Write or Wrong (Common Threads #9)

Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ECHO

ASA

One week after their night-time motorcycle ride and they hadn’t kissed again.

He’d had plenty of chances. More than he could count. Opportunity wasn’t the problem. The problem was the boundaries. Specifically the one where he said that if one of them had a problem with it, they would tell the other.

He had a problem with it.

And he didn’t want to tell her.

Which he knew didn’t make sense. It had been his idea after all. He was more frustrated with himself than anything. He’d spent the week, not avoiding her, but not really not avoiding her.

They still had breakfast on the terrace in the mornings and played music together most nights of the week. But he’d successfully dodged any more heartfelt conversations and lingering looks.

Which really just made him feel awful .

He was all twisted up inside and kept waking up in a cold sweat, worried she’d gone back to New York before he’d had a chance to…

To what?

That was where his mind stopped and he’d start the spiral at the top again. It was disorienting, like getting off a carnival ride right before it got fun.

Kissing the most beautiful woman in the world with zero obligation or strings sounded like a literal dream come true.

So what the hell was his problem?

Did he want the strings?

He froze and his vision lost focus as that final question echoed in his mind.

Did he want the strings?

“What’s wrong?”

He lifted his eyes to Zara sitting across from him on the terrace. The early morning sun lighting up her bronze skin exposed by her pale blue tank top and black sleep shorts. Her hair down and tangled and everywhere.

“Is it bad?” she asked, her amber gold eyes wide and worried.

“Huh?” he asked, sounding like the idiot he was.

“The omelet.” She nodded at his plate. “Is it that bad?”

He glanced down, trying to reorient himself in time and space. “No. What? No, the omelet is great.” He took a huge bite of the French omelet she’d made that morning.

She sat back, her dark eyebrows knit into a frown. “Then why did you look like you’d just swallowed a pinecone.”

He cracked a smile. “I was just thinking about something.” He cut into the omelet and raised another bite to his lips. “What have you got going on today?” he asked.

She cradled her coffee cup in both hands and gazed towards the city horizon. A soft hum came from deep in her chest and she clicked her nails on the ceramic mug. “I’m working on something.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” he asked.

Her eyes came back to him and he sensed her hesitation. Something soft settled in his bones as he realized he knew her. Knew her expressions and tone and intention. He only had that with a handful of people in his life. Some of them were due to survival instinct—being able to anticipate a mood in someone could make or break a day.

Learning Zara had happened much the same way he’d returned to writing music—reluctantly at first, unsure and untrusting; followed by gentle steps that eventually led to a place that felt familiar and golden.

Both ways left him feeling thankful and undeserving.

His mind circled back around to wondering if he wanted the strings. And why he wasn’t kissing her breathless at every opportunity.

When he considered what it would mean to pursue her, to admit his feelings and everything that came with it, he paused.

Because she was the kind of woman who deserved full consideration.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what they had was limited. They existed in a bubble of peace and uneventfulness. It was the elephant in the room they never talked about and always talked around.

What they were doing wasn’t permanent. Eventually she would go back to the tours and the promos and the fully booked schedule.

Could he live in her world? Could he learn to handle his media induced anxiety? Could he suspend every single one of his insecurities and fears? For her? For them? For what could be?

Those were the things he needed to figure out before he’d risk both their hearts.

And none of that included all the things she might be feeling or trying to figure out. Because she also hadn’t leaned in for another kiss.

They were in a holding pattern of sorts. Circling around each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

“I do,” she said, answering his question. “But not right now.”

He nodded a small smile twitching at his lips.

“What are you doing today?” she asked.

“Work. And then I meet Steiny after that. Probably be home late.” He reached for his coffee and noticed a slight shift in her expression.

“What do you guys do?” she asked.

“Climb.” His eyebrows dipped. “I guess I thought you knew that.”

She shook her head once and averted her gaze. “Nope.”

Were her feelings were hurt? That surprised him. But it probably shouldn’t. If he thought she was out hanging with other people and having fun and he was being kept out of it that would feel shitty.

“I would have invited you a long time ago but it’s really public. And Steinhoff doesn’t know about you being here, so that would be a whole thing. Not sure he’d pass Cas’s background check,” he ended with a chuckle.

Her gaze sharpened on him. “He doesn’t know I’m here?” she repeated like she wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.

He shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone. Why would I put you at risk like that?”

Her lips parted and her brow furrowed as if she wanted to say something but she had no idea where to begin. “No one?”

He rolled his lips inward and shook his head. Not even his dad, even though he was certain his dad had no idea who Zara Lorna even was.

His phone beeped and he checked the time. “I have to get going.” He stood and started gathering their plates. “I’ll help you with the dishes first.”

They went back inside, downstairs to the kitchen.

She rinsed and he loaded the dishwasher. When they were finished, he turned to her and took in a long look, knowing he was going to miss her all day. It was an odd sensation. A few months ago he wouldn’t have thought that his day needed to include absorbing as much of her joyful energy as possible. But now he didn’t know how he would ever go without it.

“Have fun today,” he said.

“You too.”

The small smile she gave him said so much. Her belief in him was all he needed in life. It made him feel like he could do anything.

He caught her face with a hand and brushed his thumb over the apple of her cheek. Her lips parted and she gazed up at him with those amber gold eyes he got lost in more than once a day. His gaze drifted to her mouth and he felt her body lean toward him.

He dipped close to her face and captured her upper lip in between both of his, tender and warm, he lingered there for a beat. When he lifted his mouth she was still leaning into his touch, eyes closed, lips patiently waiting for more.

How he wanted to give her more.

Instead, he folded her into a hug and pressed his mouth to her temple. “I’ll see you later,” he said, voice rough. He released her and didn’t dare look back as he headed downstairs. He was seconds away from falling at her feet and pledging his heart and fealty to her in any way she would take him.

But that would be insane.

Or would it?

Because when he thought about it again later that day as he was messing around with the song they had started that night in LA in the middle of a thunderstorm, he couldn’t imagine going back to a life that didn’t involve Zara in an essential way.

ZARA

Her day had been mostly uneventful. She wrote and wrote and wrote. She didn’t finish any songs but had several pieces that seemed to just pour out of her. It wouldn’t take much to turn them into fully formed songs. She had more than enough for an album. Several in fact.

Writing had always come easy for her. None of it should have been a surprise. But it felt different somehow.

More honest.

Urgent.

Like if she didn’t get it out it might consume her.

And she knew, without fully acknowledging it, that it was whatever was happening between her and Asa that was the fuel for all of her productive creativity.

Because whatever was happening between them was two things at once. It was both powerful and intentional. Like both of their hearts were taking their time with every next step. No rushing. It wasn’t hesitation so much as careful consideration.

And she wasn’t going to stop it.

Maybe she liked the ache of the unknown. Maybe she took too much pleasure in the mystery of it all.

That small kiss that morning had left her twisted and needy and happy . Because it had felt like one of the most honest kisses of her life. No expectation and no demand.

Just his lips on hers.

Twice he’d kissed her. The first kiss had been the best kiss of her life, topped only by the second. Her lips had tingled all day.

And she used that tingle to fuel her writing. She was getting to a point where she needed to show it to someone. Like her producer best friend. Or the man who’d been starring in all of her dreams lately.

She heard the garage door open later that night and took her customary seat on the stairs in the bend outside his bedroom. Where she waited for his gentle voice to fill her head and heart with its comforting sound.

The guitar started and stopped. That wasn’t unusual. It often took a few false starts to get going.

The bedroom door opened and she froze.

Shit.

He was going to catch her!

Maybe not. Maybe he needed to use the bathroom or something. As long as she didn’t make a sound, he wouldn’t have a reason to check the stairs.

She held her breath and waited.

“Zara.”

It wasn’t a question.

She leaned forward and peeked around the corner.

Asa stood in the doorway of his bedroom, a small smirk on his lips. He twitched two fingers, motioning her to join him.

Heat crawled up her neck and she crept the rest of the way down the stairs, stopping at the bottom. She twisted her fingers together in front of her. “I…” How was she supposed to tell him that she wasn’t trying to be creepy; she just couldn’t sleep.

“Get in here,” he said, jerking his head toward the interior of his room.

Her heart gave a little surprised hiccup and she pushed onto her toes with a bounce. “Really?”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his crooked smile. “Stop being cute and get in here before I change my mind.”

She made a noise that was something between a squeak and a squeal and hurried into his room. And froze.

He closed the door behind them and came around to her side.

The box of notebooks that he’d shown her on moving day sat on his bed with various pages opened and scattered on the comforter.

This wasn’t just a casual invitation to mess with music together. This was so much bigger. He was inviting her in .

That little hiccup her heart did sometimes turned into a staccato rhythm. Her throat tightened as she tried to swallow down the huge lump of emotion suddenly clogging it. She turned toward him and tried to keep her voice as even as possible. “Are you sure about this?”

His lids dropped slowly over his dark eyes as his gaze went from each of her eyes to her mouth and back again. No hint of hesitation or anxiety. His hands hung loose at his sides and his mouth tugged up on the corners. “Yeah.”

It was a word. Just one. But coming from Asa—a man who thought things through, considered multiple viewpoints and endings—it was all she needed.