“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” I turned my attention to the stage ahead of us.
Sitting to one side was a stack of chairs clearly meant for an orchestra or band. On the other side of the stage was a beautiful black grand piano. I wasn’t even that interested in instruments after a disastrous five years at failed piano lessons, but this one was gorgeous enough to make me wish I’d actually tried to learn how to play.
“Let’s go up here.” Grey grabbed my elbow and steered me toward the stage.
Eager to follow, I only hesitated because it felt like something I shouldn’t be allowed to do.
Grey let go of me once we reached the top of the stairs to the stage. Completely at ease, he strolled up to the piano and sat at its bench. I followed slowly, watching as he opened the cover to reveal shining white and black keys. They looked as if they’d been polished with how much they reflected the stage light.
He placed his fingertips on the keys with the confidence of someone who knew them well. And while they teased the keys, his touch was so light that not a single note escaped the piano.
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Will you sit with me?”
I nodded, settling on the bench beside him and looking out at the concert hall. The room felt so hostile and big from the stage.How does anyone get up the nerve to play when this place is full?I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.
“What are you thinking?” Grey asked.
An unexpected chill swept down my spine. I looked at him and realized he was watching me with that intense Grey stare that still made my stomach do weird things.
“That you probably take all your fangirls here.” I’d meant the comment to be coy, but somehow, an unintended bitterness had snuck into my voice. I winced, hoping he hadn’t noticed it.
“No,” he said, completely unbothered if he had heard any resentment. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here.”
Grey said it simply, like he normally did when dropping truths that might as well be aimed to stop my heart. A memory of Dream Grey kissing me flashed across my mind, and I did my best to shove down the intrusive thought. I didn’t need to be thinking about kissing Grey. Not when he was so close, so within reach, so taken by that girl Carina.
He narrowed his eyes as if trying to figure out what I was thinking. But after a moment, he broke eye contact with me and placed his hands back on the piano. This time, he played a note. Just a single, forlorn note that leaped from the piano’s body and seemed to take up all the space in the room. The note was soon joined by another then another, three notes repeating over and over.
As if he’d forgotten I was there, he began humming to himself. It was soft and melodic and only contained a fraction of the beauty of his singing voice. But it was entrancing all the same.
“What song is this?” I asked.
“I don’t have much of it,” Grey admitted. His hands kept playing. “A couple of lines have been stuck in my head, though.”
“Care to share?” I teased.
He gave me a pointed look, and for a moment, I thought he would refuse. But then he opened his mouth and started to sing. And as he sang, the butterflies in my stomach came to life.
“Call it what you want, baby.
As long as you’re with me,
I don’t care what people say.
Maybe it’s meant to be
Just you and me,
Or maybe it goes down in flames.”
He stopped playing, looking more embarrassed than I’d ever seen him, but all the more endearing because of it. It was like looking into a window at the person beneath the stage presence he usually draped over himself. “Sorry, it’s not finished. Obviously.”
“Don’t apologize.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “It’s catchy.” Then, because I was feeling brave: “Who’s it about?”
Grey laughed, his confidence returning. “Who says it’s about anyone?”
“Come on, you don’t have a muse?” I teased.
“Muses are everywhere,” he said.
