Page 5 of Paint Our Song (Cloverlily #1)

O n Friday night, Gabby texts him nonstop. He is in his house, on his laptop, googling ideas on how to get more bookings. He gets nothing. She’s asking where he is, and if he’s even coming, or if he bailed.

Right. The bonfire’s starting. Gabby texts that Calvin’s there, and that’s what gets Miles to finally shut his laptop and get up.

When he gets to the bonfire, she waves him over immediately. The fire’s already crackling, and drinks and snacks are being handed around. It’s a mellow gathering, like it usually is—there are locals, as well as a few tourists. A local band is playing, and the sweet smell of s’mores is in the air. It contrasts the usual bars where his coworkers back in the city drag him to, and he can’t complain.

Standing beside Gabby is Calvin.

“Hiii!” Gabby says. “What took you so long!?”

“Lost track of time,” he says.

Gabby’s about to say something, and then she flinches and her eyes narrow. She’s looking somewhere behind Miles and he frowns, confused. He turns his head—

“No, don’t,” Calvin says.

Okay. Miles snaps his attention back to them.

“I’m going to go over and call them out,” Gabby mumbles. “The girls on the other side of the fire have been eyeing Calvin like vultures.”

Before he realizes what’s going on, Gabby puts a hand on his arm and moves him sideways until he’s right in front of Calvin—likely blocking him from the view of the girls. Calvin seems as caught off-guard as he is, and they stare at each other for a long, stunned moment. Awkwardly, Miles smiles, and he returns it weakly.

“Say the word, and I’ll tell them off!” Gabby grins. It’s astonishing how easily she speaks to him. “It’s rude of them to disturb your time off.”

Miles, who had accidentally yelled his presence the other day, cringes. “Shit, people like that suck,” he says, as nonchalantly as possible.

That earns him a soft laugh from Calvin. Oh. He has dimples. Up this close, Miles can see them.

“So annoying, really. Anyway, Miles, didn’t you mention you finished a commission right before coming to Ridgeford? You haven’t shown me.”

“I did a piece for a newly opened coffee shop. It’s nothing much.”

“I want to see,” Calvin says, and Miles jolts in surprise. Oh.

He scrolls through his phone and shows them the screen. He mostly does watercolor paintings with bright warm tones and enjoys working on everyday scenes. This painting was the interior of the cafe, with the tables all occupied and baristas taking orders by the counter. It’s an everyday scene with people simply going on about their day.

Honestly, even he’s not sure why his work’s quite popular. For him, his art is… basic.

“This is great,” Gabby says, genuinely. “… no, seriously, this is amazing.”

“It’s not—” He stops when he sees Gabby leveling a glare at him. “I mean… thanks.”

He’s not even trying to be humble about it. Miles truly doesn’t think his art is all that great. Everything until this point—the clients, the awards he got in university, the way his works sell out at the gallery—was all out of pure luck. He’s always been good with people, and they helped connect him with who he needed to meet to jumpstart his career. Even the cover he did for Cloverlily was probably because of pure luck. Their recording studio was in the same city as his university. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think a connection had given his name in passing.

Perhaps his art was so mainstream that it was easily appreciated. That’s all.

At the corner of his eyes, he notices the group of women have circled around the bonfire and are slowly approaching. They’re becoming more excited by the second, and slowly inching closer. Because of their ruckus, a few more people are looking over. He’s pretty sure a man closer to the bonfire is pointing his phone camera at Calvin .

“Oh no,” Gabby whispers. One woman approaches, and Calvin’s grip tightens on his beer bottle.

“Hi! Can I get your autograph?” she asks, cheeks red and swollen. Behind her, her friends giggle, as if they’ve dared her to do this. The woman hopefully holds out a marker to him. Where she even got it, Miles can only guess.

He nods and takes the marker from her, hand hovering in the air. “Do you have something I can sign, or…?”

Miles’s eyes almost bug out of their sockets when the woman giggles and leans down toward Calvin. She pulls her top down slightly and gestures at the spot right under her collarbone. Gabby makes a face.

“…Ah. Okay,” Calvin says. He signs on the spot she’s pointing at. The girl giggles again, and she leans more into his space to show off her cleavage.

“Would you like to join us?” she asks, standing up straight again. Glancing over at the rest of the group, she adds, “Would you all like to join us?”

“No, thank you,” Gabby says, straight to the point.

“I’m good here, thanks,” Calvin says.

To her credit, the woman’s able to take a hint. She thanks him once more and heads off back to her group.

“Does that happen often… people asking you to sign on their bodies?” Gabby asks Calvin.

“More often than I care for,” Calvin admits. He looks as if he has more to say, but then he retreats into himself again and takes a sip of his beer .

“Do you want to leave?” Miles asks.

Before Calvin’s able to answer, Gabby’s phone chirps. Frowning, she reads a text message. “Shit. I need to leave. There’s a lady by the front desk who’s not happy about how she didn’t get the king beds she requested. The trainee doesn’t know how to change the rooms in the system.”

Miles frowns. “Didn’t your shift literally just end?”

“Yes, but our trainee’s freaking out.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“You don’t need to. It’s my job. So sorry, Calvin. I convinced you to come and now I’m fleeing. I’ll come back right away.”

“No worries, I want to head back, anyway.” Right after he says that, Calvin’s stare drifts over Miles’s shoulder and his mouth curls into a slight frown.

“What’s wrong?” Miles asks. He turns his head, and he spots the vocalist of the local band walking over to them.

“Hi,” she says to Calvin, fingers playing with the hem of her shirt. She’s got a sweet voice, a huge contrast to how she sounded while singing. “I’m not sure if you remember me.”

“Jeanette,” Calvin says. “We played together last time I was in town.”

She beams. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but would you like to play again?”

Jeanette’s much more polite than the woman from earlier—Miles gives her that. Calvin’s eyes flicker at her.

“I’d love to, but I was actually about to go.”

“Oh!” Jeanette’s cheeks redden, and she takes a slight step back. “ Yes! Yes, of course. Thank you.”

Just when it seems like that’s the end, there are squeals from behind her. The group of women from earlier are waving at Calvin. “C’mon, Calvin Lowe! One song before you go!”

“Don’t be a snob!” says a loud voice from the back.

There are several phones pointing in their direction now, and cheers from the small crowd. Calvin’s jaw twitches, and Jeanette looks apologetic, as if this all is her fault. Calvin closes his eyes and exhales. When he opens them again, he asks, “What song would you like to play?”

Jeaneatte apologizes, but is still grinning despite herself. At the same time, Gabby makes a move to leave, but not before leaning close to Miles and whispering, “Don’t leave until Calvin does. I’ll be back.”

“Wha—Gabby, I’m not a bodyguard,” he splutters. Neither are you.

Calvin has turned away and is talking to Jeanette. She asks if he’d like to play on the guitar.

“You need to make sure he’ll be able to leave,” Gabby hisses. “He’s our guest. We’re responsible for him.”

Okay. Turns out he’s staying, then. At least he’ll be able to watch Calvin play.

When the music starts, everything else goes silent. He recognizes this intro, knows this melody, and has listened to it countless times.

It’s a different experience to see Calvin live like this. He’s not usually the one who sings. Calvin’s the guitarist, not the lead vocalist. He does back-up vocals, and on rare occasions in small and relaxed gigs, he duets with the lead vocalist, or sings on his own. Miles has never even seen any official videos of him singing before. It was usually from fan videos posted on social media—blurry, shaky videos with not as much traction.

Calvin looks so at ease, a contrast to the strung-up way he’s been the past few days. He avoids looking at the crowd, unlike how their lead vocalist does. His lips are quirked into a slight smile, expression relaxed, his voice carrying a cadence that makes Miles’ chest thrum, and Miles—Miles is enamored. He’s completely, undeniably enamored by what’s in front of him.

The band’s singer, Jeanette, isn’t singing along. She’s only playing her guitar, and Calvin soon notices because he nods at her and urges her on. They sing in unison, her voice giving the song a feminine touch.

There are several phones in the air. Miles wonders if any of these videos will pop-up on his social media later on, and as soon as the song ends, the crowd asks for another. Calvin’s jaw tightens, but he obliges.

And Miles watches, baffled that the man he’s seen around for the last two days could be the same man who’s performing, making butterflies dance around in his stomach.

He’s trying to figure it all out when a voice behind him calls out, “Miles, hey!”

He turns to see Jeff, someone who was a few years higher than him in high school. Miles recalls that he’s worked with big-shot hotels in other cities—which means it’s possible Camilla Hotel’s a client of his. A sour sensation settles in Miles’ stomach .

“Hey, I thought it was you,” Jeff says, stopping in front of him.

“How are you?”

“Life’s good. Getting married to Bridget next month.”

Bridget. Miles remembers her—a preppy brunette from Jeff’s year who was in the cheer squad. Now that he thinks about it, Jeff used to be on the football team. They were the classic jock and cheerleader combo.

“Congratulations,” Miles says.

“How’s your inn?”

“Same old.”

Jeff doesn’t seem convinced—or rather, he’s uninterested. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card from his wallet, and Miles realizes exactly why he’s not liking this conversation at all. Jeff’s been responsible for selling some of the land in town. Miles can tell where this is going.

“We’re not selling,” Miles says quickly.

“I hear you,” Jeff says, grinning widely. Miles doubts it. “I give my card out to everyone who owns property by the lake, just on the off-chance that you’d need a property agent. Casting a wide net, you know?”

He doesn’t know. “Okay.”

“On the off-chance that you’d be interested, give me a call! Say hi to your mom for me?”

“Sure.” Jeff claps his shoulder and walks back to the group he was with, and Miles puts his attention back to Calvin.

Calvin and the local band play a few more songs, and half an hour passes by too quickly. He gets a text message from Gabby saying that the trainee is asking her to go through the system and she can’t head back, and Miles takes a photo of Calvin still playing with the band and sends it to her.

As soon as the band finally calls it a night, a small crowd immediately ambushes Calvin, asking for selfies. He obliges—even if his pursed lips say he’s not too pleased. The questions they send his way range from kind to downright inappropriate. Is he dating anyone? Is Cloverlily really breaking up? Calvin cracks a fake smile at these questions and ignores them in every other way. Miles watches everything unfold before him. A part of him has a hunch that Calvin may be more shy than he lets on, because he can’t seem to shake off the crowd and outright tell them he’s done for the night.

Miles takes matters into his own hands. He squeezes himself between the small crowd and approaches Calvin, who spots him and raises his eyebrows.

“Sorry, everyone.” Miles sneaks up beside Calvin and puts a hand on his arm, gently guiding him away. “Time to wrap it up. We don’t want to get noise complaints.” Which is a lie, because the other small businesses around the lake couldn’t care less about the bonfire’s noise. Also, he’s pretty sure he spots some of the police force out of their uniforms, also trying to get selfies.

There are groans all around, but the crowd lets Miles and Calvin through.

“Thank you,” Calvin mutters. “Did you wait for me?”

Grinning, Miles says, “Yes. Gabby made me your designated bodyguard for the night.”

“I don’t need a bodyguard. ”

“Lighten up, I’m kidding.”

Calvin does not, in fact, lighten up. If anything, his frown deepens.

As they leave, there are still several phones pointed their way and a few people who look like they want to go after them. Miles leads the way inside the inn. He looks back a few times to make sure nobody’s following them, in case someone wanted to stalk Calvin to his room. That happens sometimes, right? Damn, maybe he’s taking this fake bodyguard job too seriously. He even walks him all the way to the elevators, and Gabby nods at them as they pass the reception desk.

“That was cool of you,” Miles says.

Calvin makes a noncommittal sound that’s pretty much a grunt.

“I think you should go before your fans come in and maul you again,” Miles says. So far, nobody else has followed them—but it’s only a matter of time.

“Why do your bonfires have so many people? It was also like that last time.” Calvin hesitates. “I… uh, I didn’t think you had that many guests.”

He shrugs. “Locals and tourists from the other inns come over, too. Maybe even guests from Camilla Hotel. It’s a thing.”

Calvin presses the button to the elevator. “I just wish there was a place aside from my room where I can get actual privacy.” He freezes. “Not that I’m complaining. I appreciate all the support.”

“You can complain,” Miles says. Then, a light bulb goes off above his head. He knows exactly how to solve Calvin’s problem. “Wait! I know a place where you can get more privacy! Wait here!”

Miles rushes off to the reception. He reaches around the counter and grabs a key.

“You’re going to the roof garden?” Gabby looks up from the computer she’s sharing with the trainee.

“Yeah! I’m going to show Calvin.”

He doesn’t wait for Gabby’s reaction to that. Turning toward the elevator, he’s relieved to see Calvin waiting for him. The elevator doors open and Miles steps in, gesturing for Calvin to follow him.