Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Fuck. Yet again, I've fucked up with her, said all the wrong things, and pushed her away. But for once…I think I may understand why she's so goddamn angry. And for once, I actually have hope that I can fix this.
Two hours later, when she steps out of the recording booth and sees me sitting beside her producer, Brogan, her eyes immediately narrow on me, and distrust floats through her gaze.
"What are you still doing here?" she asks, crossing her arms as her steps slow.
"Listening to you work." I tip my head back, grinning at her. "You sound like a fucking angel, baby."
She eyes me for a long moment before shifting her gaze to Brogan as if seeking confirmation.
"That last one was gold," he grunts, not even looking up from the console. "You killed it."
Relief floats through her expression, her tense stance relaxing slightly. And then she glances at me again. "Can I speak to you privately, please?"
I jerk my chin in a nod, holding my fist out for Brogan to bump as I climb to my feet. "Thanks for letting me invade your space, man. Appreciate it."
"No problem."
"I'll be back," Nadia murmurs to him.
"Don't bother. You're done for the day. I need to lay these tracks and then get the band back in here to rerecord the last one. What they laid isn't going to work with those vocals."
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. "Should I redo it?"
"Fuck no," we both say at the same time.
Her eyes narrow on us. "Can I at least hear it?"
Brogan immediately shakes his head, his long black hair floating around his ears. "Trust me, Nadia," he says. "Just let me get the band back in here to rerecord. Your vocals are perfect. Go home for the day."
"Listen to the man, butterfly. He knows what he's saying." I wrap my arm around her waist, gently guiding her toward the door. She digs her heels in for a long moment before she finally huffs and allows me to shuffle her out into the foyer.
The door to the mixing booth barely closes behind us before she pulls out of my arms, spinning to face me with her lip caught between her teeth. "Why wouldn't he let me hear it?"
"What were you thinking about in there?" I ask instead of answering.
Her gaze shifts from mine. "The music."
"Liar." The emotion in her voice made it pretty fucking obvious she wasn't just singing lines. She meant every word. And Emelia was right. Every goddamn word was about me. "How long have you been singing about me, butterfly?"
"I don't."
"Liar."
Her dark gaze practically cuts through me. "I guess that makes two of us then, doesn't it?"
"I never lied to you. Every damn word I ever said to you was the truth, as much as you don't want to believe it." I cup her cheek. "It's still true, as much as you don't want to believe that, either. I fucked up and hurt you. I've been hurting you for a long damn time, but I never lied to you, Nadia."
Tears well in her eyes as she pulls away. "Can we please not do this? I just want to go home. Zoya is waiting for me."
"I'll let you go home. But I want something first."
"What now?" she groans like I'm pissing her off.
"I want you to have dinner with me before the team leaves for New York on Wednesday." Our last game before our Bye Week is on Thursday. I fully intend to spend the entire damn week reminding her that she's still in love with me.
"I'm not fake dating you to save your career, Teo," she growls, rolling her eyes at me.
"Fuck my career, Nadia. I don't give a damn about it," I mutter, tugging her into my arms. "They can have the goddamn thing for all I care. I want you the same way I did when we were kids."
I'm mad as hell that I ever made her feel like I chose the sport over her. Christ, I never meant for that to happen. I never meant for her to feel like her choices weren't good enough. I just really didn't want to be the thing holding her back in life. I didn't want to be the reason she sacrificed a single damn thing. I wanted the world for her because it's what she deserved. Instead, I fucked it all up. I made her feel like less.
By the time I'm done, she'll know that she's everything.
She eyes me doubtfully, the distrust obvious in her eyes.
"Please, butterfly," I plead quietly, pressing my forehead to hers. "Give me one chance to prove to you that it's supposed to be me and you. I know you feel the same way. It's in every damn song you've ever written."
For a long moment, she doesn't say anything. And then she sighs softly. "Fine. But if you break my heart again, I'll never speak to you again, Teo."