Grey doesn’t look at me, but a small smile tugs at his lips, acknowledging my compliment as I turn the music sheet for him. Then, amidst the notes, he speaks, his voice a low rumble, “You know your mother is wrong, right?”
“About what?” I ask, a hint of defensiveness weaving through my tone, my shoulders tensing.
“About us being here for our own gain. We’re here foryouif that wasn’t clear by now.” His gaze remains fixed on the sheets, but I sense the sincerity in his words.
Is he sincere,though?
He continues playing, choosing to let the music fill the silence that follows rather than his words.
“That’s all?” I prompt, a bit incredulous, needing more than just his presence and cryptic statements for reassurance.
“What?” He looks at me briefly, feigning confusion.
“No big apology?”
After what Misha said, I somehow expected him to follow suit.
Which is so wrong, but the words are already out.
Grey smirks, a rogue spark dancing in his eyes as his fingers never falter on the keys. “I already told you that I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but I’m not sorry I watched you.”
“You know that’s pretty arseholey,” I retort, unable to hide my annoyance, even as a part of me thrills at his boldness.
“True, but I am anarsehole, and you love me anyway,” he counters confidently, his smirk growing wider.
“I never said—” I start to protest, my cheeks flushing with heat.
“I loveyou, you know.” His declaration slips into the brief silence as the piece ends, the final note lingering in the air, heavy with meaning.
Before I can even begin to formulate a response, Grey’s hands are on my hips, pulling me onto his lap. I find myself straddling him, our eyes locked, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way.
He reaches around me, his fingers finding the keys, and begins to play “Invisible Beauty”by Frank Dang. For a moment, fear spikes through me at the choice of a non-classical piece, but it quickly melts away under the warmth of his light brown gaze.
I rest my hands on his shoulders, anchoring myself to him, then Grey leans in, his lips brushing against my nose, eliciting a giggle from me and drawing a grin from him. “This is your song for me, you know that?” he murmurs. “When Oliver was pining for you for the last two years, I thought you were boring,” he admits with a laugh. “I’ll forever deny anything I was wrong about, but God, Amelia,was I wrong about you. My life was dull before I met you. You are this incredible, once-invisible beauty that drew me in without even trying. It’s like you were a melody I didn’t know I needed to hear.”
His voice softens, and I find myself hanging on to his every word. “I hid behind a screen and watched you, yes, but I can’t hide it anymore. Yes, I’m overprotective and obsessed,possessive as fuck, and I can’t keep my hands off you. And that’s because I love you. I’ve never felt like this about anyone else before, and I won’t lose you only because you don’t understand the depth of what this is.”
The song ends, and he brings his hands up to cradle my face. I lean into his touch, my breath catching in my throat.
“This is a forever thing,” he continues. “You, me, the guys…this is forever. And I can’t wait to get back to it. So don’t make me wait too long, okay? You know I’m not patient.”
Before I can even process his words, he seals his speech with a soft, brief kiss, a mere peck on my lips that leaves me wanting more. Then, without another word, he sets me beside him on the bench again and starts up another classic piece.
I watch him for a while, but eventually, I rest my head on his shoulder, feeling the subtle movements as he plays. I intermittently change the music sheets for him, but my mind is elsewhere, whirling with thoughts.
This may be, indeed, a forever thing.
If it’s real.
While he plays, I let my fears and doubts dissolve into the melody, allowing myself to be swept up in the beauty of now—and the potential of what’s to come.
TWELVE
Assessingthe soft shade of cream that my mother deemscasual,I smooth down the front of my cashmere sweater dress and sigh as I glance at my reflection in my vanity’s mirror.
I’m starting to lose myself in this.
The dress falls just above my knees and is paired with delicate silver jewelry and nude ballet flats.
