She looks down in surprise like she didn’t realize what she was doing. Her hand drops and she slides out from my grasp, eyes wild and heart hammering. The door slams behind her reverberating off the walls, her rejection stinging sharp. I knew better than to play with fire, and yet I couldn’t help myself from walking right up to the flame and getting burned.
12
MELODY
The video of Chase sitting in a sea of celebrities plays on my phone. It’s from two years ago, so when he was a freshman, I surmise. It doesn’t look as if he attended with anyone, and I wonder where his parents were for such a major accomplishment. He’s dressed in a tailored suit, and while he looks younger in the video, he still has that commanding and consuming allure that I can’t seem to shake.
I can still feel the hint of his touch along my collarbone and a shiver runs down my spine. The fact is, I didn’t want him to stop and that alarms me. I should be spending my time studying, but instead Chase is consuming my thoughts. Probably doing it on purpose. Messing with my head so I flunk out of this place and then he has his precious bedroom back. That has to be why he keeps making me feel so confused.
My notebook lays beside me devoid of any notes while I watch Chase’s name get called for Best Instrumental Composition. Sure enough, Chase has the winning piece up on Spotify. Looking around before hitting play, I turn the volume up on my earbuds and feel immediately immersed in the notes. How can someone so infuriating create something so beautiful?
But as I listen, I realize his music is a lot like the man in question. It’s mysterious and yet strong. Quiet, but also demanding.
A hand envelops my shoulder, and I practically hurl myself off the chair from the shock. Looking up, I see Liam staring down at me with an amused smile splayed upon his lips.
Liam is who I should be sitting here fantasizing about. Our date is tomorrow, and here I am drooling over a music composition my stepbrother composed like a creep.
“Hey, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, chuckling at my reaction. “You’re a jumpy one, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “Sometimes.”
Covering my phone screen, I slip it into my purse not wanting him catching me mooning over Chase. Okay, mooning might be pushing it. It’s pure curiosity, plain and simple. We’re rooming together now, and our parents are married. It’s perfectly natural to wonder about the guy. Right? Right. Even with the pep talk, I don’t feel convinced.
“We still on for tomorrow?” He asks.
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it.” And that’s the truth. I’ve been working almost nonstop since I got here. I could use a fun night out with a cute boy I’m actually allowed to like.Fuck me, allowed to like?That moment with Chase earlier must have messed with my head more than I realized.
“Hey, girl. Sorry, I’m late,” Rhonda says, plopping down next to me. Her bags land on the ground with a thud, rousing a disapproving look from the campus librarian. “Liam,” she acknowledges, her tone sounding infinitesimally cooler than it did a second ago.
My eyes bounce between them both trying to discern what’s the deal between them. I’ve found coming here to Langford, I’m always trying to piece together everyone’s dynamic. They all seem so established. Thank fuck for Rhonda, because everyone else so far hasn’t been the most welcoming.
“I’ll see you later, Mel,” Liam says, leaving me with Rhonda.
“What’s going on there?” She asks, pulling out her massive Music Theory textbook.
“I’m grabbing a drink with him tomorrow.”
Her dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really?”
“Is that bad?”
“No. Well, I mean I don’t really know your type. Personally, I’d rather dig my own eyes out of their sockets than spend an evening with him, but that’s just me.”
“Huh.” I let that information settle. Liam has seemed charming, but a lot of guys can turn on a show to get what they want. I gnaw on my bottom lip, nerves coating my skin. Maybe I should cancel.
“Don’t worry about it. If it sucks, you can just text me and I’ll come cause a scene.”
I laugh, “Deal. Now. Tell me what the hell these notes mean.”
* * *
Rhonda taughtme an easy way to remember what notes go where and I find myself reciting it all the way back to the dorm. It helps to distract me from the growing dread that flips around in my stomach the closer I get. It’s grown dark out since I left, and I hurry my steps. A habit I picked up in New York. You don’t linger on the streets after the sun has set. Even back in Florida, being out in the dark freaked me out. You hear those stories about how a girl was walking home and some creep snuck up on her and then a year later you’re watching a documentary on her unsolved case while eating ice cream. Trying to figure out what happened while using the information to store away in your brain, so it doesn’t happen to you. No matter how many times I watch any unsolved documentary, I’m always upset at the end that it’s not solved, even though I know it is to begin with.
Keys in hand, I unlock the door and walk in to see Chase playing at the piano. He’s too engrossed in the music to notice me yet. It sounds like a remixed version ofFür Elise, the base notes come through clear as day, but then he takes the classic piece in a whole new direction. It’s enchanting to see his raw talent on display like this. It’s even more captivating because he’s shirtless and wearing low-slung sweats. Really low-slung.
I look away realizing that I’m checking him out and I shouldn’t be leering at him like that. The moment I’ve been trying to forget all night, comes front and center in my brain as I listen to him play. Those fingers were on my skin. And I didn’t hate it.
I should. I really, really should. But I don’t and that scares me. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I find myself watching him from the entryway again, caught in a web of notes he’s cast.
