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Me? I talk incessantly. When I run out of small talk, I tend to overshare. I’m always embarrassed by it, though. Like Mr. Pencil Tapper said, my life is way too boring. But right now, I’m not talking. I’m listening to the music, the laughter of the party and dancing with the most surprising man I’ve ever met.Yeah, you keep surprising me, too, Tarzan.
A half a pound of smoked pork, two ears of sweet corn on the cob — absolutely dripping in butter — three of Tori’s frozen cocktails, four dances and two pieces of cake later, the party finally starts to break up a little after 1 a.m.Climaxfinished their second set more than two hours ago. The crew busily dismantles the stage while guests linger a little while at the bar. A little after two o’clock, Connor leads the last of his friends out to their rideshares and finds me coming out of a dark hallway from where I luckily managed to find a much-needed powder room.
“You throw a hell of a party,” I say sincerely.
“It was a great night.” Connor stalks toward me. Right now, he’s the lion.
“Well, anytime you have good food, an open bar andClimaxplaying live — you’ve got all the makings for a wonderful night.”
“It was wonderful because you were here.” His eyes soften a bit when he says that. I blink and the softness seems to fade somewhat. Too many margaritas, I suppose.
“Stay with me tonight,” he says. Once again, I know he’s asking me even though his words and his tone would indicate it’s more of a command. I don’t know him well. But I don’t think he’s the kind of person who would command me to do anything. And my Inner Sex Goddess never complains that he “asks” me the way he does. She’s already calculating how many kisses it will take to let him have sex with me, but I’m less certain. I think it’s much too soon to sleep with Tarzan.
“Connor, I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to …”
“No sex,” he says suddenly. I know by the way he says it, he means it. “Just sleep beside me in my bed. I swear I won’t try anything.”
My brow creases with skepticism. “You want me to stay, but you don’t want sex?”
He nods and I’m not sure why, but I completely believe him. He has this look on his face that reminds me of a little boy who is scared of the dark. I can’t quite explain it, but I think Connor needs me to stay with him tonight even more than he wants me to be here.
“I don’t have any of my things, and it’s too late for me to go home and …”
“You can sleep in my T-shirt again, and I’ve got plenty of extra toothbrushes. Please.”
This is the third time he’s said please and I swear, I’ll never get tired of hearing this man, who looks like a brute and has a ravenous, blue-eyed lion tattooed on his back, utter the word “please”.
I give him a smile, and, much to my Inner Sex Goddess’ delight, I agree to stay. The part of me who prays is on her knees asking the Ruler of the Universe that this not be the biggest mistake I ever make. All those serial killer shows, you know.
We go back outside to find Tori and Ox seated around a firepit. Ox has an acoustic guitar on his lap, picking out a song and singing to his wife. My heart clutches with a little pang of jealousy over what they have. They’re soul mates, true loves. And you know just by looking at the way they steal glances and the fact he still smacks her on the ass when she walks by, they’ll be together forever.
“Hey, Lainey, Connor tells me you’re a musician. Cellist, right?” Ox confirms. He kicks a chair toward me with his foot. I suppose it’s his way of inviting me to join them.
I nod. “A long time ago.”
“She played for me a couple of days ago, and it was beautiful,” Connor offers.
“Play anything else besides the cello?” Ox is plucking out the melody of one ofClimax’s most popular love songs.
“I dabbled with the violin, but it affected my cello playing, so I had to put it down. I do know five or six chords on the guitar.” I nod to his instrument, a bit shocked at how brazen I am to volunteer this information. I know he’s going to ask me to play, and for the first time in a very long while, I’m not hiding from the opportunity. I actually want it. The Maestro inside me is already thumbing through my limited repertoire.
Ox hands me his guitar and slides out of his chair to retrieve another.
I feel the wood, already warm from his grip, melt into my palms. I pick a few strings. The sound is amazing. Without thinking, I began to pluck out the first few notes of an old Beatles’ tune calledBlackbird. It was a pretty difficult song for a beginner, but it was the first one I learned. My father has always loved this song. I must have played it for him a thousand times. No matter how long it’s been since I’ve played it, my fingers always remember how to pluck out this song.
By the time I’ve gotten halfway through the long introduction, I’m improvising and Ox is playing an accompaniment part. At the start of the first verse, Connor, Ox and I all start singing. We all naturally seem to know how to split the parts. Connor takes the lead. He has a gorgeous tenor voice that makes my skin tingle. I sing harmony and Ox chimes in with a bass line that gives the whole piece a strange harmony that is hauntingly beautiful.
The notes wrap around me, and for three minutes I am gone. I am here fully, but I’m also inside myself and a thousand miles away at the same time. It’s the power music has always had on me. It will always have on me.
When we finish, I open my eyes. I didn’t realize I’d closed them. I usually do when I play. It helps me concentrate. I look up beaming. Ox, Tori and Connor are staring. Ox’s mouth is actually hanging open.
“Blow me blind, woman,” he says, breaking the spell of silence. I’m thankful he did. The single heartbeat of quiet was almost too much. Judgement threatening to fill the vacuum of sound. “You’re incredible.”
I shake my head and try to hand the guitar back to him. “I’m terribly rusty.”
“Shit, if that’s rusty, you could have been a professional.”
“I was. Sort of.” I hear myself say it, and I instantly regret it. I was always proud of my achievement, but with the way my short career ended, I don’t like to bring it up. Everyone always wants to know why I don’t play anymore. And that story is one I don’t care to share.
