Page 58 of Love at First Fright

“But you play guitar?” I pressed. “You know, in the attic…?”

The warmth drained from his face.

“I used to play a lot.” His voice went flat.

I wanted to ask more. Wanted to know everything—why he’d stopped, what songs he loved, whether he wrote his own music. But Charlie turned away, busying himself with cleaning the surface. His shoulders drew up tight, a wall slamming down between us.

No. Don’t leave me.

“Do you listen to music?” I blurt out.

He gave me an odd look. “Sure. Of course I do.”

“What sort?” I asked, then waved Brad’s hand. “Hold on, don’t tell me.”

I pretended to study him. Leaned back against the counter, tilting Brad’s head like I was some kind of expert.

Truthfully, I’d found it difficult to keep up with modern music. Workmen had the radio on all day, so I wasn’t completely clueless. But the stuff they played—commercial drivel, mostly. Nothing with any soul.

“Taylor Swift!” I declared.

Charlie’s eyes widened, and I sniggered. This was fun. “Or her boyfriend, Harry Styles.”

“Umm…” Charlie set his mug down. “I hate to break it to you, but they broke up over a decade ago.”

A decade?! I could have sworn it was only a couple of months ago I heard the radio going on about it—some breakfast show host gasping over paparazzi photos.

“Right, right. Obviously.”

“I am secretly partial to a bit of Taylor, though,” he said. “On occasion. Lily adores some of her songs.”

I snapped Brad’s fingers. “How about Ed Sheeran?”

Charlie’s mouth twitched. Almost a smile.

“Coldplay?”

“Stop.”

“One Direction?”

“They broke up too.”

“Maroon Five?”

A laugh burst out of him. Full and bright and utterly gorgeous. His whole face transformed—eyes crinkling, dimples appearing in his cheeks, head thrown back.

My heart skipped. Actually skipped. God, I’d forgotten what that felt like. That painful lurch, like missing a step in the dark.

“Stop, stop, stop.” Charlie wiped his eyes, still grinning. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Go on, then. Put me out of my misery.”

He shifted his weight. “I’m into post-punk, mostly. The classics, like Joy Division, Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees. Some newer stuff too—Idles, Shame, Fontaines D.C.”

My pulse quickened as a shower of electric tingles rushed through me. “That’s brilliant.”

Charlie blinked. “You think so?”