As Dust Dances

My smile was full of mischief. “You’re acting like it’s my fault. You started it.”

I laughed at his glare and walked away, only to glance over my shoulder to find him watching me. Watching me predatorily with a promise in his gaze.

I shivered, very much looking forward to him acting on that promise.

When I reached the studio, Eve looked behind my shoulder as I stepped inside. “Where’s Mr. O’Dea?”

“Oh, someone stopped to ask him something. He’ll be here in a minute.” I smiled at Oliver. “Hey, did Eve introduce you to the guys?”

“Aye, all intros have been made,” Oliver said congenially. “You ready to lay down ‘In the Wind’?”

Of all the songs the guys got to hear, it would have to be that one. I gulped, feeling nervous. “Sure.”

“What’s this one about?” Brandon asked. He and Micah took seats at the deck and I walked toward the booth door.

I blew out air between my lips and it sounded shaky even to my ears. “It’s about my mom.”

Silence fell over the booth and I pushed inside. I had to forget that the guys were here. I had to forget that everyone was here. I’d already recorded this song, but my mind wasn’t in the right place and neither Killian nor I were happy with it. Hence I was back to rerecord it.

A thought struck me and I pushed open the door to tell Oliver I didn’t have my guitar when Killian walked into the studio.

With my guitar case.

How? I blinked up at him like an owl as he held it out to me. “I forgot to ask you to bring it, so I had Autumn run over with it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No.” I shook my head as I took it from him. “Thanks.”

He placed a hand on the side of the booth, essentially blocking me from everyone else’s view. He lowered his voice to whisper, “Forget we’re all here. It’s just you and your guitar.”

Hoping I could do that, I disappeared back into the booth and got set up. I didn’t look out into the studio at all. I settled on the stool, put the headphones on, made sure the mic for the guitar was set right, and I began to sing about losing my soul when I lost my mom. About letting it drift into the wind and being lost at sea.

I sang it with all the grief I’d felt the last two years.

As I finished the lyrics—“But it’s always out of reach”—I looked up and locked eyes with Killian. It wasn’t true anymore. Somehow, he’d helped me find my soul again. It would never be whole, but I think that’s what life was about. You started out with a pure, whole soul and life took hits at it. It charred it, bruised it, and sometimes even smashed it to dust. But there were ways to hold on to it and to even piece it back together in new ways. To add patches of light to a shadowy bruise, to stitch a crack with a little thread of joy.

“Wow, that was awesome, Skylar,” Oliver’s voice crackled through the headphones and made me jump. “I don’t think we need another run at that.”

I jerked my gaze from Killian to Brandon and Micah. Brandon’s eyes were wet with tears and Micah looked conflicted.

After I packed my guitar away, I ventured out of the booth only to drop the case against the wall as Brandon came at me. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my head. “That was stunning, Sky. Fucking stunning.”

I smiled and hugged him hard. “Thank you.”

He pulled back, his eyes washing over me. “Music heals, yeah?”

Tears burned in my nose and I nodded. “It’s definitely helping.”

Reluctantly, he let me go and I gazed past him at Micah.

He glanced at Killian. “Give us the room.”

Killian’s expression hardened, but he looked at me for the answer.

Even though I was afraid of what Micah had to say, I nodded.

I could tell this did not make Killian happy, but he asked everyone to give us privacy. We shared a long look as he was the last to leave. I gave him a reassuring nod.

Then I waited.

Micah took a step toward me, anguish all over his face. “I didn’t get it.”

“Didn’t get it?”

He shook his head. “I loved Angie. I miss her. It kills me what happened to her and Bryan, but I didn’t get it. Until now.” He gestured to the booth, his voice suddenly hoarse. “That is some song, Sky. It’d make a grown fucking man want to cry.” Micah’s eyes narrowed on me. “That’s what you felt this whole time? That’s what you were going through?”

My God.

A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.

It really shouldn’t have surprised me that it would take my song to finally communicate my feelings to Micah. The guy understood music more than he understood anything.

“That’s how I felt up until three months ago, yes.”

He scrubbed a hand over his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t get it.”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to make you understand.”

“I forgive you,” he burst out, striding over to grab my shoulders. “Sky, I forgive you.”

Relief moved through me and I nodded, choked on my emotion. Finally, I managed, “Thank you.”

We shared a sweet moment of silent understanding and then worry clouded Micah’s expression. “Be careful with him.”

Knowing instinctively that he was talking about Killian, I hoped I could relieve him of his concerns. “Killian cares about this album. I trust that he’ll do what he can to protect it and me.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Micah dropped his hands from my shoulders. “He’s the friend you were talking about.”

Anxious that he’d guessed right, I tensed, not knowing what to say to dissuade him.

He smirked unhappily. “It was the way you looked at him when you finished the song.”

Shit. Had anyone else picked up on that?

“He cares about you too. Or at least he’s possessive of you. The guy looks at me like he wants to rip my head off.”

“Micah—”

“Don’t lie to me, Sky. Just be careful. This is your label now and he’s . . . I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

“You will if he makes the same mistake as me.”

“What mistake was that?”

He shrugged, looking forlorn. “I knew you were miserable and I stood by and did nothing about it because I was a selfish asshole who didn’t want to lose my band.”

That old hurt flared to life.

“I guess we both chose the band over each other in the end.” Micah sighed. “I’m letting all that shit go and you should too. But you shouldn’t ever forget. This time you pick a guy who cares more about your happiness than he does about his own. Promise me you’ll do that.”

A part of me loved him for saying that but another part resented him. Because I knew, deep down, it was a promise that would take me from Killian.

“Sky, promise me,” he insisted.

Knowing he was right, knowing it was right, I whispered, “I promise.”

* * *

MY SIGHS OF ECSTASY WERE short and breathless as I rose and fell over Killian. His hand caressed my right breast, his calloused fingertips causing delicious prickling sensations across them both, while his other hand held my left hip tight in his grip.

Mine lay pressed upon his hard chest as I rode him, our eyes connected the entire time our bodies were. His gaze burned with want, need, possession, as the tension tightened inside of me. I moved slowly over him, his thickness gliding in and out in teasing, languorous strokes that took us toward oblivion on an exquisitely slow roller coaster ride uphill.

“Killian,” I moaned, feeling my climax edging closer. I slid my hands down his chest, my thumbs dragging over his nipples.

His expression grew tauter and he practically bared his teeth at me. “Harder,” he grunted, pulling on my hip.

I shook my head, grinding down into him.

“Skylar.” He squeezed my breast. “More.”

“I like this.” I panted as the coiling tension reached breaking point. My hips moved faster of their own accord as my body suddenly hungered for instant satisfaction now that it was so near.