7. Nate #2
But when Ron stalked away, Carter ran his fingers over the strings, testing the sound. In the next instant, he began playing a simple little tune. It was nothing special to those who didn’t know what Carter was going through right this minute.
The boy had opened his heart to a much older man only to be coldly refused, then cocooned himself away from the sport his father’s ambition had ruined for him, and now he dared to play his music in front of a crowd of unknowns.
Dear Carter, I thought. What possessed you to do this? The murmurs filled the room as people lost interest. Unlike Ron, Carter wasn’t ruining his reputation by being showy. He was playing from his heart, however light and slow the music was.
But as the chatter rose, so did his music. As he ran his fingers over the strings, more elaborate tunes rose, quieting the crowd.
My heart lurched. It was a mournful melody only a heartbroken nineteen-year-old could come up with.
“Holy fuck,” Beckett said. “’Scuse me, Uncle.”
I didn’t pay attention to my nephew’s teasing.
In fact, my focus had narrowed completely on Prince up on the stage and the music he was playing.
The melody kept rising to an impossible level, not in volume but in tension.
I wondered how he would resolve this. It felt like a total conundrum.
He couldn’t possibly untangle the motifs he played in a satisfying way.
It went up and up and up to new heights, complicating the simple tunes he had opened this show with.
And when it felt like all the breaths in the room were held and all eyes were on him, Carter glanced up from the guitar.
The shy look now bore all the pride and determination I had never seen on him, not even when he helped the Titans secure their victory against the Breakers.
His fingers moved faster, and he brought on total carnage.
The themes dissolved into a mad flurry of incredible notes.
A bit of an Andalusian melody entered his piece, and he half played the strings and half drummed the wild rhythm against the guitar’s body.
I’d never seen anyone do anything like it.
Ovations rose through the crowd as Carter mercilessly drummed the guitar’s body and strummed the strings.
How he did both at the same time was a total mystery to me, who had never plucked a string in his life.
Even as the crowd cheered, Carter wasn’t ending.
And like I knew he would, he ended on his terms, tiring the pub’s patrons into silence before bringing on an explosive crescendo that stunned us.
When he was done, there wasn’t a chair with an ass still on it in the entire pub, including ours.
Beckett pushed forward through the crowd, and my heart dropped.
“Where’s he going?” I growled.
“To bring them here, I think,” Caden said.
Fuck. But Carter took all the breaths away in the room, and he ogled at us all from the stage as if he had no idea what he had done. For all the natural talent he had exhibited on the ice, it was nothing compared to his guitar skill.
Beckett and Ron cleared the way for the undisputed star of the evening as they reached our table.
Caden hurried to bring extra chairs, and people tapped Carter’s shoulders.
He reacted much the same way he had when I had praised his performance on the ice — mainly with confusion that anything he did could be incredible.
He had tried speaking to me, but I hadn’t listened. I hadn’t understood how deep his passion was for music and how insecure he was.
When the three neared the table, Carter looked from Caden to me, and his face turned red.
If that was all, I might have survived it, but the sadness in his eyes was like a dagger stabbed straight into my heart.
I had hurt him, I knew, but it was for the best. It was for his own good that I had pushed him away.
If he didn’t understand that now, it was alright. He would, someday, when his heart turned to someone appropriate.
And I would be happy for him. This fluttering attraction that I felt was nothing but a passing whim of a man past his prime.
I’d missed out on all the good things, but I wasn’t going to use my best friend’s son to feel like I hadn’t.
However appealing the thought was and however beautiful that fleeting touch had been, I wouldn’t let my resolve cave in.
Only disaster awaited if I did.
We sat down. Carter was still looking at me while Beckett and Caden went to the bar to fetch more drinks.
“Well done, Prince,” I said, mindful of the fact that Ron Rigby was sitting next to me.
“Thanks, Coach,” Carter said casually and looked away.
“What? No ‘well done’ for Rigby?” Ron teased. “Ah, I gotta take a leak anyway. Stage fright.” He laughed and got up, then disappeared into the crowd.
“I didn’t expect to see you,” Carter said to the wall behind me.
“I didn’t expect to be here.” I leaned forward and waited for him to look at me. When he didn’t, I still spoke from my heart. “I see now that you were right, Carter.”
He raised his eyebrows a little. I wished he wasn’t this beautiful when sweat covered his brow and began tousling his hair.
“You could have a future in hockey, believe me, but that’s not what you should do with your life.” I couldn’t avoid feeling like I was betraying my old friend, but nobody should dictate a child’s future. “If it comes to that, I’ll talk some sense into Dana.”
“Thanks, Nate,” Carter said. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get there.”
“Don’t let yourself be defeated before the fight,” I said.
He met my gaze now. It was as if he was pinning me against the wall with that knowing look. But he smirked after a moment and shook his head. “Does that mean I should keep trying?”
Shivers ran down my spine. “I…don’t think that’s wise.”
“Of course not,” he said. “You don’t want someone like me.”
Deep in my bones, I knew he had already surrendered all his fights. These were the words of someone who didn’t care about the outcome. He spoke freely even if it doomed him. “Carter, there’s twenty years between us.”
“Eighteen and a half,” he corrected me. “The third of August.”
My birthday. “Regardless, your dad’s been my closest friend since before you were born. I’m your coach, for God’s sake.”
Carter nodded. Something about his expression was changing, but I couldn’t tell what it was. “You’ve barely spoken in two years. Besides, I don’t have to be a Titan if that makes all the difference.”
He was tempting me to be cruel, I realized.
He wanted to hear me say the vicious words.
He wanted me to tell him I didn’t find him attractive, that I would never find him attractive, or he would continue this forever.
But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. “I thought you were doomed to play hockey forever,” I said pointedly.
Carter sucked a breath of air sharply to argue with that, but Beckett and Caden reached our table, and the tension disappeared like some magician had taken it away with the sleight of hand.
The boys put fresh beers on the table, and I pretended that Carter was old enough to drink.
After all, he was old enough to wow the entire pub.
And he was old enough to argue with me about destiny and the ways of the heart, even to leave me jumping through the logical loops just to make a point.
A pleased expression remained on Carter’s face for the rest of the night, which didn’t last very long at my insistence. We didn’t speak much to one another. In fact, I didn’t speak a lot at all. Four boys in a bar had a lot more to talk about to each other.
That night, while tossing and turning and waiting for our trip to Chicago, I couldn’t get his music out of my head.