Page 20 of Naz & Roz

SEVEN

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Get up, Roz, your laptop keeps chiming. It’s probably—”

“Fucking Kyle,” Roz grumbled under her breath. Then, she added louder, “Ignore it.”

“Roz, he’s not going to stop.”

Oh, she knew that. But he might. And she was totally willing to take that chance. All she needed to do was ignore him long enough, and maybe he would stop trying to get ahold of her this early. He’d already called and texted her phone until the inbox was full. She’d not answered any of those this morning, either.

A call to her laptop could work the same damn way.

She yanked the blanket higher over her head, and rolled over for extra good measure. She wanted to stay in bed, close her eyes, and go back to dreamland where her mind was filled with thoughts of a dark-haired, brown-eyed man. Naz was a far better thing to think about first thing in the morning instead of her fucking mentor who just wanted to drive her up the wall.

He’d been the one to send her here, after all. He was the one who thought spending a couple of months with her parents and away from the suffocating restraints of the school would do her some good before graduation and the big audition.

Technically, Roz already had her graduation in the bag. All her credits were in—her finals for the most important classes were written. The last ones she had to finish when she went back were add-ons, and not even important in the grand scheme of things. She took them because she needed something to fill the time between two o’clock in the afternoon, and four when she went in for three hours of practice.

“Roz, it’s chiming again, so—”

“Ugh, I’m coming,” she muttered, throwing off the blankets. Behind the door, she could hear her mother laughing quietly.

Kyle wasn’t going to stop until Roz got up, answered his call, and handled whatever he wanted for the day. She was supposed to be focusing on herself, on composing and practicing. Anything but him, the school, and everything there. This trip home was intended to clear her head, and get her in the right headspace for the audition.

Except that couldn’t happen at all because Kyle wouldn’t quit calling every single day. Usually, that’s exactly how he started her morning was by calling her. Asking questions. Too many questions, maybe. How long had she practiced the day before? Had she finished that last stanza? Corrected the intro like he wanted? Had she been able to pick up the pace near the middle of the composition, and had it maintained its strength?

All the goddamn questions.

Always about music, too.

Like Roz didn’t know what she was doing, or something. She damn well did know what she was doing, but it went even beyond that. She needed to be confident in this piece she planned on playing for the audition in Australia. How could she do that when even her mentor wouldn’t back the hell off long enough to let her enjoy what she was creating?

Just deal with him, her mind said, and get back to your happy place.

Yes, her happy place.

In bed.

Dreaming about Nazio.

Roz grabbed her blinking phone—Kyle’s name was right on the front screen showing the last texts and calls she’d missed—before she padded to the door. Swinging it open, she found her mother had already disappeared down the hallway.

She’d set her laptop up in the living room the night before to let it charge, and hope that if Kyle did call, her parents would just ignore it. She’d hoped for too much.

Rox ignored the murmurings coming from the kitchen as she headed inside the living room. Plopping down on the couch, she grabbed the laptop with one hand, and raked her fingers through her loose hair with the other to push the wild waves out of her face. She didn’t even get the chance to call Kyle back through Skype before his next call was already ringing through.

Jesus.

That man needed to relax.

Roz hit the answer button, and forced something resembling a smile onto her face. The second her blond, blue-eyed mentor that was edging closer to forty every day appeared on the screen, she said, “Morning.”

Politely, too.

How Roz managed that, she would never know.

“There you are,” Kyle said, sighing heavily. “You had me worried.”