Ryder breaks the silence. “So, being highly sensitive means you cry when you listen to music?”
“Oh, yeah. When I’m in public, I usually hold back because I worry I’ll get teased.” I hold an accusing finger at him. “But you were supposed to have your eyes closed.”
He laughs. “Honestly? I was worried you’d laugh at me for getting into the music myself.”
Hope flutters in my chest. “Oh, really? You liked it?”
“It’s not so much liking it as…an involuntary reaction?” He rubs his chest, then thumps his hand on his heart. “I felt it here. My breathing changed, and my chest got tight, and—” He cuts himself off, rolling his eyes. “I sound so lame.”
Uh, no. This is literally the opposite of lame. This is probably the hottest thing a man has ever said to me.
Ryder didn’t just sit and begrudgingly listen to my favorite piece of music with me. That’s what my brothers do. They’ll humor me, especially now that I’ve been isolated for so long. I’ll try to share a piece of music I’ve enjoyed recently, and I get a lot of “Yes, that’s very nice, Lily,” but nothing that shows me theygetthe music the way I do.
Not that I’ve made them lie down on the ground with me. I don’t know what possessed me to include Ryder in that ritual, but right now I’m so glad I did.
Beyond my family’s inability to share my passion for music, I don’t think I’ve allowedmyselfto get fully immersed, lost in the music, when I’m around them.
Then, besides my brothers, there was Tristan, my one and only romantic partner. You’d think I would’ve shared my favorite piece of music and the way I feel about it with the man I nearly married. But our relationship was all abouthim. What movies he was doing, where he was going, and then he’d lavishly compliment me—my looks, my sweetness, my…well, that’s about it.
But this? This moment Ryder and I just shared? I’ve never experienced anything like this with someone else.
“Not lame,” I say. “Because that’s what happens to me, too.”
“I guess classical music isn’t so bad after all,” he says with a grin.
I clap my hand to my heart, feigning offense. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. Classical music is, like, an integral part of my life.”
“Integral, huh? That’s a pretty big word.”
“I’ll have you know, I aced business calculus. And integration was a very…important part of that.”
His brows rise. “Impressive.”
“My brother was a good tutor.”
“Which one? Henry?”
I nod. “He’d come over and prep me for my exams. That’s when I helped him get together with Luna. We even came out here to the Harvest Festival with Aunt Agatha. There was a pumpkin carriage, and a goat ate her shoe…” I drift off and wave a hand around. “It’s a long story.”
“Sounds like it.” He raises a brow. “So, were you like a matchmaker?”
“Oh, yeah. There’s no way Henry would’ve made a move if it weren’t for me.” I sigh dramatically. “But alas, now I’m stuck here, with only my music and aunt for company.”
“And me,” Ryder says.
I feel the smile grow on my face. “And you.”
He holds my gaze for another moment, and my heart beats a little faster.
No. Bad Lily. He’s just here as a friend, checking in on his best friend’s little sister. Stop it.
“So, what’s the worst part about being here?” he asks.
“Easy. No piano,” I reply, the answer automatic.
“Really? It’s not that you can’t go to parties or book club with Aunt Agatha?”
I smirk. “Really. In a weird way, I’ve gotten used to being alone.” I gesture at him. “Relatively alone, I guess. And I’ve kind of always been like that. Most of the time, I’d rather stay home playing the piano or reading a book instead of going out to parties.”
