Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Noah

Listen to Break into my Heart

by Daughtry

I knew love at first sight was real, because it had happened to me.

What no one tells you is how excruciating it can be, especially when you are Fated to never be together. But I made the bargain and learned to live with it. As long as I stuck to the rules, I wouldn’t hurt anyone, and could have a relatively happy life. It was a motto I reminded myself on a daily basis, but right now, I was having some issues.

I closed my eyes and blew out a breath. Tried to chase the music and get lost. But the image of Elle burned into my brain and played in an endless, infinite loop.

Cursing, I stood up, threw off my headphones, and began to pace the small room. Back and forth, I fell into an unconscious rhythm I liked to repeat when I was stuck; when the music stopped playing. Usually movement helped lure inspiration back, but minutes ticked by and I was no closer to finishing the song I’d started weeks ago.

Of course, I knew the real problem. My elusive, exquisite Muse had gotten too close. I worked best when my Muse was at a distance and I needed to chase her. Like that magic moment of waking up after a long nap, caught between sleep and consciousness. It was then I was open enough to allow inspiration to wash over me. It was then I sought my keyboard and began to compose and mix music. It was then I had no fear, because I could blame my emotions on a dream.

But not today. Today, Elle had sat beside me and gifted me with her voice. She’d sung, smiled, and given me her complete focus. And in the moment that my real emotions slipped and she’d glimpsed the truth, she hadn’t jerked back in disgust or horror.

No, she’d stared right back with a flare of interest in her stunning brown-gold eyes. Her olive skin was warm and smooth under my hand. The faint scent of her perfume still tinged my nostrils; a mix of musky floral that made my head swim. I’d waited for her to break the sudden awareness and connection, but I’d been the one to yank us back to reality. Some part of me realized I was on the edge and the wrong move could ruin our relationship forever.

I’d never risk it. Elle was too important in my life. Her friendship was a bright light; a ray of hope; my inspiration every morning.

Elle was my Muse and had been since the moment we met.

Giving up on work, I trudged to the kitchen and opened a beer. I needed to get my head screwed on right, because I had an event tonight and needed to be in the zone. I loved being a DJ. I had a flexible schedule and room for creativity, and though being in front of a huge crowd went against my usual reserved nature, I came alive in public. Their energy fed mine, and nailing the correct version or mix of a song for the exact mood in a club was a thrill.

But I didn’t see myself doing this for the next decade. Like Adam, I dreamed of more. Of being able to compose original music for the masses, whether it be radio, movies, tv, or theater. I wasn’t in a rush to get there like my friends. All of us seemed to be going through a quarter life crisis, frustrated not to be further along in our goals. Even Max showed signs of worry, though most would never catch it. Probably another reason he was so hot to move in with Landon. I guess it was a way he could feel like he was moving forward.

I knew music would always be a part of my life—it had been the only thing that made sense to me. I had a talent for reading music at a young age. Mom had gotten me piano lessons and it was like continuing something I’d known in a previous life. Not sure if I believed in reincarnation but it was weird how easy it was to play instruments and understand the fine balance of structure and freedom in music. I’d been luckier than Adam—my parents were supportive and encouraged me to go big or go home. When I moved to New York from my tiny town in Maine where nothing really happened except a rare sighting of Stephen King, I wasn’t running from something as much as running to something. And my fear of failure never kept me up at night. I just worked my ass off with no time table and it seemed to all pan out.

Except for my relationships. Hell, I hadn’t been focused on love until I was introduced to Elle, and realized she was my soul-mate. Of course, it was too late from the start. She was involved with Coop. I hated that he got drunk and sloppy and kissed other women. I hated that he seemed to brush off her talents and focus on her looks. I hated he didn’t see what I saw, took her for granted, and acted like a juvenile idiot too many times.

But he didn’t sleep around like Max, and he encouraged Elle to get out there instead of staying home to mope over the strike. And he loved photography the way I loved music, so he was able to connect with that part of Elle I felt was underserved. Yes, she was great in front of the camera and I had no doubt she’d be an actress one day. But it was her voice that haunted me; her voice that connected to my heart and soul; her heart that I composed all my music for.

I imagined what it would be like if Elle was mine. How we’d connect physically, emotionally, and mentally. I spun up images of us entwined together in the bed, sitting up naked and creating music together, caught up in our perfect world. I’d be her supporter, her confidante, her lover. I’d be anything she wanted or needed me to be.

Hell, I was as fucked up as Coop and Max. I loved a woman who’d never be mine. And I was dating a woman who saw the best in me, who was sweet and funny and loyal. A woman who could be my future, if only I could love her in the passionate, hungry, overwhelming way I silently loved Elle.

The other part of me wondered if it really mattered. I’d read an article that said people made a decision on who to love. That there were people who were bad for you and no matter how you loved them, you were better off with someone else. Elle was my friend, and would never see me as boyfriend material. She burned a bit brighter than most and at my heart, I was a slow burn. But if she could be in my life, and I could help her with music, it would be enough.

I’d only been dating Daisy for about six months and we kept growing stronger. She grounded me and never pushed for more than I could give. There was an ease to us I liked, and low drama. I’d die if I ever dated Landon—the woman was like a heroine starring in her own television series, courting drama at every turn. Daisy’s heart was pure in a way I hadn’t found in a woman before—she was happiest when she was helping others, yet knew how to have fun. Everyone adored her, including me. And though we hadn’t declared our love for each other, maybe I could get there. Because in a way, I already loved Daisy and who she was, and who we could be together. It was just a different type of love.

Was one really better than the other? Or was it a simple decision? A choice?

I’d never cheat on Daisy, even with Elle. At least, physically. Being an emotional cheater was hard enough to accept, but I wasn’t perfect. I was trying. And with time, everything could change.

I finished my beer, rinsed the bottle, and recycled it.

There was a quick knock on the door. I glanced at my watch, surprised I’d lost so much time with my thoughts, and let her in.

“Hey, sweet buns. What’s cooking tonight?”

I groaned at her awful, cheesy lines, but her cheeky grin and sweet kiss made me laugh. “Chipotle?” I suggested.

“Oh, then I’d call you my hot tamale,” she said with an exaggerated wink.

I shook my head. “It keeps getting worse.”

“I have no brain cells left for intelligent banter.” She dropped her purse and stretched her neck. Her scrubs were dirty and her pony tail unkempt, but Daisy didn’t care about her appearance. It was another thing I adored—she didn’t try to make a living turning herself into someone the world would like. “My patients were tough today. It was a full moon.”

I rubbed her shoulders and she sighed, leaning against me. Her delicate build hid a strength easily missed. She was able to lift grown men and flip them on a hospital bed. She also had two brothers who’d taught her wrestling moves. She demonstrated them when I pissed her off one night, and I’d found myself lying flat on my back on the floor, while she stood over me, glaring. “Hmm, should we spring for cupcakes? That always puts you in a better mood.”

“Red velvet?”

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sure. Goes well with tacos. Hey, are you clear to go with us to AC for Landon’s birthday?”

“Yep, I got someone to cover my shift, but it means working this weekend. So, no going out for me, I’m on twenty-four-hour call.”

“It’ll be worth it, especially when we win big at the casino.”

She grinned and rubbed her hands together. “My palms have been feeling itchy. It’s a sign.” I watched as she slid the band out of her hair and shook out the honey strands. “Wanna take a shower with me?”

My body responded immediately but I was thrown off by the flash of guilt. I hadn’t done anything, but thinking about Elle and being with her this afternoon had brought up some doubts. It didn’t feel right to have sex with Daisy right now. Not until she was the only woman I was thinking about.

“Sorry, I have to run out. I’ll grab the food and then we’ll have a nice night in. Okay?”

“Okay. Oh, get extra sauce on mine.”

“Always.”

She blew me a kiss and disappeared into the bathroom. Lines were getting blurred. Daisy had been here almost all week and though I didn’t intend to move in with her any time soon, I saw the possibilities ahead. She gave me my space and never asked probing questions. She was great company and a great lover. On paper, Daisy was perfect.

I imagined her trim, lithe figure naked, the soap bubbles foaming on her pale skin. Imagined her gaze locked on mine as I leaned in and kissed her, hauling her up and pressing her back against the tiled shower wall as I slipped between her thighs and found my release in her sweet little body.

I almost turned around and joined her, the image vividly stamped into my brain, making my dick hard.

Until I heard Elle’s voice screaming my name in pleasure, in demand, over and over, and over….

I walked out instead.