Page 73 of Hard Rock Muse

“What is this?” Julian asked in his usual low tones.

“You’ve been acting like a stone wall these last few days,” Cerise told him.

His brows drew down into a frown but he didn’t say anything to protest or defend himself.

“Yes, see that?” Cerise thrust her index finger at his nose. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” She gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry to spring this on you.” She turned back to Julian. “Our album isn’t going to write itself. I can’t have you moping around like Nathan did when he and Becca had a fight.”

Julian still stood in the doorway, arms at his sides, looking at a loss.

“I need you to get it together.” Although Cerise’s words were harsh, her tone was gentle. “Whatever’s going on, you need to work it out. Okay?”

Cerise didn’t wait for his answer. She patted my shoulder and pressed the USB key into my hand.

“There’s two versions of the single on there,” she said. “Let me know what you think of both.”

She brushed passed Julian on her way out, whispering something that made the tips of his ears burn and his eyes drop to the floor.

I wondered how much Cerise knew about me and Julian, about our past and about what was going on with us now. I wondered what she could possibly say to make him flush like that.

Was it similar to what Abby had whispered to me when she’d seen Julian walk out of my bedroom?

Don’t mess it up this time.

Even after Cerise left the two of us alone, Julian and I stayed silent, neither of us wanting to speak first.

I played with the USB key, turning it over and over in my hand.

“Cerise says she’s fighting with the execs,” I said as an opener.

“When is she not?” Julian replied.

His eyes lifted from the floor, but he wouldn’t look at me. He stared at the piano so intently I thought he might be trying to play it with his mind alone.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to ambush you like this. I didn’t know what Cerise had planned.”

Julian nodded and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking uncomfortable.

I hated that I’d made him feel that way. All I’d wanted was for him to open up to me, but now he was just retreating into himself, guarding himself against me like he did with the rest of the world.

“I know you’re mad at me for prying,” I told him. “But I just—”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted. “I get it.”

Julian ran a hand through his hair, pushing it away from his dark eyes, and exhaled loudly. His expression was pinched.

“I’m sorry for running off,” he said reluctantly, as if it were a struggle to force the words out.

“I understand why you did,” I replied. “I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard when you were obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. You’ve always been—”

Julian winced, as if bracing himself, and I quickly searched for a word that wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“—Reserved,” I finished.

He snorted. “I’m an emotionally repressed, closed-mouth asshole, you mean.”

“I wasn’t going to go that far.”

Even if it was true.

An idea occurred to me then.

“Will you come with me?” I asked him.

“Where?” he asked, sounding suspicious.

I went to him and took his hand. He let me. I brushed my thumb against his knuckles. He didn’t pull away. I brought his hand to my chest and looked into his eyes.

“Back to where it all began,” I said.