Chapter 14 #3
“Yeah. I thought I’d come and say hello.
” I swallow and move toward him. As I sit down next to him, there are butterflies in my stomach, and I don’t know why.
I didn’t have them when I lay next to him on his bed, at least not like this.
I think. But I was also worn out from all the crying, and it was darker, and I couldn’t see his face as well as I can now.
I’m afraid I might just be confused.
“Hi,” he says and laughs softly. The sound of his voice makes my skin tingle. I can’t help it. Also, he’s looking at me so intensely.
I put my right hand on the keys and begin to play a simple melody, one of the first that Dad taught me when I was a kid.
“Why am I surprised that you can play?” Easton asks, sounding amazed.
“I don’t know.”
His arm brushes my shoulder as he raises his right hand and places it next to mine. He plays the same melody as me, just two octaves lower.
“Do you play any other instruments I don’t know about?”
“A little guitar. That’s all.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
I don’t have to look to know he’s rolling his eyes, and I smile a little.
“As if that ever stopped you.”
“I’m not good enough to mention it,” I reply, my fingers gliding over the keys a little faster now. I haven’t played in a long time, and only now that I’m doing it again do I realize how much I’ve missed it.
“Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“Then don’t.” I glance at him for a second, and he really does roll his eyes. But he’s grinning. “What are you doing here, anyway?” I ask quickly, before we can talk about me more. Also, I realize I haven’t actually asked him yet.
“Right now, or in general?”
“Both.” Why does that sound like a question?
“Right now, I’m still here because I fell in love with this grand piano. Honestly, it feels totally different from playing the electric piano at home.”
I nod. I can imagine that. I’ve never played an electric piano. We had pretty much the same kind of piano as this one in our living room.
“Aside from that, I have to go to the record store anyway.” He looks at his watch. “In about an hour. It’s not really worth going home in the meantime and then leaving again in half an hour. I’d rather stay here and play a little.”
My fingers pause mid-motion, and only the notes that Easton is playing ring out for a moment. Then he stops too.
“Sorry. I interrupted you, didn’t I? I can leave and let you play.” I make a move to get up, but Easton grabs my wrist and gently pulls me back onto the stool.
“You didn’t interrupt me, and I don’t want you to leave,” he says, looking directly into my eyes. So directly that I can feel the blood rising to my cheeks.
“Okay,” I say.
“Besides, there’s still a lot I have to tell you.”
I have to smile, and he stares at my mouth, which suddenly feels terribly dry.
“You have a beautiful smile,” he says. He sounds so sincere that my face gets even hotter. His voice sounds a little hoarse too. Help, what’s going on here?
“You wanted to tell me some things,” I remind both him and myself.
He clears his throat. Is he blushing too? “Right. So basically, I’m here because the school needed a replacement for Deborah, and Jase suggested me.”
“How do you and Jase know each other, anyway?”
“He lived with me over the summer. Not last year, but the year before. He was having problems with his parents. He needed a place to sleep, and we had room.”
“That was nice of you.”
“That’s just the way I am,” he says, nudging me, and now I roll my eyes. But I can’t stop the smile that’s sneaking its way onto my face. How does he do that? How can he make me smile so easily?
“I know.” I look at him more closely, and now he’s definitely blushing. I shouldn’t find that cute, but I do.
“Anyway,” he continues, “Jase got me the job, and that’s why I’m here.”
“Isn’t that a lot? The job at the record store, here, and also the Lighthouse. You’re still working at the Lighthouse, right?”
“Yeah, I am, but it doesn’t hurt to have some extra money. We really need a new van.”
“But will you have enough time for the band?” I can hear the worry in my voice.
“Yeah. It’s no big deal. I’m here in the mornings, at the record store in the afternoons, and I only DJ at the Lighthouse on weekends anyway.”
“How’s the band going?” I ask, immediately feeling guilty for not asking sooner. I’m a terrible friend.
“Pretty good. We’re still waiting for our big break.” He laughs, but it sounds hollow.
“So the search for a label is—”
“Slow? Yeah, you could say that.”
“Sorry to hear it.”
“Don’t be. You can’t do anything about it.”
“Is there any way I can help?” The question slips out before I can stop it.
Easton turns to me in surprise. “No. I really couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t, I just offered.”
“Still, it wouldn’t be fair.”
I tilt my head and try to figure out what he’s thinking. “Why not?”
“Because . . .” He trails off, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
My heart skips a beat, because someone else in Easton’s situation probably would have taken me up on my offer. But Easton is Easton, and he doesn’t do that kind of thing.
“If that ever changes—”
“I’ll let you know,” he says, finishing my sentence.
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“There’s something I want to hear too.” He reaches for my hand and puts it on the keys. “Play for me, Rayne.”