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“Did you ever want to play with them?” Lewis asked.

“God no.” I tugged the cuffs of my sweater over my hands. “My parents forced me to learn piano. I hated it. Plus, the boys never wanted a girl in their band.”

“True.” Cole swiped up his coffee and took a big sip. “But you loved pressing our buttons.”

“I sure did.” And flicking switches. Like the one that had turned on being in the same room as Lewis. Just sitting next to him caused heat to rise in my cheeks and had my fingers twitching with the urge to touch him. Now I had to work out how to turn it off. But as I was a sucker for punishment, I leaned against Lewis’s arm and pointed to each of the guys. “See? Cole thinks he controls the band with his drums. Flint believes he’s the leader because he sings. Slip claims to be the life of the show on his electric. Phil thought he was in charge with his basslines. But in reality, it was me, or whoever sat at the control panel, who held them by the balls. I could kill their voices or their instruments with the turn of a dial.”

“You like that?” Narrowing his eyes, Lewis lifted his chin a fraction. “You like being in control? Dominating the guys? Having them at your mercy?”

“Always.” I threw him a mischievous smile.

“No games, Tia.” Flint smacked his coffee cup down onto the table. “You can help as long as you don’t fuck around. We’ve got to get Lewis up to speed before we hit the studio. Got it?”

“Yes, boss.” I pouted.

Flint groaned then smiled a big, gorgeous smile.

As we lazed on the sofas, Flint and Lewis did a few run-throughs of the song they’d been working on. They discussed the alternative intros and listened to a variety of beats Lewis strummed. None stuck as much as the one he and Flint had first played. Lewis’s suggestions, tied with Flint’s incredible voice, added a new layer of seduction to the lyrics. After the final okay from everyone, Flint and Lewis played the track. Flint sang, soft and low.

It’s been so long since my heart beat,

It’s been so long since I felt anything.

Thought my days would fall apart,

Thought my nights would be endlessly dark.

I walked alone for way too long,

I cried too many tears at home alone.

The fire inside me had gone out,

All I wanted to do was scream and shout.

But I wouldn’t let losing you crush my soul,

The pain inside me had to go.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Lewis. His hand caressed the neck of his bass, and his fingers glided across the strings like they floated on air. Would his touch on my skin be that gentle or would his calloused fingertips scratch?

Shit! What the fuck was I doing? I needed to get him out of my head. Would spending time with him kill this weirdness or make it worse? Was my life set on repeat? What the hell was it about bassists?

“Can we record the whole song?” Slip edged forward on his seat and rubbed his hands together, no doubt eager to get on his strings. “It’s wicked.”

Flint slipped his fingers down the neck of his guitar; the sound sliced the air. “Tee, you up for that?”

“Sure am.” I got up from the sofa, wincing as I put weight onto my ankle. As I lumbered over to the desk and mixer, I glanced over my shoulder. Lewis tracked my every move. He wasn’t making it easy to kill the strange, undeniable, totally fucked-up attraction I felt toward him.

Cole brought Flint’s laptop over to the desk and plugged it into the monitors. “This is the latest version of the audio software. It hasn’t changed much since you probably last used it.”

“Thanks.” I sank onto the office chair and scanned the equipment. The recording software filled the screens. Lights on the control panel flashed green. I glided my fingers over the channel levers. My fingertips tingled. Dials and buttons begged to be turned and pressed. Oh yeah. This could be fun. “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be back up to speed.”

“Good.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now behave.” He pointed at me as he walked toward his drums.

“Always.”

I put on the headphones and clicked through the software. The audio program had a new interface, but the functions were the same.