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“All right, let’s get out of here.” I motioned to Devyn and she followed me out.
* * *
We got to my condo in twenty minutes with no signs of a tail. Once inside, Devyn looked around curiously.
“Oh, wow, you have an amazing view,” she said. “And a baby grand. I’ve always wanted one of these.” She sat down on the bench, gently running her hands over the keys.
“Maybe after this tour you can get one,” I said, watching as she softly played a vaguely familiar tune.
“Even if I had the money, we don’t have room. The house is small. Greatty’s owned it since the sixties.” She smiled and started to play the familiar notes of “Fur Elise.”
Her body moved sensually as she played, and I had a sudden vision of her doing this during one of our shows. We had a handful of songs that included keyboards but we didn’t play them live because it had always seemed unnecessary. Now I was rethinking that. I could play piano, and I did all the keyboards in the studio, but during a live show I preferred to be front and center, focusing on my vocals.
If Devyn was willing to do it, it would add a level of depth to our shows that we hadn’t had before.
And fuck, it was hot.
I’d thought she epitomized rock and roll playing bass, but watching her play piano was even better. Her execution and timing were perfect, the look on her face was almost ethereal, and it all boiled down to how she moved. Her body practically became one with the music, and nothing had ever turned me on so much.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
“That was beautiful,” I said as the song came to a close. “How many years of piano lessons was that?”
She laughed. “I started when I was seven and never stopped. Formal lessons ended when I was fourteen because I was better than any teachers we could find.”
“When did you start playing bass?” I sat on the bench beside her.
“About that same time. I went through a rebellious stage. I was bored with piano and flute, I never enjoyed drums, so I turned to guitar. I found it cumbersome, for some reason, but the first time I picked up a bass I knew I’d found my calling.”
“Do you still play the flute?”
“I pick it up now and then, but not very often. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to keep up with all the instruments I play.”
“You obviously still play piano.”
“You never forget your first love.”
Our eyes met, and I smiled. “I guess not.”
“What about you? When did you start playing piano?”
“Around the same time as you. I was six or seven. My mom wanted us to be well-rounded. My older brother played hockey, and it was looking like I would be athletic too, so she shifted course with me, and it worked, I guess.”
“It would have been a crying shame if you’d chosen hockey over singing,” she said. “Your voice is a gift from whatever higher power you believe in.”
“That’s what my dad used to say.”
“Used to?”
“He passed away a few years ago, but honestly, he was rarely around. He came home long enough to knock up my mom and then he’d be off, jet-setting around the world.” I shrugged. “He was an asshole, but the worse he was, the closer the rest of us got.”
“I guess silver lining and all that.”
“Yeah.” I let my fingers tickle the keys in a familiar pattern.
“November Rain,” Devyn said, recognizing the well-known song by Guns ‘n Roses and joining me in playing it.
We played in silence for a few minutes, our arms and sides occasionally brushing as we moved. Every time she touched me, even though it wasn’t intentional, a spark of desire ripped through me that was hard to navigate.
