Page 99 of Hypothetical Heart
“You don’t even use it.” He laughs because he knows I never learned the sheet music. I just watch him play andmemorize where my fingers go on the keys. “But yes, I did.” He pulls the packet out of his backpack.
“You know me too well.” I smile and take it from him before patting the bench next to me with my other hand. “Sit next to me.”
He does as I ask, one of his hands gripping my thigh while the other lays on the keys.
“What should we play?” I ask, flipping through the book. I haven’t learned a majority of these songs, but there’s a handful that I’ve attempted to play before.
“You pick,” he tells me.
“What’s the song Mae likes for you to play?”
“Another Loveby Tom Odell?” He plays a few notes of the chorus, making sure it’s the right song.
“Yeah, that one.” It’s the one he was playing when I came to their house the first time he tried teaching me how to play.
He pulls my hands from my lap and onto the keys, positioning each of my fingers with his overtop of mine.
“This is the first key.” He presses both our hands down.
He repeats the process of positioning my hands and playing the keys perfectly, and then he lets me try playing a few keys at a time by myself. I’m not as quick in the transition of notes as he is, but that’s to be expected.
Every time I look at him, he’s smiling at me with pride. His approval radiates through me, making me want to keep impressing him.
“Will you play one hand while I play the other?” I ask.
He nods, waiting for me to position my hand correctly, and for the next bit of time, we each play one hand of the song until it sounds good enough.
There’s nothing hotter to me than the face he makes when he glances back and forth from the piano to me. Thesleeves of his button-up are also rolled, making it so his forearms are on full display. It’s one of the greatest sights I’ve ever seen.
I must spend a little too much time not focusing on the keys because the next note I play is not correct and just makes a big, uglydunggggsound.
Logan looks at me, and as soon as we make eye contact, his face turns from confusion to a knowing look. He’s well aware of why I played the key wrong.
“Can people see through those windows?” I whisper, looking back toward the door and the narrow windows on either side of it.
“No, they’re tinted.” It’s all I need to hear to gain the courage to swing my leg over his lap, knock his hands off the keys, andstraddle Logan on the piano bench. He sucks a breath in through his teeth, clearly struggling to keep his composure.
It’s a good thing mine’s already out the window.
“I’ve thought about doing this since the first time we sat at the piano in your house,” I say, pressing my lips against his ear.
“Well, I guess the least I can do is fulfill the fantasy,” he says, gripping my jaw in one hand while he holds my waist steady with the other.
“Please,” I plea, holding onto either of his shoulders.
His lips crash into mine, pulling me into a completely different state of mind, one that gives me every bit of confidence I need.
I could stay like this forever, I’m sure of it. With his arms around me and his lips on mine, it feels nothing short of a miracle; a miracle we’ve made it this far, a miracle we have each other all to ourselves.
There’s something to be said about the feeling of aperfect kiss because it’s not just about the movement of lips and whether someone uses too much tongue. It’s the feeling that you’re never going to find anything like this because you are so intertwined with this person, the one that screams in your face saying,YOU ARE EXACTLY WHERE YOU DESERVE TO BE.
I’ve felt undeserving of Logan Callaghan my entire life, even when I went around claiming he was my husband in kindergarten–which, at the time, felt like wishing on a shooting star.
Logan’s hands move up my back and into my hair, combing through the waves. “God, you’re so pretty.” He smiles against my lips, unable to contain it.
I go to lean back on my heels, not realizing how far off the bench I’ve gotten, and right as I do, I hear the deafening sound of all the keys on the piano. Logan grabs me, quickly pulling me off the keys and back onto his lap.
“You okay?” he asks, a smirk creeping on his face.
