“You done with that pizza?” Ezreal asked. “I’d like you to show me how you play, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” Ryan swallowed. He hurried to the sink to wash his hands. Ezreal did the same thing and said something that made the boy laugh.
Sara was finding herself more and more intrigued. How could someone trip over words so badly when he’d first talked to her yet speak so eloquently with anyone else? She followed them into the living room where the guys sat side-by-side on her piano bench while she watched. Ezreal flipped through Ryan’s book of music.
“How about this one?” Ezreal asked, and the boy shrugged, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“This really intimidates me,” Ryan mumbled.
“Playing for me?” Ezreal gave a soft chuckle. “Don’t let it. I’m nothing special.”
“But you do the music for REKD.”
“I happened to be roommates with one of the other founders who reallyisgifted. I just kind of fell into it.” Ezreal gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out that none of it was real.”
“Is that why you don’t take being one of the Billionaire Boys very seriously?” Sara asked.
Ezreal glanced over his shoulder at her, seeming surprised to find her there. Was she that forgettable? Or was he the absentminded professor type?
“I guess. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
Ryan shot him a surprised glance and then looked away.
“You start out the song,” Ezreal said.
The boy’s hands trembled, and he made a few mistakes at first, but the man beside him nodded approvingly, and Ryan’s playing improved.
“Right now, don’t stop and redo when you make a mistake,” Ezreal said. “Just plow on.” A few measures later, he joined in and Ryan stopped. Ezreal said, “No, keep going. You lead the way, and I’ll follow.” He played along with the written piece.
“Well done,” he said when they’d finished. “Now I know your rhythm, let’s do it again. And we’ll have some fun with it.”
“Fun?” Ryan asked.
“Just play and you’ll see.” Ezreal shot him a sidelong glance, a mischievous twinkle to his eyes that made Sara wonder again what he must have been like as a little boy.
Fascinated she watched as Ryan started in, this time with more confidence and a lot less self-consciousness. When Ezreal accompanied him this time, he played a descant, almost like an improvisation, but not in the jazz genre. She fumbled for her phone to record it.
Sara shifted a little so she could see Ezreal’s face. He frowned and appeared lost in thought as he played, and she had the impression that he was writing the beautiful music as he played it. Was that how he composed?
“That was dope,” Ryan cried when they’d finished.
“Yeah. Itwasexcellent.” Ezreal grinned, his head still moving as though the song continued in his mind. He rose and indicated they should change places. “Let’s do it again.”
Ryan slid across the bench, and Ezreal took his place. The man’s long, slender fingers flew across the keys, and the boy gaped for a second.
“You improv this time,” Ezreal said.
“Me!” Ryan squeaked. After a slight pause, he began the treble line again and eventually started making some alterations to the music. By the time they’d made it through the number, it had turned into a completely different song.
When they finished, the three of them exhaled, and Sara turned off the recording on her phone.
“That was amazing.” Now that she’d seen Ezreal in action with Ryan, she had no doubt about the man’s ability to work with her future students. For the first time, her program’s success seemed a possibility.
“Do you think I could ever get as good as you? I’d—” Ryan broke off at the sound of a car pulling up to the house.
Sara startled again and jumped to her feet. She moved to the window.
“It’s my mom, Mrs. Fortune, I recognize the sound of the car.” Ryan glanced at Ezreal. “She gets really anxious about strangers coming around. I wish I could practice like this all the time.”
