Unspoken Words (Unspoken #1) (2 page)

I approach the gate, and notice my flight is going to be packed from the lack of unoccupied chairs. I plop down my laptop bag and carry-on and lean against the window to wait for the attendant to announce my flight. I’m praying the seat next to me is vacant so I can catch up on sleep after my late night checking out a local band for a piece I’m working on.

My internship while attending Stanford was at one of the most prestigious music magazines,
Key Notes
. It paid off and I was offered a permanent position with the magazine after graduation.

I love living in LA, but my favorite perk of the job is the fact my company flies me to New York often.
Key Notes
has an office in New York City, so when there are bands on the East Coast that my boss wants me to see, they send me out there. Although
Key Notes
provides me with an expense account, I’d rather not stay at a hotel. Especially when my family lives there. So, I usually crash at my parents’ house, with my twin brother, Christian, or with the only other man in my life—my best friend, Jamieson.

Just thinking of Jamieson—or as everyone calls him, Jaime—puts a smile on my face. Being home for a few months means I will get to spend a lot of time with him, just like old times. Knowing we are both single, the possibility of us hooking up has crossed my mind a few times but the timing has never been right and I always fear he doesn’t feel the same.

I’ve wanted to say something to him for quite some time. But I don’t know if I could handle the rejection if he didn’t feel the same way as I do. Once I cross that line, there is no going back to what we used to be. I never wanted to risk our friendship. With me living in Los Angeles now, I savor the time I get with my family and friends when I am on the East Coast. I love having quality time with my girls, whether it’s a day at the spa or even taking a run in Central Park.

The sudden movement of the crowd of people at the gate shakes me out of my daze. People start to line up and wait for their rows to be called. One of the perks of traveling for business is first-class.
Key Notes
treats me well. Once they announce first-class is boarding, I grab my laptop bag, carry-on and head toward the attendant.

After my ticket is scanned, I proceed down the jet bridge. Making my way to my seat, I notice that the seat next to me is vacant. Saying a silent prayer, I hope it remains that way for the entire flight. The last thing I need is a chatterbox sitting next to me. On my last trip an older woman talked to me the entire flight. I don’t think she came up for air. I swear, she was sucking the oxygen out of the cabin and my ears were bleeding by the time we landed.

I shove my overly-stuffed carry-on in the overhead compartment and grab my iPod to prepare for the possibility of a chatty seatmate. Sliding into my seat by the window, I instantly begin to feel my body relax. With my busy schedule these past months, I didn’t realize how much I missed my family and friends.

When I received my itinerary for this trip, I was shocked to see how many events were on my schedule. My boss, Shelby, made sure she packed my schedule with events that I need to attend. My
Key Notes’
column, “Pulsations” focuses on emerging artists and bands. Shelby loves for me to find the hidden gems and make them shine in the spotlight.

She’s not only booked me in New York for the next few months, but Boston, Connecticut, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, DC, are on the list as well.

I pop my earbuds in, hoping to drown out the conversation coming from the two people sitting behind me. I am just about to close my eyes, when a guy takes the empty seat next to me and another in the seat across the row. Trying not to be too obvious, I glance over and find two total hotties. One has a baseball hat pulled down low to his face, and the other has brown hair that is cut short around the ears, yet longer on top, which seems to stick out as if he just ran his fingers through it. I can’t really see the one across the aisle, but the one next to me has eyes that are a piercing deep blue, and from what I can see, he definitely looks like he spends some time at the gym. His black shirt hugs him in all the right places as it stretches across his shoulders and biceps. I take a deep breath to appreciate the alluring cologne he is wearing. It’s not too strong, a clean smell that has me deeply inhaling without being too obvious. It smells familiar though, and I know I’ve smelled it before, which makes me do a double take. I don’t remember his name, but I’ve seen him before. Where though?

I turn my head away as he catches me gawking. He clears his throat, so I look out of the corner of my eye, and notice he is staring at me. I drop my chin, my cheeks flushing red. Just as I am about to turn my music on, I feel a tap on my left forearm. Glancing over, a huge grin is splashed across his face. His smile is beautiful and by the smug look on his face, he knows it, too. The guy next to him sits quietly looking at something on his phone.

“Excuse me, you look very familiar. My name is Chad Murphy. Have we met before?”

I’ve been told my face tells the whole story, I can only imagine what it looks like right now. I simply say, “Nope,” slightly popping the ‘p’ as I speak, “I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Are you sure we’ve never met because you look really familiar?”

While trying to figure out where I recognize him from, I say, “Maybe we’ve seen each other out or something. I spend a lot of time in nightclubs, bars, and music venues. Not that I’m a bar rat or a huge partier, but it comes with my job.”

At that very moment, his eyes widen as if a light bulb turned on in his head. “I know where I know you from. You interviewed my band last fall and wrote an article about us for
Key Notes.
It just took a little time for the rolodex of beautiful faces catalogued in my brain to find you.”

Chad has this smile that lights up the room, but at the same time, it’s a little devilish. He knows he is good looking and I am sure he uses it to his advantage. I remember how he flirted with me. I brushed it off. I never mix business with pleasure. That is a line that I will never cross.

My cheeks get hotter from embarrassment. Quickly trying to remember what band he’s part of, I come up empty. Not surprisingly, I meet a new band each week when I work in the field. After a while it’s hard to remember them all.

“Thank you for the compliment, you seem to be quite the charmer. Yes, I do work for
Key Notes.
My name is Camryn, but most people call me Cami. What’s the name of your band?”

“Troubled Pasts,” he says in that deep voice of his. “This here,” he points to the guy who hasn’t spoken a word since they sat down, “is Buffer. He’s the guitarist in the band.” There’s something sexy about this man. I don’t usually get frazzled easily, but something about him unnerves me.

Buffer leans forward so I can see him. His boldly handsome face smiles warmly at me. He lifts his chin, “Hey. Nice to meet you.”

His profile was rugged and somber. It didn’t do him justice until he gave me a full view of his face. Damn, he is good looking. He is attractive and unscrupulous enough to take any woman. Women must find him deliciously appealing. Those eyes. They are serenely compelling.

After boldly staring at Buffer, I direct my attention back to Chad. “Ah . . . I remember your band. You guys rocked the house that night at The Hollywood Bowl. The ambience and sound there is amazing. It’s my favorite venue.”

“So do all of the rockers hit on you while you’re checking their band out?” Chad asks.

I laugh. “Not hardly. I keep everything professional while I work. Every once in a while I
get hit on,
as you say,” making quote marks with my fingers, “But, rockers are usually on their best behavior not knowing what I’ll put in my review of their performance.”

“So I guess I’m in the minority then. Good thing you already wrote your piece on my band. I can flirt all I want with you now.” He raises his eyebrows at me, while he takes in my appearance. His eyes roam my body. They fixate on my chest. Feeling a little self-conscious at his blatant appraisal, I quickly pull the zipper up on my work-out jacket.

“Dude, are you going to bother that poor girl the entire flight?” Buffer asks.

“What? I’m not bothering her. I’m simply being friendly,” Chad says.

Buffer leans forward, giving me another look at him. His eyes are an emerald green. The shadow of his beard gives him an even more manly aura. He smiles wide, his teeth strikingly white against his tanned face. “If his friendliness begins to irritate you, I suggest you put your earbuds in now. Maybe he’ll get the hint.”

I laugh at his comment. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Just ignore him, I usually do,” Chad says jokingly.

We make small talk while we taxi to the runway for takeoff. He tells me about some of the other venues his band has played, and I tell him some of the other bands that I’ve interviewed and promoted.

Once the plane is in the air, I search my iPod until I find the playlist labeled ‘Travel’. I created the playlist of relaxing ballads sprinkled with a little funk between every couple songs. Music is my passion, there isn’t a time in my life that music didn’t play a huge role.

With my head resting on the pillow and the blanket pulled up around me, my eyes focus out the window, as the plane climbs higher into the sky. This is going to be a long flight, six hours with no layover, which is great; but with Chad sitting next to me, I can only hope that exhaustion takes over my body. I am not in the mood to talk the entire flight. I want to catch up on some much needed sleep.

The music floods my ears and eventually Boyce Avenue, one of my favorite bands, soothes me to sleep.

“
Jamie push me higher.” I yelled as he pushed me on the swing in our backyard. Morgan was on the swing next to me and Christian was pushing her. “Higher, Jamie, they can’t beat us. You can’t let Christian push Morgan higher than me.”

Laughter filled the air, as Morgan and I were shouting at the boys to push us higher. Christian was telling Morgan to use her legs to help get better momentum, I hollered at Jamie to underdog me. Jamie was pushing me and pushing me and then he pushed me so hard that he ran underneath me as I went above his head. I looked over at Morgan and Christian and screamed like every seven year old would. “WE WIN. I WENT HIGHER!”

Morgan shouted. “No fair, you cheated. You didn’t say Christian could do underdogs. That’s not fair.”

Jamie and I were laughing as my swing slowed down. Jamie said, “There were no rules, Morgan, you just said you wanted to see who could go higher.” We high fived each other, claiming another win.

Jamie and I were always partners when we played games, especially when we played games with the boys versus the girls. I hated being partners with my brother. Yuck.

Morgan jumped off her swing when it stopped. “You and Jamie always cheat. Why can’t you ever let anyone else win? It’s always you two against everyone else. Why do I always have to have Christian as my partner? Why do you always get Jamie, Camryn?”

With my hands on my hips, I looked back at her. “Because he’s my best friend, that’s why.” I think I hurt Morgan’s feelings by saying that because she shouted in our back door and asked my mom to help her cross the street so she could go home. I wasn’t being mean by saying that Jamie was my best friend. Morgan knew she was my best friend too. The four of us always played together. We were inseparable. But I always loved being Jamie’s partner. I couldn’t explain it, it just felt right.

Jamie lived next door to us, so he was always over. Morgan had moved in across the street when we started kindergarten.

My mom stood at the back door, “Is everything okay?”

Morgan put her hands on her hips. “Mrs. Townsend, Jamie and Camryn don’t play fair. Can you please help me across the street, so I can go home?”

My mom came over and squatted down and looked me in the eyes. She took her finger and placed it under my chin, “Camryn, why is Morgan saying you and Jamie don’t play fair?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“I told you before, the four of you need to get along. You need to play nice with each other. It’s not always about being the winner, Camryn. Sometimes you need to just play and have fun.”

My mom went over to Morgan. “Are you sure you want to go home?”

Morgan looked over at me with unshed tears in her eyes.

I went over to where she was standing with my mom and I threw my arms around her neck. “I’m sorry. Please don’t go home. We can go play Barbie’s.”

Morgan smiled and hugged me back and we ran off toward the tree house together, holding each other’s hands.

I feel my body being pushed, and I slowly open my eyes. Chad is smiling at me. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty.”

I wipe the sleepiness from my eyes and look around. I try to gather my unfamiliar surroundings. My brain finally decides to work and I remember that I’m flying to New York.
Please, Lord, don’t let there be drool on my face after sleeping for six hours.

The flight attendant’s voice crackles from the speakers. “We are approaching the landing, please make sure your seatbelts are buckled, all electronic devices are powered off, and your bags are placed under the seats in front of you or in the overhead compartments.” Butterflies take flight in my stomach. Not because we are landing, rather from knowing that I will get to see Jamie on a regular basis for the next few months.

We land and begin to taxi toward the terminal. I look at Chad and Buffer. “It was nice meeting the two of you again. I hope your stay is great.”

“I’m hoping it is, we’re meeting up with the rest of our band. We have a few meetings set up and we’re keeping our fingers crossed everything works out.” Chad says in his deep, sexy voice. The more I listen to him speak, the more I remember how he excited the crowd at Hollywood Bowl. His tone is so sensual and inviting, it gives me goosebumps just being near him.

“Are you going to be in New York for a while?” Chad asks while Buffer stands there quietly, his eyes studying me with a curious intensity.