Page 38 of The Beat Match

“So you can lick your finger and stick it in my ear?” A gross stunt Leo had taught him.

“It would be fun, but no. Close your eyes. Listen for the beats until you feel them more than hear them.”

She dialed down her dancing, closed her eyes, and listened. She counted the phrasing in her head. It wasn’t a typical eight-bar chorus, making it hard to track. She squeezed her eyes tighter, but dizziness rocked her. A warm weight pressed against her back—Wes’s hand steadying her equilibrium. He was usually the calm to her chaos. The caution to her impulsivity. But the heat from his hand seeped through her dress. Hamptons sunshine warm. And she suddenly wanted more chaos than calm. To lean into him, feel his sunlight in her bones, live wildly without worrying about consequences.

Unfortunately, he seemed keen to forget their kiss, and there was the minor problem of his girlfriend. Plus this was a test of sorts. One she had no intention of failing.

She held her breath, listened, listened, listened so hard.

“Feel it,” he murmured in her ear.

How was she supposed to feel anything besides his proximity? His persistent blasts of bone-melting heat? She felt cheated, having kissed Wes without realizing it had been him. If she’d known, she would have…what? Mauled him on stage? Bitten his lip for his lies then licked it better like some depraved vampire? No. She would have panicked. She’d been fighting her attraction to him then. She wasn’t fighting it now, but she was nervous around him, and the distraction was messing with her concentration.

She took deeper breaths, relaxed her tense body, and moved to the beat again. Wes matched her rhythm, his fingers spreading wider on her back. The contact pebbled her skin, and a small sigh escaped her lips.

Focus, Annie.

She quit counting the beats, let the bass control her movements instead, listened with her body instead of her ears. Moved more freely.

There. After the chorus. Two extra bars, then a drop.

She opened her eyes. Her finger itched to press the fader. She controlled her impulse, waited for the next chorus, no longer dizzy or uncertain. She was conscious of Wes’s hand still on her back, but she was more focused on the music. The tempo changed. Her heart raced as she pressed the lever. When the beats lined up, she jumped, and Wes laughed.

She swiveled and hugged him, instantly realizing her error. Their proximity short-wired her already haywire hormones, made everything inside her glow warmer. Hot sun. Everywhere.

Wes latched his arm around her, both of them breathing hard. Something in his pants also felt hard. And did he just inhale her hair? “You did good, Squirrel…shit. Annie. You did good, Annie.”

He pulled back at his fumble, moved behind a console, hiding his crotch from view. It could be wishful thinking, but she was pretty sure their hug had affected him. This whole evening had affected her.

“I don’t mind.” She readjusted the shoulders on her dress and slowed her breaths. “Like this, the name’s kind of sweet.”

He didn’t budge from behind the console. “No. It’s not. I’ll shake the habit eventually.”

She suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted him to. She may have imagined his reaction to her just now, but he’d said the nickname with pride, a private name only he used. It made her feel special. Admitting as much was sharing too much of her feelings, and it wasn’t fair to berate him for the label one minute, then go all squishy at the endearment the next.

She wiped her palms down her skirt and surveyed her new classroom. “You’ll have lots of practice not calling me Squirrel during our lessons. I can do three or four times a week. Five if you can swing it. And I can help with your shows, setting up or—”

“No.”

She paused. Maybe he’d misheard her. “I know we haven’t talked about you officially teaching me, but I’m committed to this. I’ll work around your schedule. And three times is fine.”

He seemed to grow ten inches taller as he crossed his arms, his expression suddenly as impenetrable as his father’s. “You can use the space when I’m not here, send me tracks to critique. I don’t have time to do more.”

His eyes were still slightly sunken, bruised underneath. Balancing two lives, when one of those was heading Aldrich Pharma, was taking its toll. She should finally ask him about that, but he would use the topic change to his advantage. “You make time for your own music, right? You don’t show up to your sets and wing it.”

His fingers looked like they were crushing his biceps. “Your point?”

“If you don’t have time for instruction, let me sit in. I’ll be quieter than Felix. You’ll barely notice I’m here.”

His gaze darted to her cheek, then to her lips. It was the same fidgetiness he’d exhibited in the dive bar, before she’d known about his dual identities. Interesting. Her cheek had still been chafed from his mask that night. It could have been a reminder of their kiss to him. Attraction he didn’t want to face.

“Answer’s still no,” he said curtly, not meeting her eyes.

Weston always made eye contact. He’d lectured her on the importance of strong handshakes, eye contact, and listening when networking with people or potential employers. She’d give him a limp shake to annoy him, but she’d listened to his advice, and she was attuned to his behavior now. His uncharacteristic awkwardness suggested she hadn’t imagined his body’s response to her. Maybe her Rosanna theory was also on point and Wes had feelings for Annie, but he couldn’t handle all they entailed.

The prospect of dating him certainly scared her, but what if he was the reason she’d never fallen in love? What if her heart had known all along where it belonged?

She’d have to do some sleuthing on his relationship status, maybe ask Vivian’s girlfriend for private-eye tips. First she had to lock down Wes the DJ. “You sure that’s your final answer?” she asked. “Because an anonymous call to your father or Biotrell—that’s the company you’re wooing into a merger, right?” When his jaw looked ready to break, she grinned. “Like I said, a quick call about a certain executive’s extracurricular activities wouldn’t look too good for you, would it?”