Chapter 4
Four
Ari
The sound of a lone melody on the wind found me before anything else.
But the harder I tried to focus on it, the more it morphed into something that wasn’t exactly audible.
It was something deeper than that. Like a familiar vibration beneath my skin.
A memory I’d clung onto for too long. It curled through me, each note lapping against my skin, lashing scars across my back until breathing itself felt impossible.
The music stopped as quickly as it had begun, but echoes bounced off the rafters like they were targeting me, surrounded by darkness with no way out.
A single note echoed again, the scratch of a bow dragging across a single string with enough yearning to take my breath away.
The second the lone viola cut through the darkness, I knew it was him.
My violist.
The melody dipped and swirled, each note darker and more haunting than the last until I was consumed by them all.
I couldn’t see anything, but I didn’t need to.
I felt everything. I felt him. He was a looming presence behind me, inching closer until my skin pebbled and my breathing grew so shallow I wasn’t even sure I was drawing in air anymore.
The sound of the viola stuttered, and a warm breath whispered along the edge of my ear. “Ari.”
My name belonged in his mouth.
I was done borrowing it.
When I tried to inhale again, I couldn’t. He had consumed me so thoroughly, I fell to my knees and sobbed, my lungs filled with nothing but the sound of his voice.
Giving into him was inevitable, like gravity pulling a star to its doom, but I had forgotten what it was like to be on solid ground.
I didn’t turn around to face him. I couldn’t.
The second I did, there would be no going back.
My thighs throbbed to the sound of his heartbeat, and the faint ghost of a hand hovered over my skin as it trailed up my arm.
His caress was gentle as he trailed a fingertip over my breast, my nipple pebbling in its wake, and I was reduced to nothing more than the brush of his palm against my throat.
If this was my end, so be it. I’d made my peace.
I shifted backwards, angling my head to give him full access to my throat as I leaned into his touch.
The ghost of his breath was slow as it followed the line of my ear until it hovered just beneath my jaw, making my knees grow weak with anticipation.
I wanted what was coming, and I had no intention of stopping it—
“Ari!?”
The world snapped back into focus, and I jolted upright in my bed as a strangled gasp filled my burning lungs.
“Ari? Hey! Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Jake said warmly, pulling me into his chest. “It was just a bad dream.”
A dream.
Right.
I dragged in another shaky breath, holding onto fistfuls of Jake’s shirt as reality blurred for the briefest of moments, but it wasn’t a nightmare.
I longed to go back to my dream. Back to my violist, but I knew I couldn’t.
My heart thudded in my chest and my skin tingled where I swore I could still feel his hands between my legs— No.
It wasn’t him. It had just been a dream.
“Sorry,” I breathed, tucking my head into the crook of Jake’s neck as I pulled him closer to me, and he obliged my silent demand, squeezing me tighter.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he said, rubbing his thumb lightly over the back of my arm. “You were mumbling in your sleep. Must’ve been a really scary one.”
My stomach dropped at his words, but I didn’t move a muscle. If he knew… if Jake… knew I’d been lying to him, then— “What was I saying?”
He gave a small, almost amused huff, then pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “I don’t know, actually. It just sounded intense. You sure you’re alright?”
When he pulled away to look at me, I did my best to force a smile onto my face.
Jake’s eyes never stopped searching for something, but eventually his thumb traced the edge of my lip and he smiled softly.
Heat crept up my neck, equal parts embarrassment and guilt, so I forced out a laugh, waving it all off as I pushed my hair back from my face.
“I don’t even remember what I was dreaming about.” The lie slipped out easier than I expected it to, but it had been getting easier to lie to him lately.
I remembered everything about my dream. The music. My violist. The way I’d leaned into his touch like I belonged there, but beyond that… the way it felt when I was finally able to admit what I really wanted. Who I really wanted.
“Well,” Jake said gently, tilting my chin up towards him. “In case any of it comes back to you, you’re safe with me.” Jake’s blue eyes were kind, but the only thing I could focus on was the way the word safe echoed through my mind.
Safe. The word made me want to scream or run or do something—anything—other than this. Jake was safe. Jake was the easy choice, but I couldn’t choose him. Everything felt wrong. I didn’t want to be safe. I wanted to be so lost in the depths of love that I forgot my own name.
I shifted slightly, pulling away from him under the guise of covering back up with the blanket. “I know I am.”
He didn’t seem to notice the distance between us, or the way I’d pulled away. It wasn’t something he ever noticed. “The concert’s tonight, but you’ve been working so hard. If you’re still feeling up for it, I can get you a place to sit with water and a snack. Whatever you need, just let me know.”
And there it was. The unending kindness.
The ease of it all. The way he always rearranged things to make space for me.
It was second-nature to him, like breathing or laughing.
It was horrible that all I could think of was the way my violist’s music had felt under my skin, and my insides twisted into knots, so I swallowed, forcing my expression into something softer to hide the turmoil festering inside me.
“I am really tired,” I said after a moment, letting my voice dip slightly.
“Then don’t go,” he said without hesitation, concern immediately replacing the lightness in his features.
“Seriously, Ari. You never miss a night, and you’ve stayed up until almost sunrise every day this week to get those seven gigs booked for us.
You’re a rockstar, but even rockstars have to sleep. Rest. Your health comes first.”
Of course it does. Of course he would say that, because Jake is good. He’s easy. He’s everything I should ever want, I just don’t.
He placed a gentle kiss to my forehead as I slid back onto my pillow, closing my eyes as he lingered there for a second too long. “Text me if you need anything, or if you change your mind. Otherwise I’ll be back around two.”
“Okay.”
His eyes gave me one last look-over before sliding out of bed, then I watched as he moved around the room with ease, grabbing things that he’d need for the show.
His wallet. A jean jacket. The extra pack of drum sticks I’d bought for him last week.
He only lingered for a few seconds before giving me a soft smile, waving as he blew me a kiss and gently closed the bedroom door.
He was completely unaware of the chaos swirling inside my head, and when he finally left our apartment, I was alone with my thoughts for the first time in… maybe a year.
I’d spent so long trying not to be alone, that I hadn’t even realized It’d been that long. The silence was odd, like reacquainting with an old friend I hadn’t realized I’d lost, and my hands shook in my lap when I sat back up again. I had to keep them busy, or I wasn’t sure what would happen.
I reached for the pair of socks Jake must have left on the foot of the bed, twirling them over and over in my hands as I stared at the threadbare cotton.
I wasn’t sure what to do, but a doting girlfriend would be nice and put them away, so I did.
I climbed out of our king size bed, walked across our pristine apartment, and opened the top drawer of our vintage wooden dresser.
All I could do was stare at the piles of his grey, black, and white socks, wondering how it had come to this.
How I’d let myself become what my mother would have called “domesticated”.
I was smothering, so I threw the socks in and slammed the drawer shut.
But when I did, there was an unmistakable sound of something heavy scraping across the bottom of the drawer, and I froze.
A small voice told me not to look.
I shouldn’t go digging.
It was his drawer, not mine. Whatever was in there was none of my business, but I couldn’t stop myself.
I opened it slowly, patting around until I found a hard lump in the back corner.
My fingers clasped around it with ease, and my heart thundered in my ears as I pulled out a small red box.
The walls were closing in around me, and I was struggling to breathe, but I had to know what was inside.
I had to open it.
The diamond was bigger than I expected it to be, but the band was simple and thoughtful. He’d obviously spent time picking out something I’d like, and he was right. It was beautiful.
It symbolized a future every girl dreamed of.
But I didn’t.
I slammed the ring box closed as I shoved it back under his socks, doing everything I could to pretend like this wasn’t happening.
I had spent years trying to convince myself I could do this.
I could be with Jake. I had fallen in love before.
I was capable of being obsessed with him; chase him; long for him.
I was more than capable of loving Jake.
I just couldn’t seem to make myself do it.
He was kind. Familiar. He was the perfect partner a woman could ask for.
And it wasn’t fucking enough.