Chapter 9
Chapter nine
Hendrix · Then
Kiss Me Again – We The In Crowd
Fifteen Years Old
My eyes draw on the ticking clock.
I should already be halfway home by now, not hidden around the cracked music room door, watching Cole Hayes like some weirdo stalker.
“You’re not doing it right.” Saint snatches the ancient Fender from Cole’s hands.
Cole scowls. “Maybe you’re just a shit teacher.”
Saint only smirks. He settles the electric guitar in his lap. Deft fingers press down on the strings as he lazily strums. Each chord blends seamlessly, one into another, as he breezes through a tricky riff.
I flick back to Cole who's watching Saint with his hands shoved deep in his trouser pockets. The crooked grin I’ve grown so used to seeing on his face is gone and replaced with a…pout? My god.
I bite down my smile.
His black-and-blue striped tie hangs loose down his chest, the top couple buttons of his white shirt are popped open, and his hair is a shaggy mess, like he’s been tugging at the strands for hours.
The guy who is usually so effortlessly cool now stares down his best friend with puppy-dog eyes and puckered lips. It’s adorable.
Cole groans, dragging a hand down his face. “This is pointless. I’m never getting it.”
“You don’t have to be good at everything, you know,” Saint says with a grin. “You sing, play piano, drums, and the violin. Not to mention you write music. Why is guitar so important to you?”
Cole kicks his foot against the carpet. “’Cause Beethoven doesn’t exactly scream future rock star.”
My stomach flips.
Before I can think better of it, I stroll into the room. “You know there are a ton of bands who use piano in their music, right?”
Cole’s head spins so fast, I’m surprised he doesn’t topple over.
His gaze locks on mine, his back straightens, and he beams. “Is that so?”
“Just look at Queen.” I press my back to the wall and fold my arms over my chest.
“Not quite the vibes we’re going for.”
“Maybe not.” I hum. “But Avenged, My Chem…”
“Interesting.” Cole steps closer.
His fingers close around the edge of the drawstring dangling from my hood.
Saint lets out a low whistle before jumping up. “And that is my cue. I’m out of here. Drama time.”
“You do drama?” I twist to face Saint.
“It’s a new development.” Cole laughs at my gaping. “Theo does drama, therefore Saint now does drama.”
“Exactly.” Saint clicks his tongue and winks. “And I can’t be late for my second week.”
He claps a hand on Cole’s shoulder, muttering something low in his ear.
Cole shakes his head as mouth twitches.
“We’ll see,” he says to his best friend.
Saint just nods before sauntering through the room. He snags my fingers as he passes me, squeezing once before slipping out of the door.
It closes with a snick.
“Sorry.” I shift my weight from one foot to the other, and swipe my tongue over my lip stud as Cole watches me. “I didn’t mean to run him off.”
“Don’t be.” He bridges the distance between us, the toes of his black leather shoes hitting my Vans. “You’re much better company, anyway.”
My chest warms as he lazily peruses the Green Day hoodie I’m wearing—the same one I stole from his bag a few weeks back and never bothered returning.
“I like this hoodie.”
I gulp. “I forgot to wash mine.”
He pulls at the drawstring, tightening the neck as a smirk tilts his lips.
I swat him away. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“What can I say?” He brushes a hand over my hip as he reaches for the hem and plucks it from the waist of my pleated skirt so it falls to my thighs. “I like seeing you in my clothes.”
Heat crawls over my cheeks.
I shift past him and move to the keyboard.
My fingers ghost over the keys as Cole comes up behind me.
“You gonna play me a song, Rock Star?” I ask.
“Any requests?” He bumps me out of the way with his hip and perches on the black stool.
“Surprise me.”
“Surprise you…” he echoes, fingers poised over the keys for one single beat, before he does just that.
Für Elise floods through the room.
Cole’s fingers glide over the keys.
I try to follow each note, but his hands are nothing but a whisper stroke before he’s onto the next.
This is the guy who’s worried because he can’t play the guitar? Fuck that.
I love my guitar, but seeing Cole like this? His fingers ghosting over the keys as music pouring through the room is nothing short of magical.
A warm hand curls around my wrist and snaps me from my daze. “So, what did you think?”
I blink, my mouth dropping open.
“I thought you were kidding about Beethoven. I was expecting Twinkle Twinkle. Not…” A laugh bubbles from my throat. “That.”
“I can play that for you, too. If you want?”
I nudge him across the stool and perch on the corner next to him. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“My mum.” He grins. “She’s a piano teacher. Had me sitting on her lap in all her lessons from the moment I was born. Pretty sure I could play Incy Wincy Spider by my first birthday.”
“Dude. That’s cool as fuck. Seriously. Is there anything you can’t do?”
There’s the flicker of pink over his cheeks, so quick I’d have missed it if I wasn’t watching him so closely. “Guitar. I fucking suck.”
My heart pitter-patters.
I pinch my wrist, bite my tongue, but the words fly from me before I can stop them. “We could trade lessons.”
His gaze slants. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I didn’t mind the few times you’ve helped me out on the skateboard.”
“Mm.” His hand curls around the edge of the stool, his pinkie grazing my legs.
I tremble.
“So, you keep doing that,” I say, rolling my shoulders. “And I’ll teach you to play the guitar.”
“You play? I didn’t know that.” He cocks his head, honeyed eyes glowing as he looks at me as if he's seeing me for the first time all over again.
“Not really something I tell a lot of people.” I shrug. “My nana got me an acoustic when I was six and I’ve been playing ever since. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but I’m pretty good at it.”
“Why’d you never tell me?”
“It just didn’t come up.”
He brushes his thumb over his lower lip, eyes hooding. “If we do this, it means we’ll have to spend a lot more time together, just you and me.”
“I don't mind that.” My pulse thrums.
“And it could take years for me to even get even the basics down.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Not anytime soon.”
“Well then.” My breath hitches, and I chase it down with a cough, turning to look at the keys. “What else have you got up your sleeve?”
“Oh, I have something I think you’ll like.”
“Yeah?”
A beautiful smile brightens his face as he poises himself over the keys, his gaze locked on me.
Anticipation buzzes through my veins.
A hard G rings through the air, followed by the opening notes of Welcome To The Black Parade, and I melt.
My stomach flutters, my heart soaring in my chest as he plays one of my favourite songs.
I dig my fingertips into my thighs.
The vibration of the keys, the swell of the melody, the way the room seems to bend around him and the music flowing from his fingertips—it hits me all at once.
I get it now. I get him.
It isn’t just about the music.
Cole doesn’t play music just because he can. He plays because he needs to.
Because he was born to.
I finally understand the pull I feel to him, the invisible strings that seem to connect us.
We’re one and the same, music and melody colliding.
He plays the final chord, the notes ring in the air, and I can’t breathe.
Cole’s chest heaves, his eyes glittering as he leans in. “Rixie?”
I choke. “Yeah?”
“I’m gonna kiss you now.”
My body sags, and I smile. “I’d be really disappointed if you didn—”
He chases my words away, stealing my breath when he presses his lips to mine.
The kiss is soft, almost hesitant.
I fall into him.
My hands find purchase in his white shirt, fingers twisting in the crisp material as his tongue strokes along my lip. I gasp. He leans in, a hand squeezing my hip.
I’m so entranced in the moment, I miss the stool tipping.
It’s only when I’m flailing to the ground, Cole falling after me, that I realise what’s happening.
I land on my back, my breath whooshing out of me.
Cole drops his hands either side of my face, halting himself an inch away from me.
I laugh as he stares down at me. “We’ve really got to stop falling all over each other.”
“Yeah.” He rolls onto his back and threads his fingers through mine.
His thumb rolls along the back of my hand and sparks flicker through me.
If there’s ever a day someone asks me the moment I knew I was in love with Cole Hayes, I'm pretty sure today will be my answer.