AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His one hand moves in soothing circles on my back while he holds me tight with the other.
I sag against him. God, it feels good to be in his arms again. It’s only been a week, but even a day away from this man seems too long.
“How much have you played today?” he asks, gently cupping the back of my head.
“Only one hour,” I say, pressing myself closer. This man radiates heat like sun-kissed granite, and I want to stay here all day, basking in his warmth and soaking up the gentle touch of his hand.
“I hope you have enough energy left for some more. I’ve brought a new piece.”
“Definitely,” I agree. I love playing with Grigory at my side, guiding me with his steady command and sometimes his baton. But I’m not ready to lose this intimacy, so I curl my hands around the shirt under his suit jacket.
I’m still tired after the arduous days of following Markus’s schedule. Three days of reading like any normal student shouldn’t drain me. I wonder if some of the emotional exhaustion of the summer still lingers. Or maybe it’s that I’m just not cut out for this master’s degree.
Only two years left.I let out a defeated sigh. There’s nothingonlyabout two years of this.
“Are you sure?” Grigory asks. “Maybe you should take a nap first? I’ll sit with you in bed.”
It sounds tempting, but so does a new piano piece. “That’s not it.”
“What is it then?” Grigory leans back and curls his large hand around my jaw as he studies me.
“It’s just…” I try to look away, but with my chin trapped in his hand, there’s not much else to look at, and my eyes end up back on his. “I think you’re right. This master’s degree is not the right thing for me,” I confess.
It seems wrong to have this conversation with Grigory before I’ve told Markus how I feel. But somehow, it’s easier. Markus and I spent so much time talking it over in the spring, and telling him I want to back out after all the deliberation and finally the determination would be a major defeat.
Grigory’s hand moves up to curve around my cheek. “We’ll figure this out,” he promises as his thumb moves in slow strokes across my skin, soothing me into the lull of his control, making me believe everything will work out—because how can it not when those assertive eyes promise it will.
My head falls back a little as I stare into the mesmerizing depths of his brown eyes. The ground could quake beneath me, the wind could blow with horrific speed, and I wouldn’t bat an eye as long as I was safe under Grigory’s watchful gaze.
He leans in a smidgen, locking me to him in a charged moment of pounding hearts and sizzling emotion. His eyes fall to my lips, and I think he’s going to kiss me. For a long moment, they linger there, and my breath speeds in and out through my mouth, nervous yet eager.
Thisis it. This time he’ll do it. I’m sure of it. He just needed time to get there.
But the building anticipation drops like a rock when he leans down and presses his lips to my forehead instead.
I stand dumbfounded in the middle of the hall as he brings his suitcase into the main room behind me, the scratch of a long zipper filling the space.
“Come,” he says, and I snap out of the disappointment and go to him.
He just needs more time.
Grigory holds out one of those tall blue books of sheet music for me.J.S. Bach,it says.
I frown at the book as I take it. “Bach? You know I hate Bach.”
Grigory arches an amused brow. “We need to work on your repertoire.”
“Why? I’m fine sticking to the romantics. And Debussy.”
“And you sure do it well.” His warm smile makes my stomach flutter. I love when he compliments my playing. “But if you’re serious about the piano, you need to broaden your horizons.”
I shrug. “I am serious, but it’s not like I’m going to be a concert pianist or go to the conservatory or anything, so I don’t see the point.”
Grigory doesn’t reply. He just brings a chair to the piano and sits like when he’s teaching me, then sets the sheet music on the stand and crosses his arms, waiting.
This man... He doesn’t even say where he wants me, just expects me to figure it out. And well, it isn’t hard, and despite the lack of verbal command, the order hangs potently in the air, impossible to refuse.
So I go to sit on the bench beside him, and for the next few hours, Grigory leads me into the world of Bach in his usual patient yet demanding manner. I get a short break halfway through, but when he finally lets me go for the day, I’m depleted. But also happy. The piece is difficult but beautiful. It speaks to me much more than any other Bach piece ever has, and I wonder if Grigory knew that this very piece would spark my interest.
