Oliver Bishop nodded and breathed a laugh. “His works are pretty powerful.”
That was an understatement. “Yeah, they really did a number on me. EspeciallyArabesque. It’s what made me fall in love with music, and now I’m here.”
“Now you’re here,” Oliver Bishop echoed again, voice soft. His thigh was dangerously close to mine, and I swallowed around a lump forming in my throat. “What is it that you like aboutArabesquein particular?”
“I like that it’s soft.” I traced my finger along the keys as he pressed down on more. A soft tune picked up, and he took his time working through it. It wasn’t something I recognized, but it was lovely. “It’s gentle. It builds you up with it, but then doesn’t leave you hanging by yourself like so many other pieces do. You can practically taste the emotion through it, and it sounds like home. Or what home should be.”
His fingers danced across the keys as his eyes closed, and he was so polished I had trouble finding even the tiniest hint of mistakes or finger misplacements.
Because there were none.
My eyes kept bouncing between his face and hands, unable to reconcile the sight before me. I had the best view in the house, and a pang of guilt hit low in my gut that others weren’t here to hear it. But there was a touch of intimacy at being the only two people in the room. I could pretend he was playing just for me.
Time to stop that train of thought.
“I know you have no clue who I am, but it really meant something to me. So… thank you.” I lightly touched the leather sleeve covering his arm. The melody stuttered for a beat, but then recovered as if I’d just imagined it. It sounded lame as heck, but I’d been dreaming of one day saying that to this boy. I was just happy I’d had the chance. “Thank you, Oliver Bishop.”
I looked up as his fingers continued gliding across the keys. His eyes met mine, and I was blown away by how striking they were.
“You’re welcome, Emma. But you can call me Oliver, you know.”
Oliver.
I swallowed before nodding and dropping my hand from his arm. Everything about this felt like a dream. “Okay. I, uh, I will.”
He looked back at the keys, not realizing how much his friendliness meant to me. I was surprised myself with how choked up I was getting, which meant it was time for a change in subject.
“WhyPachelbel’s Canon?” I asked, referring to the piece he’d been playing when I walked in, and Oliver glanced up in surprise.
“You know it?”
I gave him a weird look. “Everyone knows it. Does this mean you’re trading in sold-out auditoriums to play weddings now?”
He chuckled, and his fingers fell from the keys. “No, no. Nothing like that.” He lifted a shoulder and looked away. “It’s lame as hell, but the song reminds me of graduation. And being on campus here reminded me I’ve never had my own.”
“You never graduated?” Not that I was surprised. With skills like his, I couldn’t see his parents putting him through traditional schooling.
“I went to a boarding school, but never got to walk,” he said before taking off the beanie and scratching the back of his head. “I shouldn’t complain, though. Most guys at my school would’ve traded graduation for a concert in Italy any day.”
I blinked at the reminder of just who I was sitting next to; a legend who’d traveled the world during the time I struggled through high school with braces and a tie-dye obsession. “Yeah, doesn’t sound like a very tough decision.”
My phone rumbled to life in my waistband, surprising the stuffing out of me. I jumped before fishing out the culprit and seeing my roommate’s name flash across the screen.
Teresa: We still meeting up for coffee? I’m at the cart.
Son of a monkey.
“I should really get going.” I slid off the piano bench not so gracefully. “You probably have way more important things to do, and I promised I’d meet up with my roomie. Either that, or I’m pretty sure I’m going to wake up from this super awesome dream any minute now.”
Oliver chuckled, and his smile stretched wide enough for two deep dimples to peek out. I didn’t recall seeing those on the magazine covers. “I promise this isn’t a dream.”
“Really?” I eyed him doubtfully. “So, you’re saying if I tried to kiss you right now, I wouldn’t wake up right before our lips touched? Instead, you’d be pushing me away and calling your bodyguards to get rid of the crazy stalker chick?”
Oliver’s jaw dropped in the most comical fashion, and I took great pride in the way his cheeks flushed.
“I…” He straightened the leather sleeve around his wrist before his stark gaze met mine. A slow, far too handsome smile appeared. “Who says I’d push you away?”
A warmth spread through my belly, but I shook it off with a laugh.
