The Sound of Us

Chapter Five. “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers

CHAPTER FIVE

“Mr. Brightside” by the Killers

DANTE

I think I ’ ve just overdosed? Had those words seriously left my lips? What the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t do pickup lines or cutesy phrases. I didn’t hang around outside buildings hoping for the chance of another conversation. Hell, I was the man who didn’t have to chase after women. They came to me. Case in point: Madison Taylor.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” Madison trailed her finger along the box of lemon squares, her blue eyes calculating. “You left me unread.”

I’d met Madison during a summer law internship program sponsored by the State Bar. I’d applied for the program not just for the paid work experience, but because it was run by some of the top prosecutors from the Cook County State’s Attorney office, and I wanted to make those connections early to pave my way into the DA’s office after I finished law school. Two weeks before the end of the program, Madison found out about my band and showed up at our gig with only one thing on her mind. I’d been happy to oblige and had assumed she’d get the message when I didn’t respond to her texts. Clearly, I was wrong.

I forced a smile and moved the box away from Madison’s red lacquered nails. “I thought we both understood that it was just one night.”

I had a one-night rule because I wasn’t interested in relationships. I’d lost everyone I loved, and it had almost broken me. I couldn’t open myself to that kind of pain again.

“But it was such a good night.” She twirled a long strand of her blonde hair around her finger. “I didn’t get a chance to show you everything I could do.”

“I’m sure there are other guys on campus who will appreciate your talents.” I wasn’t usually so abrupt, but I was waiting for Skye to get off her shift, and after Quinn had chased her away with his comments about my extracurricular activities, I didn’t want her to see me with a woman who clearly had only one thing on her mind.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” Madison huffed and walked away with an exaggerated sway of her hips.

I knew exactly what I was missing, and it couldn’t compare to the connection I felt with Skye. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything for a woman that wasn’t purely physical, but Skye was the whole damn package.

I moved to a more secluded area and checked my station fan mail while I waited. Over the weekend, I’d received an unprecedented six requests to meet random girls for drinks—I usually averaged one or two fan requests a day—a few demo tracks from local indie bands, and a reminder from Noah that he was expecting me to do more volunteer work around the station.

Fuck.

I loved the station, and I didn’t want to see it close, especially for Noah’s sake, but I wasn’t about to get sucked into the tight-knit group of volunteers who helped the paid staff. Unlike me, they didn’t just show up for their programs and take off when they were done. They spent all their free time at the station, hanging out in the lounge, throwing impromptu parties, talking about their problems… They were a family, and I was never doing the family thing again.

Skye showed up around ten minutes later. She had a bag in one hand and a backpack that was so heavy she was hunched over, giving me a good view of the cleavage at the V of her shirt. Not that I was looking. But I was. She may have been an elite athlete but damn she had curves.

I moved into her path, but she was so focused on putting in her earphones and staring at her phone that she almost walked right into me.

“Sorry… I…” Her voice trailed off when she recognized me, and her forehead creased in a puzzled frown. “What are you still doing here?”

“Waiting for you.” I gestured to the athletics building, the white dome rising beyond the trees in the distance. “I thought you might be stressed about the tryout and I’m very good at being distracting.” I gestured to her backpack. “I’m also adept at carrying heavy things.”

She shook her head. “I can carry my own stuff. Besides, your hands are full of lemon squares.”

“I’ll eat them.” I took out a square and offered it to her. “These came highly recommended.”

“If I eat too close to any kind of intense activity, I throw up. It’s not a good look on me.”

I couldn’t imagine anything that wasn’t a good look on Skye, but I wasn’t about to let the lemon square go to waste. I took a bite, and tangy sweetness burst across my tongue, softened by the crumbly shortcake crust. I finished the first square in a few bites and reached into the box for another.

“Are you seriously using the threat of a sugar overdose to blackmail me into letting you carry my bag?” She gave me a sidelong glance as we walked along the path. “You’re twisted.”

“An accurate description.”

“You can carry this.” She handed me a lunch bag with a Superman decal on the front. “I’m only allowing it to save you from sugar poisoning.”

My fingers brushed against hers when I took the bag. The skin-to-skin contact was staggeringly powerful, and a buzz of awareness sizzled through my veins. “It seems you are a superhero after all,” I said, inspecting the worn image of Christopher Reeve mid-flight.

“You remember that, too?” she asked softly.

“That night is etched into my brain.” Aside from the fact that I processed information so quickly I didn’t need to take notes in class, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Skye and our kiss and our curious connection.

“The lunch box is an inside joke,” she explained. “My friend Isla found it at a thrift shop and gave it to me. I missed my sophomore year and the last few months of my freshman year after I was in a car accident. She said I was a superhero for making it back.” She moved in the direction of the fitness center, and I fell into step beside her.

“She’s a good friend,” I said. “But I do hope it’s a joke. There is no better Superman than Henry Cavill.”

“Are you kidding me? Christopher Reeve was the best. He was kind, humble, compassionate and noble with pure farm boy wholesomeness and a subtle sense of humor. What else could you ask for in a superhero?”

“Grit,” I said. “Steel. Passion. Determination. The ability to dole out hard justice when necessary. Raw physicality…”

Raw physicality. Right there beside me. It was hard to concentrate on the conversation when she was walking so close that I could feel the heat of her body and breathe in her scent—wildflowers and coffee and something sweet.

“Yawn to the cookie-cutter superhero ideal,” she said. “I like a nuanced hero. A person who is strong, confident, and brave but isn’t afraid to show their soft side. Although I will give you that Cavill looked better in his suit than Reeves.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her watching me. “The Man of Steel screamed and cried in anguish during intense action sequences and emotional scenes. What more do you want?”

“A fur bed in a palace of ice.”

My laughter took me by surprise. Except when I was with Noah, or trying to charm a woman into my bed, I rarely laughed, and I hadn’t laughed so loudly since Sasha died.

I heard a shout, the thunk of a ball. In the distance I saw a group of guys running down the sidewalk tossing a football back and forth, heedless of the people who were dashing to the side to get out of their way. Instinctively, I slid my hand around Skye’s waist and pulled her to the side. Fast. But not fast enough. The ball bounced off her shoulder and onto the grass.

“What the fuck!?” I yelled, more annoyed at my failure to protect Skye than anything else. I grabbed the ball and hurled it at the guy who had hit Skye, putting all my energy into the throw. “Get off the fucking path!”

“It’s okay, Dante.” Skye’s quiet voice penetrated the churn of blood in my ears. “The ball barely touched me.”

I took a deep shuddering breath and tried to find the self-control I had so quickly and inexplicably lost. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so close to releasing the anger that I kept tightly leashed. “I just… you didn’t need that right before your big tryout. What if you’d been injured?”

“Then I’d be on the phone right now booking a plane ticket back to Denver.”

That stopped me in my tracks. “Are you saying that if you don’t make the team, you’re leaving Havencrest?”

Skye shrugged. “I came here on a full-ride basketball scholarship to get a journalism degree, but I lost the money when I had to withdraw after the accident. The team is giving me another chance to try out, but my leg was so badly damaged it basically had to be rebuilt. I don’t think all the rehab and training in the world is going to get me back to the level I was at when they picked me, but I have to try.”

“It takes a lot of courage to come back,” I said. “Most people would just give up. You’re very brave.”

“I’m desperate,” she said with a sigh. “If I make the team, I’ll qualify for athletic scholarships, but without them, there’s no way I can stay. I’ve already talked to my financial aid advisor. She’s looking at other options for me, but I missed the deadlines for most other scholarships.”

“What about journalism internships? I just finished a summer law internship, and it paid—”

“You’re in law?”

“Finance,” I said. “But I plan to go to law school. The internship was at the State’s Attorney’s office, which is where I want to work.”

Skye frowned. “I wouldn’t have guessed law.”

“Because I’m not wearing a suit?”

“Because it’s pretty much the opposite of who you are.”

I suppressed a flinch. Music. Banter. Light “getting to know you” talk. I could do it all. But getting personal, going deep, trying to make me question my goal… that was off-limits for me.

“You don’t know who I am.” I knew my words had come out too harsh when Skye grimaced.

“No,” she said in a cool voice. “I don’t. I’m sorry if I pressed a nerve.” She turned and held out her hand.

It took me a few moments to realize we’d arrived at the athletic center and she wanted her lunch bag. I handed it over, mentally kicking myself for being such a dick. She didn’t need me dumping my issues on her when she was going into one of the most important tryouts of her life.

“Go kick some basketball ass.” Lost in a maelstrom of emotions, I didn’t know what else to say.

“Thanks.” Skye hesitated. “Do you—?”

“Dante!” Madison waved from a nearby picnic table on the grass and gestured to the curvy woman beside her. “Come on over. I’ve got someone for you to meet.”

My body jerked, and I shook off the haze that had clouded my mind. What the hell was I doing? I didn’t get involved. I didn’t connect. I didn’t waste time wondering how I could spend more time with someone I’d just met. I was a free agent, unencumbered by the burden of emotion-draining relationships. Skye deserved someone who could be there for her, someone who could protect her, and that sure as heck wasn’t me. I didn’t even have time for this kind of drama. Skye had her goal and I had mine.

“I’ll be right there,” I called out. I wasn’t about to break my rule for Madison, but her friend was cute, and I was up for a little flirting to chase away all the unsettling feelings. “I’m bringing you a treat and it isn’t me.” I held up the box of lemon squares and blew the girls a kiss.

I felt a prickle on the back of my neck and turned to see Skye watching me, her face devoid of any expression. When she turned away, I felt sick inside.

“Good luck, buttercup.”

I watched until she was through the doors. She didn’t even wave.