Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Elle

Listen to Hello

by Lionel Richie

I stared blankly at the tv as the Real Housewives of New York played out their drama across town. I wondered if they’d ever visited Red. Waiting on them would be super cool, and maybe I’d get some time on camera.

God knows, I wasn’t getting any other opportunities.

I hated the depression that threatened to roll over me in dark waves. I know I was lucky to have a steady job and live in the greatest city in the world. I had an awesome boyfriend, real friends, and a healthy body and mind. But losing the role I was so excited about over an outside influence sucked. Everything had been shut down from the writer’s strike, and I honestly couldn’t seem to bounce back.

Coop came in looking fresh and vital, as always. His t-shirt stretched across massive carved muscle. His hair was damp from the shower, and lay in messy curls over his forehead. Light brown eyes framed with lush lashes stared at me sprawled on the sectional under a ratty blanket, holding a glass of wine. It had been those same eyes that had pulled me in when we first met. He met my gaze directly, and the immediate spark of interest and appreciation got me hooked. Coop was a contradiction in many ways, which kept me off balance. He struck people as an ordinary gym rat; a hot, confident man like Max, but underneath, Coop held a poet’s soul. When he looked through the lens of a camera, he was an artist; determined to capture the essence of his subject. That was the part I fell in love with and what held me hostage.

He frowned and motioned toward the screen. “Really, Elle? You’ve seen this episode before. What are you doing?”

“Taking a break. I don’t have a shift today.”

“Why don’t you go for a run?”

I wrinkled my nose. “It’s too hot. Plus, I hate running.”

“We can go the gym then and lift. You need some endorphins.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. Coop was one of those fanatics about energy—he drank protein shakes, worked out nonstop, and believed thinking positive could pretty much change anything. I loved that about him but he could be a pain in the ass. He was always trying to fix me, make me better, but if he spent the night getting trashed and ate a whole pizza, he just laughed it off. If I did it, I heard about it for weeks. He forgave himself easy but held me to higher standards.

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

He blew out an annoyed breath and sat next to me, rubbing my feet. “Did you talk to Noah about the song? You going over his place later?”

I shook my head. “I told him no. Don’t want to do music.”

“Why?”

I shrugged, wishing he’d go so I could finish the episode. I needed a break from positivity and mindset. I needed alcohol and Bravo and Landon, who’d stroke my hair and get trashed with me without endless questions. “Because I’d rather act. That’s my true calling.”

“Elle, Adam had to compromise, too, but it’s for the bigger picture. I know you’re upset but the role is gone. No one’s hiring now and maybe not for a while. You gonna huddle up here for the next year whining about how things aren’t fair?”

I glared at him and yanked my feet away. “Can I have one lousy afternoon to feel bad, Coop?”

“No, it’s a waste of time. Go see Noah and get something going. Sing with Adam and get some exposure. Noah went out on a limb for you.”

I know. I’d been feeling bad about it. Noah had composed music to emphasize the strengths of my voice, and Adam had the perfect lyrics to pair it to. I loved singing, but had been determined not to rely on my voice to get noticed. I wanted to act, it burned in my soul ever since that first high school play of Into the Woods. I got the Little Red Riding Hood role because of my voice, but it was the character portrayal that hooked me. A way to get outside of myself and jump into another person was a heady experience. I pursued my passion/hobby ever since, taking professional lessons, studying drama, and relentlessly trying out for any type of role available. I’d felt as if I was hovering around breaking out for a long time, but now it was all gone. At least, for a while.

In my heart, I knew Coop was right. I had to pursue this other option. It would give me a focus and may blast me out of my depression. Plus, Noah had been so sweet and understanding. When we were working on music together, I had a blast. He was patient and listened to my suggestions, when most of the guys would’ve pushed their own opinion. We’d gotten closer over the past year. He was the only one who engaged in conversations that held deep levels, and I loved discussing literature and books and trivia with him. I was a closet nerd, too, so we got along well.

I owed Noah a try.

I blew out a breath and shot Coop a look. “Fine. Can I finish my wine first and then I’ll text him?”

He grinned and grasped my legs, dragging me close. “How about we find another way to get you some endorphins?”

I laughed, my irritation gone. Coop was always able to change my mood and though sometimes I wondered if we were truly suited for one another long term, it was easy to push away the doubts and concentrate on the moment. “Want to go to the bathroom?” I teased innocently. Ever since that event, the group had been ruthless, and Coop knew I got embarrassed. Still, it had been hot having sex in a public place. I was kind of craving to try it again.

“Can’t even wait that long,” he murmured, tugging down my jeans, his mouth nibbling on the sensitive curve of my neck. It didn’t take me long to get in the mood.Soon, he was thrusting inside me, his teeth tugging at my nipples, his fingers digging into my hips as he fucked me hard, just the way I liked it. I imagined being in front of a crowd on display, their greedy gazes watching us, appraising my naked body and studying my face as I neared orgasm. It had been a fantasy of mine for a long time but I’d never admit it. Most people wanted to be a voyeur. I wanted to be the show.

I threw back my head and reached for release, and with a grunt, Coop slammed into me one last time and rubbed my aching clit.

I went over, toes curling as the orgasm crashed through me, blasting any worried thoughts out of my brain. I collapsed on the couch, panting, feeling more relaxed.

“Better?” he murmured, stroking my back. Coop was sweet after sex and liked to cuddle.

I pressed a kiss to his rough jaw and hugged him. “Yes. Thanks.”

He laughed. “Any time. That’s what I’m here for.” After a few more minutes, he rolled over and buttoned his jeans up. “Gotta do some stuff for the Red shoot. You ready for it?”

“Of course. I think it’ll be great for all of our portfolios. Imagine us on a billboard!”

“Yeah, they’re going after that sexy, young crowd vibe. I have some great ideas.”

I smiled at him. “You’ll be great. You’re so talented, Coop.”

“So are you. Now get your pretty ass to Noah’s house.”

I grumbled, but obeyed. Coop was right. I needed to do something instead of lying around moping.

I texted Noah, who said to come right over. It didn’t take long to get to his place. He had a one-bedroom loft style apartment and had set up his small living area as a music studio. Keyboards, speakers, and two laptops were spread out with a sectional couch in shag orange print. Endless shelves of books were squeezed into all of the remaining space. Noah never cooked, so it always smelled like Uber Eats with various fast food. I stepped inside and caught the scent of McDonalds today, which made me crave a burger immediately.

“Elle, I’m glad you decided to do this. I’m telling you, it’s gonna be a game changer for you.”

His apartment was familiar and comfortable; I’d been there many times with him one on one to help him cut music. “Thanks for pushing me. I know I have to do something since I lost my gig.”

His gray eyes flickered with empathy. “I know this isn’t what you want, but sometimes, we get what we need instead.”

His words didn’t hold the forced positivity Coop always gave, but more of a tight hug of comfort; a reminder it would be okay even if it was hard. Noah always seemed to get my mood and know exactly what I needed to hear. “Thanks. Is Daisy coming over?”

He shook his head and walked to the keyboard, fiddling with his laptop. “No, she’s working. Want something to drink before we start?”

I shook my head. The wine had given me enough easy warmth to loosen my muscles but I didn’t want anymore. “I’m good.”

“Let me show you what I want to do. I already okayed this with Adam so I want to cut a demo of you doing your part.”

“What about Adam’s portion?”

“I’m going to sing it.”

I lifted my brow. I rarely heard Noah sing. His speaking voice was amazing, deep and sexy, with undertones of gravel that sounded like sex. But I had no idea if. He could even hold a tune. “Cool.”

I sat down and we went through the song. It was a moody ballad that built up to a rock octave. I was immediately intrigued because it took some skill to sing: I needed to start whisper soft and build up the power, matching to my partner’s. The lyrics were about a man loving someone from afar who belonged to someone else. Depending on how I approached, it could either be filled with pain and regret; or a haunting bittersweet memory.

We ran through pieces of the song several times to get a feel for it. “Let’s try it straight through,” Noah said.

I started from the top, playing with my voice and trying to emit the emotions needed for the lyrics to pop. Noah tapped his fingers, his face deep in thought.

“How does Adam see the song playing out?” I asked.

Noah’s gaze crashed with mine. I was struck again by his looks. With his buzzed cut and gorgeous eyes, it was his face that was arresting, the slope of angles and lines and full lips that made a woman wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him. He had none of Max’s seductiveness, or Coops animal maleness. With Noah, a woman would need to peel off layer by layer and still not be sure what was left to uncover. He spoke through his music, like Adam, but instead of words it was notes and melodies and sound.

My body softened, and I leaned in, catching his clean soapy scent. I shook my head, feeling a bit tipsy. Probably too much wine.

“It’s not about anger or regret,” he said slowly. His voice wrapped around me like wispy streamers of fog. “It’s about longing.”

I caught my breath.

“Can you imagine being around someone you love but can never tell? Having to trap your feelings insidebut tortured by his presence? Wanting him so bad but knowing it’s impossible?”

Those haunting eyes pierced through mine and seemed to see things I’d never acknowledged. Secret places and yearnings for things I refused to admit. Didn’t everyone have a person, or dream, or thing, that kept them awake at night, wondering how to get or achieve it?

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Sing it like that, Elle. Sing it for all of us.”

I closed my eyes, moved by the statement, and when I opened them, I sang the song. He joined me in the verse, taking me by surprise at first with the power of his voice, but I kept singing and felt like I was reaching into parts of me that had remained dormant. Finally, we fell silent, the lingering notes falling around us in the air like a memory.

My heart was beating like crazy and my palms were sweaty. I felt like something had happened but I couldn’t explain what it was. Something that changed things.

“That was perfect,” Noah said. He leaned over and brushed his hand over mine. “You were perfect.”

Our gazes locked. We stared at each other in silence for a while, my foggy brain desperately trying to figure out what the hell had happened.

He drew his hand back and cleared his throat.

The bubble burst and then it was just Noah again.

I had definitely drunk too much wine.