“Not really. I wasn’t ready. But the day I met you, I wrote lyrics. For the first time in months. Your presence woke something in me. I was scared I’d ruin it by revealing who I am and burst the bubble of our new friendship. But building one on a lie wasn’t fair either.”
“Thank you. For telling me this. All of it.” I opened my arms in invitation and he straddled my lap, burying his face in my neck.
I stroked his back, analyzing everything I’d just learned about him. His mysterious and broody demeanor was not an act, it was a cumulation of the demons and experiences he carried with him.
Rick hugged me tighter, resting his head against my shoulder. I sat there with him, reveling in the warmth of his body as it pressed close to mine, feeling his chest slowly rise and fall with each breath he took. We stayed that way for the longest time. It was hard to let him go, but eventually I had to leave. It had been an intense day and we really needed space to process it all.
“Thank you for today.” I kissed Rick’s cheek and left him standing at his open door, looking at me as if it was the last time.
It wouldn’t be. I only had a few precious weeks left in Miami, but I’d use them well. If this was all the time I’d have with Rick, I’d make sure every moment counted.
Chapter Seven
Rick
LyingtoNerhadbeen eating me alive and the relief after telling him the truth had been insane.
Two weeks passed on texting, me visiting the cafe, and Ner stopping by my place to jam. The tentative distance between us dissipated with time and Ner’s assurances that he understood why I thought I had to lie.
I continued punishing my muscles at the gym, working out every day while thinking of music. Until recently, tiring my body to the point of exhaustion had been the only way for me to fall asleep, but my sleeping pattern had gotten a lot better since Ner and his musical prowess entered my life.
A few days ago we’d jammed, with Ner on the drums. I’d watched him as he’d stretched his neck, twirled the drumsticks in his tentacles and between his fingers, meeting my gaze with an intensity that took my breath away.
The pure passion and joy that had swam through him was palpable. I could barely take my eyes off him as he played—his body relaxed but ready, his shoulders loose with his back straight, and the tiny smile that lit his entire face.
Fuck, how I wanted to kiss him all the damn time. His eyelids, brows, cheeks, those fucking dimples, and most of all, taste his lips again.
Ner’s magic extended to the drums. I’d heard it as well as felt it in my chest. His rhythm moved me so much my hands had played the guitar by themselves.
Swimming with the Sharkshad played gigs with two sets of drums and drummers at the same time—as some of our songs benefitted from that kind of kick. But what Ner was doing was different. There was one brain and one person behind the limbs in action, and that sync added incredible smoothness to the roughness that was playing drums.
Tonight, he was finishing work late, so I hauled my acoustic on my back and waited for him outside of the restaurant. Since we’d met, Ner had introduced me to many European rock bands I hadn’t known existed, and we agreed which movie we’d watch apart so we could discuss them when we met. He greeted me with a peck on the cheek that sent tingles down my legs. We walked and talked for hours until most of the city was asleep.
We had no plans, but Ner steered us towards the beach, taking the same path I had the day I’d seen him swim in the ocean.
“Have you brought the guitar for a reason?” He asked as we sat on the sand.
“Yes, to serenade you.” I smirked, and the smile I received in return was a reward for being silly around him. I took the guitar out and played the song he’d inspired the first day we’d met but I only hummed the melody of the lyrics, not wanting him to hear them yet.
My heart pounded when I finished.
“I love it. Is it new?” Ner asked.
“Yeah.”
His upper tentacles danced in the air as if wanting to play as well. Eventually, one wound around my waist. His touchy affection gave me wings every time we were in public like this. It was nearly dark on the beach, the lamps from the street behind only barely reaching us.
“You never told me what got you into playing.” I leaned into him, reveling in the warmth of his body as I watched the ocean waves ahead.
“We visited my mom’s cousin when I was about eight.” The fond smile was clear in his voice. “Uncle Robert had a few guitars in his house, some on walls, and others just standing there for anyone to pick up and play. That vacation we went camping with him and his husband and, every night, he played songs by the bonfire and everyone joined in. I spent the next week of the trip bugging him to teach me the basics. He did, and that Christmas he sent me a classical guitar and a book with rock chords to learn on my own. He even marked his favorite songs.”
“That’s nice of him. Is he a musician?”
“No, he’s an activist and a firm supporter of following dreams. I always envied his ease of playing because he’s a leshy, a tree-shifter, and can toughen his fingers into wood. Once I figured out the basics of a guitar, I bought a keyboard from my allowance. I signed up to a local music center but—” He flopped his other tentacle on his lap. “Beings like me… Some people are still not used to seeing us do regular human stuff. Sure, a tentacled monster can have a seafood place, a leshy can lead a deforestation protest, but I wanted to be a musician.”
“You’re playing all the time.” Was it insensitive of me to want to scream for him to fuck his family’s restaurant and pursue music? Would it be selfish to ask him to play with me?
Ner shrugged and toed off his shoes. “Come on, let’s listen to the waves.”
