Hooked by Love (Bellevue Bullies 3)

I have to write.

Sitting down, even though I really need to shower, I reach for my guitar leaning against my desk. Glancing at the bed, I see that Mekena isn’t there. I wonder where she is and why I’m just now noticing she isn’t here. I am thinking entirely too hard about Jace, and I wish that made me stop.

It doesn’t, though.

Not even kind of.

He’s playing on repeat. Every touch, every word he spoke. The way he looked into my eyes and told me I was gorgeous. Everything. I can’t shake it, and why should I? I feel good. Great, even.

Shrugging my shoulders, I lift my guitar before I cross my legs and lay it across my lap. The words are practically begging to leave my body. Ready to pour out of me, so I quickly reach for my notebook and pen. The melody is there; I feel it. Soon I throw the pen back down and start strumming a soft little tune. It’s nothing I’ve ever played before, and it’s utterly beautiful. At least, I think so.

Pausing, I switch my computer on before turning on my audio recorder. Hitting record, I play the tune again, humming ever so lightly to the strings I play. Closing my eyes, I replay the tune over and over again, until finally, the words just fall from my lips.

I can feel him.

Still feel him.

All over me.

Inside of me.

A feeling.

Just a feeling.

Or is it more.

’Cause I can’t shake.

What I’m feeling.

These thoughts.

These feelings.

What am I supposed to do?

I don’t know.

But I’m obsessed with you.

Oh. Wow. I love that.

Hitting stop, I replay it, writing down everything I sang, and holy crap, I love it. I’m fucking awesome. Hitting play again, I listen while a wide grin spreads across my lips. I’ve never felt so free in my life. That’s what writing does to me. It takes me to a whole other universe, one where I am awesome and my lyrics, my melodies change lives. Or at least, my life. Moving my fingers down the strings, I start the next verse, and without realizing it, it’s three hours later and I have a full song.

A song about Jace.

The planes of his body, the way he makes me feel, and the fact I am totally and utterly obsessed with everything about him. I can still recall the dip between his pecs, and the way his bottom left ab is more prominent than his right. The way his arms basically wrapped around me like a python when he held me, and how his lips, even with the beer on them, felt like every single Ed Sheeran song I know and love.

Looking down at the song I haven’t named yet, all I see is Jace.

What does this mean? And how did this happen? How did I meet someone who captivates me to the point of inspiration? And what do I do with this? I have no clue, but before I can dwell on it much longer, the door flings open and Mekena is looking at me.

“Well, I guess it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you got laid last night, considering you’re wearing Jace Sinclair’s hoodie.”

Looking down at the bright teal hoodie, I smile. It still smells like him. I don’t know the cologne, but I want to bathe in it, it smells so freaking good. The hoodie is huge and warm, kind of like Jace’s arms. Realizing that Mekena is waiting for an answer, I look up and shrug, a grin curving my lips.

“Yeah, I have nothing for ya.” I give her a wink and she laughs.