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She lived in the moment.
“Was that a happy noise or a scared noise?” Asa asked climbing back onto the bed.
He’d left the curtains open and the strobe effect of the lightning against the dark backdrop felt… cozy.
Was that weird?
Probably.
It wasn’t a full blackout; she could see lights further off in the distance. But their little section of the grid remained dark.
Both of them shifted where they’d been sitting on the bed so their backs were to the headboard and they could watch the storm out the window.
Zara loved, loved,lovedthunderstorms.
“When I was a kid,” she started, not knowing why she was revealing this part of herself to Asa. Maybe because it felt safethere in that hotel room. Maybe because he’d already told her she didn’t have to share anything if she didn’t want to. Maybe because he was connected to Nikki and as a consequence, she naturally trusted him. “Eating in the car with my dad while it rained was one of my favorite things.”
He grunted softly.
The rain pelted the window, running in thick watery lines down the glass. Thunder rumbled through the ground and into her chest. The combination echoed in her mind as an under riff and she hummed it to herself.
Asa chuckled beside her. “Are you writing right now?”
Yes.
She was always writing.
But she didn’t want to turn her phone on and risk being interrupted by the outside world.
“Can I use your phone?” she asked softly. He could say no and she’d be fine with that. She’d probably be able to remember what she was thinking for later.
But he didn’t say no.
She heard the quiet rustling of his jeans as he took it out of his pocket and the faint click of him unlocking it.
He slid the warm rectangle into her outstretched palm. They had the same phone. His didn’t have a case or a crack running through the screen though.
She opened the voice memo app and hummed the under riff. A melody started to form and her voice wandered into that area for a while. No words, just feelings. She tried to capturethe atmosphere of the moment as best she could. When she’d exhausted her ideas for the time being, she set the phone aside.
“You’re the real deal, aren’t you?” Asa asked, voice deep and soft at the same time.
She glanced his way and tried to read his face in the dark.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied hesitantly.
He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, as he rubbed a black eyebrow with a knuckle. “I just mean to say…” He sighed and rested his hands in his lap. You’re what, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-three,” she corrected him softly. “Until February.”
“Holy shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, but holy shit.” Asa covered his mouth with a hand.
Her cheeks heated. It wasn’t the first time someone had remarked on her age in combination with her career. She never knew how she was supposed to feel. Was she supposed to feel bad about it? Or embarrassed?
So, she was twenty-three. Did that make her talent illegitimate?
“I’m sorry,” he said again, trying to catch her eyes in the lightning. “I was just surprised is all.”
She shrugged, trying to push the discomfort off her shoulders. “People assume because of my age that I don’t know what’s going on. Or that I don’t understand people or the world or business or what have you.”
