Caught Up

Plans Working Out

A MONTH LATER

CHICAGO

DEMI'S POV

I had to stop outside the studio to take a deep breath. Ed was in there; I hadn't seen him since the first time I had seen Ling perform in Nashville. Today was a big day: he had flown me out and we were supposed to spend the day writing songs.

I was so nervous, not even going to lie.

Everyone else had things to do right now, Dani included. Apparently she had some kind of geometry test or something. It was just going to be me and Ed for several hours. Despite our near constant communication via text, I still was so intimidated by him. I just didn't know how this was going to go.

Not to mention that singing had always been a hobby, not something I was interested in doing as a career. Yet, here was Ed Sheeran, superstar and chart topper, seeking me out for a private song-writing session like I was P- Ditty or something.

I forced myself to walk forward, through the revolving door and heard myself ask for Ed at the counter. A perky young woman led me straight to a door with a window in it, through which I could see him sitting within. I smiled at her, then took another fortifying breath before I turned the knob.

It was locked. I sighed and knocked, startling Ed. He looked up suddenly from what looked to be a lyric sheet, but his surprise quickly turned to delight when he saw who was behind the door. I blushed. He was so cute! Why did he have to be so cute?

"Demi!" He exclaimed, pulling the door open and drawing me in for a bear hug. I crushed him in my arms, too; it felt so amazing. He smelled amazing. He was amazing.

"Ed! You working hard or hardly working?" There is was again: that inexplicable confidence and comfort I had felt the first time I'd met him. I loved that feeling, despite how much it confused me.

He chuckled. "Hardly working, now that you're here." He winked, and I slapped his shoulder slightly.

"All right, but we only have a few hours, and if you're planning to get a hit out of me, we're going to need every minute." I laughed, and he gave me a disparaging look, but didn't comment on my self-deprecation.

I sat down in a chair close to his and shuffled through the papers he had been staring at when I had arrived. The one on top looked promising, so I picked it up and began reading. Ed came over and picked up his guitar, plopping down in his seat again and picking a few notes out of the fret board.

"This is good," I complimented, immediately loving the lyrics. But of course, they were written by Ed, so why wouldn't I?

He smiled and said simply, "Thanks."

I finished reading and said, "Is this what you want us to write today?"

He shook his head. "No, I was just messing around before you got here. Actually, Stuart is pretty adamant that we have to write a love song." He gave me a lecherous smile, and I laughed. "I told him to bugger off, but he's probably right. Love songs make the best duets anyhow."

I nodded in agreement and pulled my notebook from my guitar case.

"Well, good, because I have a great start to a love song right here," I said, opening my book to the right page and shoving it into his hands before I lost the nerve.

He laughed. "You do seem awfully confident," he smiled, but turned his head down to read. A moment or two passed, and his expression was inscrutable. Finally, he looked back at me and asked, "Do you have a tune yet?"