Untwisted Read Online Free Page B

his songs to artists, he’d already begun to note differences. Some didn’t want what he was selling and intended to fight him at every turn. Others wanted to make sure he knew they needed to put their own mark on his lyrics. Some said it confrontationally, as if they expected him to be a diva about the whole process.
    He truly didn’t give a shit. He understood a band needing to add their own flair to the lyrics he came up with. Actually he preferred that. He didn’t want his songs sung by robots just collecting a paycheck. Music mattered .
    When the group he worked with was like today’s band, The Grunge, collaboration became seriously fun. They’d let him into their practice space and treated him like one of them, rather than an unwanted emissary sent over by a hostile record company as some groups tended to do. By the end of the night, they’d worked on two solid songs and were halfway to a third. He’d even gotten to jam with them, because they were Oblivion fans. How cool was that?
    He started to call out for Jazz, then noticed the bathroom door was cracked open and light beamed out from underneath. He grinned and shucked his T-shirt, ready to make up for their sort of argument earlier. He’d been driving without his hands-free headset when her second call had come through, and though he’d fumbled for the phone anyway, he hadn’t gotten it in time. As tempted as he’d been to call her back, he’d known that they would probably get into it again and he needed to keep his head in the game.
    Somehow he had to figure out how to express to her the importance of him logging some serious songwriting credentials. If he could crack that nut, they wouldn’t have to worry financially for a damn long time, but she didn’t seem to understand that. So he would keep trying.
    In the meantime, he’d make it up to her for their fight the best way he knew how.
    His hand lowered to the button of his jeans as he licked his lips and walked toward the partially open door. He could already tell she’d used that watermelon body wash again, and the scent instantly made him hard. Nudging the door open with his foot, he leaned inside, ready to drop his jeans and boxers in about five seconds flat if she seemed interested.
    Instead he froze, the greeting on his lips turning into a long exhale.
    She was asleep in the tub. The frothy water lapping around her belly and breasts didn’t hide the headphones on her stomach. Tinny classical music played while she slept. Her cheeks were rosy from the heat, her lashes heavy and dark on her porcelain skin. The warmth had pinkened her up, increasing the flush on her throat and nipples.
    He shifted. Fuck, he shouldn’t look at her nipples right now. Not when he had a goddamn lump in his throat from the simple sight of her with those headphones, cradling their baby. She’d mentioned playing music for the baby but he’d never actually seen it. He had no choice but to drop to his knees beside the tub to rouse her with soft fingertips on her damp cheek.
    “Hey,” he murmured when her lids lifted drowsily. “I’m sorry to wake you.” He slipped his hand into the water and frowned at how cool it was. “Come on, let’s get you dried off and into bed.”
    “Nuh-uh.” She sat up and nudged away his hand. “I’m fine. What time is it?” Then she slumped back down, sending the headphones plopping into the water. “You’re here.”
    “Of course I’m here.” He fished out her headphones and shook them off. “Not sure these will be here for much longer though.”
    “They’re waterproof. I paid a mint for them so the baby could listen to music while I napped.” She yawned. “Turns out napping is something I want to do a lot lately.”
    He frowned, noticing the paleness of her cheeks now that the warm water flush was fading. “You’re working yourself too hard. Did you finish in the studio?”
    “Yeah.” She turned her cheek toward her inflatable pillow, her eyes already closing