Page 44 of Broken Chords

Chapter Eighteen

Trill:a rapid, usually unmeasured alternation between two adjacent notes

Damian

“Hey, Damian,” Zeke greets me as I come through the door, making a quick pit stop for lunch before my afternoon classes. Charlie has a noon class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and I have class at one, so we don’t usually see each other till late afternoon. Even later today, since I have Strings Seminar on Wednesdays at four.

“Hey, Zeke. What’s up?”

He holds up a thick envelope, hand addressed in fancy script. “This one’s yours. We all got ‘em.”

I reach out and take it, dropping my backpack on the floor against the end of the couch. “What is it?”

“It’s an invitation. To Gabby’s wedding to that popstar guy.”

“Jonathan.”

Zeke scratches his chest. “I thought his name was Jonny B?”

Nodding, I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope. “Yeah. That’s his stage name. Gabby always called him Jonathan when she talked about him, though.” Pulling out the interior envelope, I narrow my eyes at Zeke. “Why’d she invite you if you can’t even be bothered to learn her fiancé’s name?”

Zeke shrugs, and I smirk. “I’ve never met the dude. Have you?”

I nod, looking over the invitation, my eyes snagging on the plus one option, a smile taking over my face. “Yeah. I met him once. He seemed nice. He cares about Gabby. Makes her happy. That’s what matters, right?”

With a nod, Zeke indicates the invite. “Yeah. I guess so. You gonna go? It’s in California the first week of Christmas break.”

I look at the date on the card and pull out the little sheet of paper with the instructions on how to book a room at the resort, which is only available for wedding guests. My eyebrows climb my forehead. But I guess when you’re marrying a celebrity, these are the kinds of things you do.

“Maybe. The first week of break means we’ll be back in time for Christmas.” I shrug. “Not like I have a full schedule over the break. Practicing for my recital and the spring concerto competitions. I can spare a few days to see a friend get married.”

“Yeah. True. That resort’s not cheap, though.”

“You already looked at it?”

He cracks a grin. “That was the first thing that I did. It’d be fun, though. Swanky resort. Bring Tamara. You gonna bring Charlie if you go?”

I nod, my gaze falling to the invitation again. They’re requesting donations to a charity in lieu of wedding gifts. I suppose that they have enough money to buy whatever they might need already. And they spend most of their time on a bus or in hotels, so it’s not like they need the traditional gifts of china or towels or whatever. No need to register at Target or Bed Bath and Beyond.

I haven’t been to a wedding where I didn’t play in years. Even my sister had me get a quartet together to play her wedding last year. It’d be fun to see Gabby again. Plus a weekend away with Charlie before we go our separate ways for Christmas break? Who’d say no to that?

If we split a room, it’d be more affordable. Maybe …

I’ll have to take a look at the money details and talk to Charlie. But if we can swing it, I want to make it happen.

Later that night, I’m naked in Charlie’s bed, spooning her, running my hand over the silky skin of her torso. It’s been over a week since we first made love, and we’ve fallen into an easy routine where we spend our days in class and doing homework, sometimes getting together for a quick lunch or study session, practicing, then dinner together with naked time after. She still plays those chord progressions, usually at the end of her practice time. I hear her when I finish practicing and go retrieve her from her practice room. Sometimes I stand at the door and listen for a few minutes, seeing if she’s doing anything different. The last few nights her playing has started to take more melodic shape than just a series of chords sliding into one another. It’s interesting. But when I ask her about it, she brushes off my question and insists she’s just messing around.

Soon I’ll have to extricate myself from Charlie’s embrace to practice again tonight. I’m recording my audition for the Gem State Concerto Competition next week. The recital hall is reserved for the recording, and my teacher will be there to make sure we get the best take possible.

But for now, I’m sleepy and sated, relishing the soft give of Charlie’s body against mine.

She sighs and snuggles back into me, the sound a combination of contentment and something else. My hand brushes up her rib cage again then slides around her, squeezing her against me. “Everything okay?”

I feel her nod more than see it because of the way her head is tucked under mine. She scoots away from me a little and turns onto her back. I prop my head on my hand, looking down at her, enjoying the way the soft light from her lamp plays over her features, tinging them with a golden glow that makes her seem even more ethereal and otherworldly.

A crooked smile tips up one side of her mouth, drawing my attention to her pink lips, still slightly swollen from our fevered kisses. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Ah.” I brush the hair off her forehead, running my fingers down her cheek and leaning in for a kiss. “I’ll come back when I’m done practicing. Or you could come with me. Practice too or do homework or whatever you need.”

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