I flushed as I put it on, remembering the previous time I’d used it. I started up again, trying to keep my arms loose and swinging my hips along with the beat, but I was so focused on moving that I missed notes and got all messed up and had to stop playing. Or maybe I was still flustered from Jared’s hands on me.

Kyle squinted. “Well, that was terrible. You looked like you were in pain or something. This time try not to look like you’ve been set on fire and are trying to put it out.”

I sighed and played the opening again, moving less and forcing myself to smile, but Kyle shook his head. “Nope. You look like a creepy doll with that grin.”

“Ugh!” I flopped onto one of the beds, dropping the guitar next to me. “This is hopeless. I’m never going to be any good at this.”

“We have to find something that works for you and doesn’t make you look psychotic or like you’re dying. Maybe—” Kyle stopped and fished his phone out of his pocket. “Shit, Alexis is here early. I’ve got to run. Sorry. We’ll continue this tomorrow, okay?”

After his brother left, Jared sat on the edge of the bed near me. “Kyle’s only trying to help you.”

“I know. I just suck. I’m going to ruin everything for us.” I threw my arm over my face. This bed was comfortable. Maybe I could just lie here forever, and then I’d never have to perform again. A perfect solution to this problem.

“You don’t suck.” He jumped up and grabbed his guitar again. “C’mon, maybe I can help. Kyle spends all his time on stage behind a keyboard anyway.”

I sat up to watch him. I was willing to try anything at this point, and let’s be honest, I always enjoyed seeing Jared perform.

“For me, the trick is to feel the music and move along with it. Tap your foot, nod your head, whatever feels natural.” He started the opening again and leaned back, stretching his long body as he played. I stared at the spot where his stubble trailed off on his neck, yearning to press my mouth there. I imagined the way it would feel to slide my fingers under his shirt and across his toned stomach. I wanted to see that tattoo on his chest again.

He stopped and frowned at me. “What?”

What was wrong with me? I dropped my gaze and grabbed my own guitar. “Nothing.”