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She leaned down, dug out Eddie’s sticks from where he normally tucked them out of sight and settled on the stool behind the drum set.
She closed her eyes, took a few seconds to absorb the music coming from the speakers, then lifted the sticks and began to play along. She wasn’t nearly as good as Eddie but she loved playing the drums.
When the song ended, her eyes were still closed as the next one began. She had picked these songs for a reason. They were songs she could play the drums to without much effort. She’d never pick a song from a band like Rush because some drummers, like Neil Peart, would make her skills sound worse than amateurish.
But tonight, it didn’t matter since she was playing strictly for pleasure. No pressure. No one to impress. It was simply for her.
To take her into her own little world, the one she lived for. Music.
Without it, she was nothing.
With it, each song gave her what she needed. A sense of peace, the warmth of love and a slice of happiness. Even if only until the last note faded away.
When the current song finished, she licked her dry lips. She should’ve brought a bottle of water on stage with her.
She opened her eyes and quickly blinked in surprise.
She followed the hand holding a sweating water bottle up to the person who was offering it.
Was she imagining him? She thought about water and he just appeared with what she desired?
She blanked out her thoughts just in case he could read them.
She collected both drum sticks in one hand and took the already opened bottle from him. “Thank you.”
“Mean what you say.” His voice reminded her of the music she loved so much.
The timbre, the cadence, the pitch. The way it swirled around her almost like a warm hug.
“I meant it. I appreciate it. Just like I appreciate everything else you’ve done for us.”
“You don’t gotta play tonight.”
She lifted her eyes to meet his dark ones. “I’m not playing for anyone but myself.”
He stared at her for far too long, then finally gave a single nod. “Let me know if you need anythin’ else.”
As he turned, she said, “I do.”
He stopped, facing away from her, and waited.
“I was hoping…”
After a few seconds, he turned to face her again. “Hopin’?”
“To use your shower again.”
Again, he stared at her. For the first time ever, she wished she could read a man’s mind. Especially since his face was unreadable.
She knew she was pushing his generosity by asking. But with the low propane tank, they didn’t have enough for long showers. Hell, not even enough for short ones.
If he allowed her to use his again, that would mean the guys could probably squeak out enough hot water for theirs.
After filling the fuel tank once they got paid tomorrow night, the propane tank would be next on the list. Twenty dollars in diesel had hardly moved the needle.
“Once you’re done playin’ and you’re ready, come see me. I’ll be behind the bar.”
“Nothin’ behind the bar’s off limits.”
He began to turn away again but paused, his brow wrinkling. He drove his hand deep into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a fistful of what looked like quarters. “Put out your hands.”
It wasn’t a request, but an order.
Did he normally carry around that many quarters? Odd.
She tucked the sticks between her thighs and extended her cupped hands. He dropped the quarters into them.
When he was done, he curled her fingers around the change and said in a low voice, “Keep playin’.”
Holy shit.
The touch of their hands made a weird energy prickle along her skin.
She tensed to avoid the shiver that threatened to slide down her spine and perk her nipples. It must not have worked since his graze dropped to her chest.
“Nice T-shirt,” was the last thing he said over his shoulder as he headed back to his job and she rose to go put more quarters in the jukebox.
She had picked the shirt because it was clean, not because of what was printed on the front. The black tee had a huge white graphic of a hand giving the finger.
She pressed her lips together at the statement her shirt made loud and clear. Then she used every damn quarter he gave her and played Eddie’s drums until she no longer had energy left to play.
While she did so, she didn’t hide her smile.
She also didn’t give a shit who saw it.
“You see her come back down yet?” Dodge asked Micah an hour after Syn had finished playing the drums.
When she had approached him ready to use his shower, her hair had been damp from sweat. Her cheeks flushed from exertion. Her eyes held a spark that caught and held his attention.
Even though she looked exhausted from how intensely she played for almost two hours straight, her body still vibrated. Almost as if she herself had been plugged into an amplifier.
