Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
But I wasn’t opposed to it. Hopefully she wasn’t either.
I held the door open for her as we entered the building. Then I frowned as she passed me. Not at her—she looked as beautiful as usual—but at myself. I didn’t hold doors open for women… mainly because I hardly ever walked and talked with them.
As always, the surrounding sounds soothed me. A men’s choir was practicing in the small recital hall. A small woman with a huge tuba case hurried past. Two students were using an app to try to figure out if they had perfect pitch. Spoiler alert—if they needed an app to help them find out, they didn’t.
This was one of the few places where I actually felt like I belonged. And it felt even better when Mia settled on the piano bench next to me up in the practice room. We weren’t sitting close to me as I would’ve liked, since I needed my arms free to play, but my legs were spread perhaps a bit more than necessary, and our knees touched.
I pulled some sheet music out of my bag and set it in front of us, but I didn’t need it for the piece I wanted to play. As I placed my fingers on the keys, Mia nudged me with her knee. “Do I get to play a note this time?”
I grinned, remembering when she’d done that. I’d have to find some more music that would work for that kind of thing. “Next time,” I promised. “For now, you get a private concert.”
“That works.” Her eyes gleamed as she glanced over at me. But then her gaze dropped to my hands, and she looked eager for me to start. The urge to play something flashier and show off hit, but I stuck with the Bach I’d chosen.
Then I began. Mia watched as my hands flew along the keyboard. It made me think of the recital I’d participated in when I was in tenth grade, and how I was the only kid who didn’t have family or friends in the audience.
If Mia had been my friend back then, she would’ve come. She was my friend now, that’s what mattered.
Except I didn’t want to be only friends with her.
“That was amazing,” she gushed, as the last chord filled the little practice room. “But I’d still like to play a note, just one. You can have all the rest of them. How many are there?”
“Eighty-eight. I promise next time I’ll have something suitable for audience participation.”
She nodded but was still pouting in a way that was fucking adorable. Which wasn’t a word I ever used or thought, but at the moment, it suited her. But then again, so did other words like sexy, beautiful, and tempting as fuck.
A woman like that deserved more than to sit by and watch. So maybe there was a way I could make her feel involved in the music.
I turned toward her, and my breath hitched when I saw how close her face was. I hadn’t expected those soft lips to be so close to mine. Not that I objected to it.
I patted my lap. “Want a front-row seat to the concert?”
She pushed up from the bench, but I was already sliding my hand around her waist, lifting her up and over my leg, settling her on my thigh.
I kept my hands on her hips, making sure she had her balance longer than was strictly necessary. We’d barely known each other a month, and this was twice I’d pulled her onto my lap. Why couldn’t I keep my hands off this girl? My reputation as a standoffish loner was in danger of going up in smoke when I was around her.
“Close your eyes,” I whispered in her ear. “Feel the music.” She nodded, her eyes closing obediently, but she wiggled her hips on my thigh, as if finding a more comfortable position. Or as if the music wasn’t all she was focused on feeling. It sure as hell wasn’t for me.
I started playing again. Even this gorgeous woman couldn’t stop the music from taking me over, as it always did. As it always had. It had been the one thing that got me through even the lowest points in my life.
“How are you doing that?” Mia breathed, her voice almost lost in the melody.
My fingers stilled, hovering over the keyboard. “Lots of practice.”
“No, but with my head in the way, you can’t even see the music.” She laughed lightly. “I don’t think you can see anything but my hair.”
Her hair. God, it smelled good. Some sweet scent I couldn’t identify but would never forget.
“I’ve got the piece memorized.” I jerked my chin in the direction of the sheet music. “That’s not even the piece I’m playing.”
“But what about the keys? You can’t see all of them either, and you haven’t missed a note.”