Track 25 - Lightning Striking Again

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Morning classes seemed to drag on and on. Lainey checked the time on her phone a dozen times, willing time to pass so she could get back to the Beatle in her bedroom.

He was on her couch, barefoot in his jeans and dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a yellow mechanical pencil tucked behind his ear, looking serenely self-possesed as he hunched over her restrung Gibson acoustic. The television was on, playing music videos with the sound off.

Lainey's backpack was beside him on the floor, and a school notebook was open on the table in front of him.

He stopped playing and looked up at her, his face softening. "You're beautiful."

Looking down at that peaceful, expressive face, the open way he was looking at her, Lainey found it hard to believe he could ever tell a lie. Her body tingled with warmth from his gaze. "Thank you," she said softly, a little embarrassed. She searched for a change of subject, but he beat her to it.

He strummed the guitar and began to sing, letting each word linger in the exquisite tone of his voice.

"It's a risk but you make it worth taking

This time I'm not letting go

Don't tell me it's over, just hold me closer

Come back and kiss me hello"

Then he shot her his sexy smile.

My god, would she ever get used to it? Her knees started to buckle. She lowered herself to the couch, dropping a pile of clothes between them.

Paul put down the guitar. "How was your day, gorgeous?"

"It was good. We've been making suit jacket patterns. I stopped by the house and picked up some of Matt's clothes that he didn't take to England."

Paul held up a dark green T-shirt with a logo of mountain peaks that read "SAY YES TO ADVENTURE."

"I never say no to adventure."

Lainey handed him a pair of soft grey cutoff sweatpants with a tiny Nike swoosh on the hip. "It's humid out today, I thought you'd want some shorts. And flip flops."

He wrinkled his nose. "Flip flops?"

"I didn't have a lot to choose from."

"You mean rubber thongs. Thanks, love."

"And...I have some time before work if you want to check out the music room."

"Abso-bloody-lutely."

Paul leaned over to place a kiss on Lainey's cheek, his forearm accidentally brushing across her breast. His arm stayed put while he made exaggerated kissing noises from her cheek to her ear. She closed her eyes and inhaled his warm, woodsy scent. He smelled delicious. She was a few seconds away from wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down with her onto the pile of University of Richmond T-shirts, when he straightened, gave her a wink, and went whistling away toward the bathroom with her brother's clothes.

Lainey slumped back against the couch cushions, one hand spread over her racing heart. That man.

Her gaze fell to the open school notebook on the coffee table. It looked like Paul had been working on a song when she walked in. On the left side were guitar notations and instructions: 'D7 open,' 'C then strum twice,' 'Capo the 3rd fret?' followed by scribbled lyrics that filled the two pages. At the top of the page Paul had written 'Lainey Love.'

Lainey scanned the words, trying to make sense of the arrows indicating chorus and verse, squinting as she tried to make out lines that he'd crossed out and scribbled over.

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