle, I call Levi.

“What are you wearing?” I ask when he picks up.

“Way more than I’d like to be.”

“No, if you’re in public, you should be fully dressed. I don’t share.”

He chuckles in my ear. “What are you up to? How’s the recording going?”

“We’re done, and it was fabulous. I’ll play it for you when you get home. I’m headed there now. Should we do salads from Salty’s tonight?”

“I don’t want you to be home alone,” he says. “The guys had to be pulled off your detail for another investigation, and I don’t have anyone else on it yet.”

“Levi, I’m fine. I’m going right home, where I’ll lock the door and set the alarm. And you’ll be home in like two hours. Seriously, it’s okay.”

“Don’t forget to set the alarm.” His voice is hard. He’s in bossy-cop mode.

It’s kind of hot.

“Ten-four, good buddy.”

“You’re in a good mood.”

“I know, I had a good afternoon with Leo, the song is fantastic, and he gave me some sage advice.”

“What’s that?”

“To basically keep doing what I’m doing.”

“Well, okay then. I’m glad it went well, and I can’t wait to hear the song. I think I can get things wrapped up here in just a little bit, and then I’ll be there.”

“You don’t have to rush.”

“Yes. I do. Love you, babe. See you soon.”

“Love you back.”

I click off, and before the radio has a chance to come through the speakers, my phone rings.

It’s my assistant, Rachel.

“Holy shit, I haven’t talked to you in years.”