“That seems kinda young to be holding down a job.”
I shrug my shoulder. “You do what you have to, to survive.”
I feel his eyes on me, but I ignore it, placing my hands on the ivory keys. Pressing down, a high-pitched note fills the space around us.
“Here.” He grabs my hand in his and places my fingers right where he wants them. I try and ignore the way my skin feels like it’s on fire as he touches me. The pressure is light, but lingering. My heart rate has ticked up a few beats and I’m keenly aware of his alluring scent. It’s warm with a hint of spice lingering underneath.
Swallowing hard, I let him lead, pressing my fingers down on the keys one at a time. It creates a harmonious almost angelic sound. Then he moves my hand again, a little further down and presses down in the same sequence. Our knees knock together, and I pull back attempting to keep a respectable distance between us, though a part of me regrets it the moment I do it.
“Now, you do it on your own.”
My mind short-circuits trying to recall exactly where my hand is supposed to be because I’m still caught up in how it feels to be next him, before I find the right spot. The notes play out exactly as he showed me, and he smiles at me like he’s proud. I feel it all the way down to my toes.
I beam at him, and we stare at each other for a few heartbeats before my phone pings, breaking the spell crackling between us. The sound jolts me into the present moment, and I jump up off the bench, striding over to my purse to dig my phone out and put as much space between myself and Chase as possible. What the hell am I doing feeling all squishy inside at his proximity? I saw him earlier with that other girl and he’s been mostly an ass to me since I got here. I know his type. Plus, he’s my stepbrother. Fuck. I keep forgetting that. It feels so surreal to me. Everything in my life has changed so quickly, I’m still grappling with the whiplash.
Looking at my phone, I see that Liam has texted me, and I smile. I feel Chase’s eyes on me as I read what Liam has written to me.
Still on for Friday? P.S. Are you still carrying around your sad luggage or have you finally let go of your attachment issues to it?
Just tell me where and what time ;)
Also, the luggage has been safely retired.
A large handsnags my phone from me and glares down at the messages.
“You want to flirt? You can do that on your own time. But right now, we have work to do.”
“The fuck, Milford! Give me that back.”
I try to swipe at him, but he dodges me easily.
“You can have this back when we’ve written some music. Until then, if you want it, you’ll have to come and get it.” I watch as he slides my phone into his front pocket. My nostrils flare as he looks at me like he’s daring me to take it.
I should. I should walk right up to him, put my hand down his pants and take back my phone. I almost do, but then reason wins out and I relent.
“Fine. Let’s get back to work.”
9
CHASE
We finish the first part of the song in less than an hour, breaking for dinner. Having to include someone else in my process usually pisses me off, but working with Melody after the initial hiccups, has been surprisingly inspiring. I’ve gone from dreading this project, to being excited about it. It’s almost like being near her fires up my imagination and the music just flows.
“It needs to have more yearning in it,” she says.
“More yearning? We don’t want it to sound too sappy,” I say, stabbing my Chinese takeout box with the on campus restaurant supplied chopsticks. Lo Mein wraps around the wooden tips and I tilt my mouth open to take a bite. A rogue noodle slaps my chin as I shove the rest in. Melody watches my clumsy attempt with amusement. She doesn’t seem to suffer from the same ineptitude as I do, expertly wielding her chopsticks with each noodle and grain of rice.
“It’s not sappy. It’s a love song. Classic and yet able to tug on the heartstrings.”
She starts to hum the music and it sounds beautiful coming out of her mouth. I realize I’m sitting here staring at her like a fucking creep and busy myself by taking another stab at my food. This time managing to get most of the noodles within my grasp.
“I wonder if we can weave some violin into it. Layer the instruments together so it sounds fuller?”
“I’ll get my laptop out when we’re done eating and start to layer some instruments together to see what works,” I respond.
She glances at the microwave clock. “I have to meet Rhonda at the library in about twenty. She’s helping me catch up with everything I’ve missed.”
I ignore the deep-rooted disappointment that comes over me that she’s leaving. “Yeah, ok. Fine. I guess you’ll be needing this back, then.”
