They both are, in different ways.
They both help me feel grounded while I’m fighting the worry I’m constantly having about whoever may or may not be watching me.
“Go back to sleep,” Grayson murmurs, and I look over at him, but his eyes are still closed. It’s like he can sense my unease. He always could. He could find my eyes in a crowded room, and I knew it would be okay. When I first started performing, he would be there smiling at me.
Yet I’m keeping something from him. I haven’t wanted to tell him about what’s been going on because that would make it real. The only reason Asher knows is because the box was here when he was with me. If that never happened I wouldn’t have told him either.
I sink down, Grayson enveloping me in his hold even more, and I chuckle. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
A sleepy smile appears on his face. “You seem to like that, though.”
I’m thankful for the dark to hide the blush on my cheeks.Yeah I do.
“Go to sleep,” he says again, his voice lower, and I’m sure he’s drifting back to sleep but I’m not tired. I really should be, my body was pushed to the absolute limit, but I feel wired. My hands are itching to play the melody ringing in my head that’s just appeared looking at the two of them.
Grayson’s breathing evens out, and I glance at Asher who still hasn’t moved and decide to slip out of the bed to get some of the creative buzz out of my system so I can sleep.
Carefully, I manage to get out of Grayson’s hold and movedown to the foot of the bed, hoping neither of them notice. When my feet land on the cool floor I silently celebrate, turning back to the bed to make sure they’re undisturbed.
I smile as I see them both lying there, so peaceful, so handsome. Somine.They’re both shirtless, in just their boxers —I don’t know what I did to get this lucky. Reaching down, I pick up the first shirt I find, and when I slip it on I think it’s Asher’s. It falls to my mid-thigh and I don’t bother putting on anything else.
I’m practically dancing as I make my way downstairs after shutting the bedroom door to try and muffle the sound of music I’m going to be playing. The guitar is a little quieter, but when I feel like this I really prefer the piano. There’s something about feeling the keys under my fingers. The way the music sounds and flows through my limbs. It’s what I need.
My feet slap quietly against the hardwood floor and I don’t like the silence, I never have. I need noise, music, talking, something. I turn the corner heading toward my piano and my eye catches on something outside one of the windows.
I freeze, narrowing my eyes, but I swear there’s a figure in the distance. Just standing there. I feel eyes on me and I rush over to the window to get a better look. It’s so dark, it’s hard to tell, but the figure is completely still. I quickly close the blinds to block their view of me while peeking through the tiny crack to watch for any movement.
Nothing happens and I back away. I must be losing it, or hallucinating. Maybe it’s just a tree. I’m just being paranoid; no one can get on my property without my security knowing about it. I shake out my hands, trying to shake away the anxiety as I sit at the piano.
Running my fingers over the keys a couple times, acquainting myself with the feel of them as I try to control my breathing and bring back the music that’s been playing in my head. Closing my eyes, I start to feel it. The buzzing under myskin drawing me to the keys again. I start to play. This melody isn’t as light as the one I felt looking at the two sleeping men in my bed. The fear from what I saw is infiltrating my mind causing the notes to be deeper, more haunting. Some chords remain upbeat; it’s the juxtaposition of how I’m constantly feeling lately.
Happy, free, light, learning who I really am.
While also being scared, anxious, and worried.
It’s all me.
I don’t have any lyrics coming to me right now. Just the music. And maybe it won’t turn into a song anyway. It just feels good to let the notes flow, not thinking, only feeling.
I don’t know how long I’m lost in it when I feel warmth behind me. This time when I notice the eyes on me, it’s not threatening. It’s calming, but he doesn’t touch me. I continue to play, his presence behind me, changing the song, altering it to how I feel when he’s near.
Desired. Controlled. Calm.
He leans forward, his woodsy smell mixed with sex fills my nose and I breathe him in.
“I like this.” Asher’s deep voice adds to the feelings the sounds fill me with. “You playing the music while wearing my shirt.”
“Do you want to know if I’m wearing anything underneath?” I taunt.
“Don’t need to. I already know.”
I clench my thighs together, feeling the need building there despite being sore.
Asher sits on the bench next to me, his back to the piano so he can look at me. “What was that one?”
“Nothing particular. Sometimes I just play notes. Sometimes they sound good, sometimes they don’t.”
He studies me, the corner of his mouth quirked up. His hair has gotten longer than when I first saw him in Vegas. My eyestrail over his body, the honed muscles don’t seem to have any decrease in mass from his injury. I know he’s still been working out, but he truly looks like a work of art.
