Dangerous Melodies - Chapter 66: Chapter 66

MARISOL
I sat still for a moment, trying to stay centered, but my mind wouldn’t quiet. As I settled back into the booth, I glanced down at the lyrics again, even though I didn’t need to. My eyes scanned the lines, but my thoughts weren’t on the music anymore. They were on the warmth of Carlos’s lips on my hand, a hum that still hadn’t completely left my skin.
Was I imagining it? That electric pull? That sense that something had shifted inside me, just a degree off-center?
The way Carlos looked at me made something stir that I hadn’t let myself feel in years. It wasn’t lust. It was the way he saw me, the intensity in his gaze. He was someone with gravity. Someone who might be worth investing my time with to see where it could lead.
And maybe that’s why my breath hitched a little when I thought of tonight. Because it wasn’t just dinner. It was stepping into a space I hadn’t occupied in so long, and I wasn’t sure I still remembered how.
A laugh bubbled in my throat, nervous and quiet. I bit the inside of my cheek. This is ridiculous. I’d survived award shows and red carpets. I could survive one dinner.
Yet, I still found myself reaching for the music like a lifeline. Notes over nerves. Lyrics over longing.
I closed my eyes, willing the melody to anchor me again. And when it did, it was like slipping into water that already knew the shape of me.
When the track started, everything else fell away.
The romantic ballad wrapped around us, soft and slow, like silk drawn across skin. The studio faded. Just me, Carlos, and the pull of the melody. We sat close, our bodies angled instinctively toward each other, the sound creating a private world that shut everything else out.
Our voices wove together, verse by verse, threaded with longing. Every note tightened the space between us, each glance turning the lyrics into something else, something lived. I looked up, and his hazel eyes locked on mine, deep and unblinking. My pulse quickened. There was no missing the magnetism between us. Every shared breath, every small harmony felt like a conversation in its own right.
Carlos leaned in as if pulled by the same invisible thread. His voice, so resonant and sure, wrapped around the lyrics like a promise. His gaze didn’t stray. It didn’t need to. The tension in that narrow space between us buzzed, fragile and dangerous. If I moved an inch, our lips would touch.
I smiled, heat blooming in my cheeks as his voice softened into a near whisper. Why does this feel so right? Why does it feel like it’s more than just a song?
The last note hung in the air. We didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Just sat suspended in whatever we’d created, our faces so close I could feel the heat of his breath.
Silence blanketed the room, heavy and full. No one spoke. The studio crew didn’t move.
Then a voice, reverent and quiet. “That was… incredible. One take.”
It didn’t feel real. Not yet. My heart was still in the song, caught between his voice and mine. I didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to move, afraid the spell might break for good.
I barely heard him. The only thing I could feel was the energy crackling between me and Carlos, the hum that hadn’t left my skin.
The moment stretched until the crew finally began to stir again, the spell breaking. Carlos turned to me, his voice low, meant for no one else. “Marisol, let’s celebrate tonight. Dinner, just us?”
My heart skipped. Excitement flared, quick, and bright. I hadn’t expected that, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt fun. There’s definitely something here. “That sounds nice,” I said, my voice soft. “But it’ll have to be after nine. I have… commitments at home.”
His smile deepened, eyes glinting with interest. “After nine works perfectly. Shall we exchange numbers? I’ll pick you up.”
As we swapped contacts, I caught the way he looked at me, longer than necessary, warm and knowing. He’s definitely interested. A flutter moved through me, sharp and real. He stepped closer and pulled me gently into a hug. It should’ve felt too familiar, but it didn’t.
His lips brushed my cheek, slow and deliberate. A soft, warm press that lingered just a second longer than it needed to.
I smiled as I pulled away, my heart still racing. I could see where this goes. “See you tonight,” I said, somehow keeping my voice steady.
He left the booth, and the space shifted behind him like gravity changing course.
I turned back toward the console, still caught in that dreamy afterglow, when I felt it. A shift. A shadow. And then I saw him.
I didn’t realize we weren’t alone until Dante stepped into the booth.
He hadn’t made a sound, but his presence cut through everything. I was startled at the sudden movement, my heart lurching. The way his eyes swept the space made it feel like something had gone wrong.
“Dante?” My voice came out more uncertain than I meant. “Is everything okay?”
He didn’t answer right away. His jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff beneath his black shirt. He looked around the room like he was assessing a threat no one else saw.
“Fine,” he said, voice clipped. “Just checking in.”
I opened my mouth to ask more, but the words stuck. His eyes didn’t quite meet mine. He turned and walked out before I could stop him, the door clicking shut behind him with a sharp finality.
I stood there for a moment, blinking after him. The tension he carried was strange. Probably just him being overcautious. That’s what made him good at his job. Always scanning, always ready. Still, something about the way he’d looked at me lingered. Not enough to pin down, but enough to make me wonder.
What was that?
A flicker of doubt rose. Just for a second. I brushed it aside as I turned back to the booth, the last echo of Carlos’s parting smile still warm in my mind.
But even as I refocused, I could feel it. Dante’s absence wasn’t quiet. It was loud. Loud in all the ways that didn’t make sense yet.