Our Song (5 page)

Chapter 7

“Hey, you’re finally here!” Natalie said as she stood outside the club wearing a short plum-colored dress that complemented her fair skin and made her gold eyes pop against her silky black hair.

The Pink Dragon was one of L.A.’s hottest nightclubs, but it was an A-listers-only sort of place, if you catch my drift. I was the only one who could actually get the three of us inside.

At least, I’d always
been
able to. If anyone caught wind of my sinking career, I imagined that it might not have been so easy anymore. That was why I needed to revive it before it completely drowned.

“Yeah, we made it. Nat, this is my friend, Skylar,” I told her.

“Hey.” Skylar gave her a small wave.

“Hi.” My assistant flashed my best friend a smile and then said, in a lowered voice. “You wouldn’t
believe
who’s here tonight.”

I guessed the first name that came to mind. “Bruno Mars.”

She shook her head.

“Is it Taylor Swift?” Skylar asked with raised brows.

Nat smiled. “Nope.”

“Selena Gomez?”

“Wrong again! Well, I mean, they
might
all be here, too, for all I know, but this is someone much more exciting than that.” Before she had a chance to tell us who it was, we were already approaching the security guard who was manning the front entrance.

“Hi, I’m Viola Pie—” I started to say, but he cut me off with a nod. “Go on in.”

I wasn’t sure how he recognized me when it must’ve looked like I was wearing the entire MAC makeup factory on my face. I wasn’t going to lie—Skylar and I had gone a little overboard when we were getting ready. We’d spent hours getting all dolled up for tonight. We’d both curled our hair, put on way too much mascara, and had tried on nearly all of the dresses in my closet, most of which were brand new, never been worn, with tags.

Fortunately, Skylar was about the same size as me, so she was able to squeeze into my clothes. I’d ended up going with a little black dress and a pair of hot pink stilettos, while she’d chosen to wear a red satin dress, which she paired with matching pumps and lipstick.

I didn’t care if I looked too dressed up. For the first time in a long time, I was able to look in the mirror and say that I looked like a happy, single girl.

I wasn’t sure if it was Skylar’s return or all of the revelations I’d had today, but I was actually starting to feel less gloomy than usual. Thinking about how much time I’d
wasted being miserable over my breakup with Jake was starting to piss me off.

Well, fuck that noise. It was my time to shine, damnit.

Once we were inside the club, Skylar squealed, “You know, I think this is the first time you and I have ever
legally
been to a club together!”

When we approached the bar, we ordered our drinks—a fuzzy navel for Skylar, a chocolate martini for me, and a beer for Natalie.

“Do you remember that time we got fake IDs to sneak into a club once?” I asked. “We did it all because we heard Justin Timberlake was going to be there that night, and then he wasn’t even there.”

“And my dad found out our plan and busted us.” Skylar laughed as we approached the bar, a wistful look in her eyes.

“What did he do?” Nat asked with raised brows.

“He told the security guard they’d let in some girls who were underage,” she explained. “Then he came and found us, while we were dancing with guys who we’d told we were twenty-one. It was probably
the
most embarrassing night of my life to date.”

I laughed at the memory. “What I wouldn’t give to be young again.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Natalie said with a smile as the bartender set our glasses down in front of us.

“You never
did
tell us who was here,” Skylar pointed out as she took a sip of her fuzzy navel.

“It’s Colton King,” Nat said in a low gossipy tone.

I nearly choked on my drink. Talk about crazy timing. Just as the words had escaped her mouth, the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes I’d ever seen landed on mine from across the room. Shit.

I quickly turned away from him, pressing my back against the bar to avoid looking at him. If I was facing him, I couldn’t trust myself to keep my eyes off of him; that hot bod of his drew my eyes to him like magnets. It was freaking ridiculous.

“Where?” Skylar’s eyes scanned the room. A lustful look filled her eyes when she spotted him. “He’s
so
cute.”

I think it was jealousy that overtook me then. But I didn’t even think twice about the possible repercussions of what I was saying before I blurted, “I slept with him.”

“What?” Skylar’s light brown eyes met mine in surprise. “How long ago was this?”

I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks. “Two nights ago.”

“Wow.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?” Natalie asked with wide eyes.

“I don’t make it a habit of kissing and telling,” I replied with a shrug.

“Was it
good
?” She sounded intrigued.

“Maybe, maybe not,” I replied with a shrug. “I wouldn’t actually know. I was too drunk to remember any of it.” Lowering my eyes, I took a quick gulp of my martini. “Can we talk about something else now, please?”

Nat shook her head. “No. No, don’t think you’re getting out of this one so easily, Missy! Not until you give us more deets. When you said you were going to be working together, I didn’t think you meant you would be doing
that
.”

“You’re working with him?” Skylar’s eyebrows rose with intrigue.

“Uh huh. We’re business partners.”

“Is
business
partners what they’re calling it now?” Nat asked, trying to conceal her grin.

“Business partners… sex partners,” she replied with a shrug. “Whatever works.”

Ugh.

“So, about those Yankees.” Yeah, that was my best attempt at changing the subject.

“Yeah, why don’t we switch topics, Vi? We can talk about the fact that
You Know Who
is making his way over here right now,” Nat said with an amused grin, which I totally wanted to smack off her face.

“He
is
?” Part of me wanted to turn around to confirm that she wasn’t just messing with me, but then I also didn’t want to give him that sort of satisfaction if he
was
making his way over to me. I wanted him to
think he meant nothing to me—like he was just as low as the worm in a bottle of tequila or the gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe or something.

As soon as those thoughts entered my mind, I felt a twinge of guilt. That was quite possibly the worst way to think about someone who’d agreed to help you save your career, but I didn’t care at the moment. All I could think about was the
fact that Colton King had put his you-know-what you-know-where. Ugh.

Skylar or Natalie hadn’t had the chance to answer me before I realized I could just
feel
him behind me. I wasn’t sure how I knew he was
there, exactly—I just did. It was as though I could just sense his presence.

I slowly turned around to find him looming over me. I hadn’t realized just how tall he was until now. I was wearing heels, and he still had quite a few inches on me.

His dark hair was slicked back with gel, and he wore a short-sleeved polo shirt that showed off his muscular arms.

God, he was so freaking cute. Would I ever be able to
not
have that thought when we were standing in the same room as each other?    

I turned my head to see Skylar and Natalie walking away to give us some space to talk. It sort of surprised me. I figured they’d want front row seats to this shit show.

“Yes?” I asked when he just continued to stare at me without saying anything.

Colton stared down at me. “No.”

“No?”

His lips curved into an amused smile. “Yes.”

I could feel my annoyance at him growing. “Is there something you want or are we just going to stand here saying ‘yes’ and ‘no’ all day?”

He shrugged. “A thank you would be nice.”

“What should I be thanking you for?” I narrowed my eyes at him. I had a feeling he was going to say I should thank him for the orgasms he’d given me—orgasms I didn’t even
remember
having.

Well, if that was what he wanted me to thank him for, he was out of his damn mind. I already had a sarcastic comeback in mind:
it was nothing my vibrator can’t do for me. And at least my vibrator doesn’t take advantage of me when I’m drunk
. Just saying.

“Well, I
did
break my own personal rule of not collaborating with
anyone
to work with you,” Colton replied. “I think that deserves your token of appreciation.”

“Thanks. I really do appreciate it.” I paused for a moment, swirling my straw in my drink nervously. “But why did you break that rule for
me
?”

“That’s a good question. I still haven’t figured out the answer myself,” he admitted, his eyes not moving away from mine.

“Hmm.” I didn’t allow myself to break our gaze, partly to pretend that I felt confident when I was around him but also because I didn’t want to look away. I could’ve gotten lost in those blue eyes forever if I let myself…

“Yes, hmm.” Colton rested his back against the bar next to me. “Did my assistant let your assistant know that we’re going to start working tomorrow?”

“No, your assistant didn’t let my assistant know that. Tomorrow?” I swallowed hard. I’d been mentally preparing for us to start working together on Thursday, which would’ve meant that I’d have
one
day of not seeing him. I didn’t think that was a lot to ask for, considering the two of us had managed to see each other for the past three days.

But I supposed I should probably get used to it. The two of us were going to be spending a lot of time together—probably
too
much
time together.

“Yeah, tomorrow
does
work for you, doesn’t it?” His eyebrows rose in question. “My assistant said you were free.”

For a moment, I thought about making up some lame excuse to get myself out of it, but then I figured the sooner we got this thing underway, the sooner we would be done. And the sooner we were done, the sooner we would be out of each other’s lives forever—the silver lining.

I nodded. “Tomorrow works.”

“Then I guess I’d better stop drinking. I’ll be at your place at nine a.m.,” Colton said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “
Nine a.m.
? Are you out of your damn mind?”

“I can only write early in the morning and late at night,” he explained. “And I have plans for the next few nights, so…”

Of course
he had plans the next few nights. He probably had a different girl on his to-do list for every night of the week.

When I didn’t say anything in response, Colton asked, “Can
you
work with nine a.m.?”

I wasn’t a morning person, so a part of me seriously considered telling him no. But I didn’t want to show him how difficult I could be to work with before we even began.  

“I can work with nine a.m., but only under one condition.” I looked him straight in the eye. “Bring me coffee from Giorgi’s.”

His thick eyebrows knitted together at the center of his forehead. “Are you serious?”

Giorgi’s was the busiest—and not to mention the most expensive—coffee shop in all of L.A. The coffee was seriously delish, but most people found the long, inevitable lines to be hellish, though I personally considered it to be worth every second spent waiting and every dime spent. Still, asking Colton to get it for me was borderline torturous.

I grinned, not bothering to hold back my own amusement. “I’ll take one of their French vanilla signature lattes, extra sugar.”

He stared at me evenly for a moment before nodding. “Fine, I’ll be at your apartment at nine o’clock sharp with coffee from Giorgi’s.”

My eyes grew wide with surprise. I didn’t actually expect him to agree to go for me so easily, but I wasn’t about to argue with him. “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“Yes, you will.”

I stared at Colton’s back as he walked away from me. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad, after all. I mean, sure, things would probably always be sort of awkward between us, but… when he wasn’t being a sarcastic douchebag, we seemed to get along okay, for the most part.

And I also couldn’t deny the fact that he had a
really
nice ass.

Chapter 8

The next morning, my alarm went off bright and early. I sat up in bed, relieved my head wasn’t pounding
too
hard—not as bad as it had been the day before, at least. After Colton left the club, I’d tried not to drink too much, but at the same time, I also needed enough of a buzz to get through the questions that Natalie and Skylar kept throwing at me.

The worst part was that I was pretty sure they kept asking me questions because they didn’t believe me; they thought I was just being secretive and using the excuse of not remembering so that I wouldn’t have to share with them. It was beyond frustrating.

The one positive outcome that
had
come out of the night before was that I’d been a good girl. After we’d gotten home from the club, I went to my room and straight to bed without even feeling the urge to text Jake. That was a first… a very
good
first.
Progress.

As I scanned my closet for something to wear, I weighed my options. I wanted something that would look cute but that also wouldn’t make it look like I was trying
too
hard, either. I didn’t want Colton to think I was trying to impress him by getting all dolled up for a writing session at nine o’clock in the freaking morning. I didn’t want to give him that sort of satisfaction.

After debating over it for a few moments, I finally settled on a pair of skinny jeans and a white tank top. There—casual
and
cute. Come to think of it, I remembered reading in
Cosmopolitan
once that a poll showed most guys find a girl in jeans and a white t-shirt sexy.

Once I got dressed and pulled
my hair into a ponytail, I crept down the hallway, coming to a pause as I stood in front of Skylar’s room. Even though the door was closed, I could hear her snoring like a grizzly bear. I’d gotten drunk with her enough times to know she would likely sleep until one or two in the afternoon and while I didn’t know how long Colton was planning for us to spend working today, I seriously doubted it would be all that long.

Once I was in the living room, I glanced at the time on the wall. It was only 8:30. I needed to figure out a way to keep myself occupied for the next half hour until he got here. The idea of breakfast crossed my mind, but the knots in my stomach told me there was no way I could stomach food right now. The last thing I wanted to do was puke on him.

Since I had a tendency to pace when I was nervous, I forced myself to sit down on the plush white sofa and stared out the window, which overlooked the street. People watching had always helped to calm me down. It was something I’d always done when I was a kid and my mom was passed out on the couch or in bed. I’d look outside at all of the happy families, imagining what it would be like to be a part of them.

Well, I supposed the part of me that had always hoped for a put-together family had given up, because now I found myself watching couples.

I watched as a middle-aged couple walked across the street. They each carried a briefcase in one hand, but their free hands were intertwined in one another’s. When they reached the sidewalk, the man kissed the woman on the cheek and the two parted ways.

Another couple jogged alongside one another. I mean, he could’ve been her workout buddy or something, but the way they glanced over at each other with loving looks in their eyes told me there was something more there. My best guess was that it was the start of a blossoming romance.

I continued to watch out the window until the doorbell finally rang. I glanced at the time. It was 9:15.

I rose to my feet and hurried to open the door. Colton stood on the other side looking… well, impeccable. He was wearing a tight black shirt which showed off his muscular arms, and a pair of jeans. His guitar case was slung over one shoulder and he balanced a coffee cup in his hand.

“You’re fifteen minutes late,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, well, this girl I know just
insisted
that I bring her coffee from Giorgi’s. It was practically an emergency. I hope you can find it in you to forgive me,” he said, straight-faced.

I frowned, playfully pretending to consider it for a moment. “I
guess
I’ll let it slide this time. Come in.” I held the door open wide enough for him to enter the room.

He stepped inside, his eyes darting around my apartment. “This is a cute little place. I looked into renting at this complex a couple of years ago.”

Thankfully
that
hadn’t happened. I couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like to be his neighbor after our one night stand. Working with him sucked enough, but it was only temporary. I couldn’t imagine having to bump into him daily and being forced to see, firsthand, how frequently he hooked up with people.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” I said, taking my coffee cup from him. “You didn’t get anything for yourself. Would you like something to drink?”

“Do you have water?”

I nodded and grabbed him a bottle from the fridge. “I work in my office. I hope that’s okay.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

I led him down the hallway. Once we were both inside my office, I closed the door behind us. I motioned for him to take a seat on the sofa, while I grabbed my own guitar from its case and sat down in my office chair.

“So, how do we do this?” I wondered aloud. It was the first time I’d ever worked with anyone before. I had my own songwriting process, but it was pretty solitary. I didn’t even know the first thing about how to start working with someone else.

“Damned if I know.” He shook his head. “We should probably set some ground rules first.”

“Rules?” I narrowed my eyes at him. If I wanted someone giving me rules to follow, I would’ve gone back to high school.

“Rule one…we both need to agree on the lyrics. I’m not one of those sell-out musicians who will record any song. My motto is that you should write what you know. I need to feel a real emotional connection with the lyrics and stand by their meaning.”

“Me, too,” I said, breathing a slight sigh of relief. I was glad we were on the same page with this so far and that his first “rule” wasn’t anything too crazy. I’m not gonna lie; I hated following rules so much that I had a tendency to break them.

Knowing Colton only wrote what he knew or felt also made me realize something. If I wanted more insight to him as a person, all I needed to do was go back and listen to all of his albums. I made a mental note to add that to my to-do list later on. God, I was such a creeper.

“The second rule is…,” Colton said, pausing as he set his guitar case on the floor in front of him. “We both need to make equal contributions with these songs. I know they’re going to be going on your album, but I’m not going to attach my name to them if you do all the work. And if I’m doing all the writing, it’s not going on your album, period. Everything we do needs to be fifty-fifty.”

“Okay.” I nodded in agreement, even though I had a feeling I would probably struggle with this rule a little more than the first. I was going to somehow need to get past the idea of doing everything my way if we were going to make this work, but I’d known that when I’d signed up for this.

“And the last rule.” He met my gaze and held it there for a moment. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking that any of my lyrics will be about you. They won’t be.”