Page 44 of Love is a Drum Beat
Jo shook her head and hung up. Noah would get over it. Ice cream clasped in one hand, she retrieved a second spoon—not like he’d eat it with her.
She trudged across the gleaming wooden floor and nudged open the door with her elbow. Her entire body froze in the doorway as she took in Dax in a pair of loose sweatpants and a simple black V-neck. It wasn’t the clothes she stared at. Dax sat on the other side of the plexiglass at the piano. She’d only seen him play guitar, but somehow this was a better fit.
Dax didn’t sing, despite his mouth forming the words. Jo’s gaze flitted from Dax to the red light that said he was recording. There was something haunting in the melody. Jo walked to the leather couch near the mixing board.
Dax closed his eyes, letting his entire body sway with the music. His glasses were pushed into the hair on top of his head, and it transformed his face. Jo felt a sudden need to look into his bared eyes, to find what he hid there.
His fingers flew over the keys, knowing what to do.
Jo would admit it. She was not a piano person, or really any instrument other than drums. She didn’t understand them. But the drums… there was an emotional draw to them. She could pound out her anxieties, letting the drums take the brunt of it. For her, it had always been an escape.
Feeling like an intruder, Jo contemplated going back to her room. Dax had never invited her into his studio, despite letting her invade other parts of his life.
The music wound to a close and Dax’s voice came through the speaker. “Can you stop the recording?”
Jo hadn’t realized he saw her. She found the button to stop recording, hit it, and waddled back to the couch.
Dax stood and pushed the black leather bench in toward the piano.
Jo didn’t know whether to stay or leave until Dax removed his glasses and brushed a hand through his mussed hair. He set the glasses on his face, becoming the man she wasn’t sure she knew.
Dax didn’t ask her if she liked what he was playing. Instead, he bent his head to peer down at the controls. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I know.” Jo shrugged. “I shouldn’t be out of bed.”
“That’s not…” He cleared his throat. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t that he wanted her to stay on bedrest, he didn’t yet trust her to come into his studio.
“I just mean—”
“I know just what you mean.” She heaved herself up from the couch. “I won’t bother you again.”
“Wait.” He reached out to snatch her wrist. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Dax. You wanted to be the hero taking care of me—and I appreciate it—but you don’t always want me around.”
“But I do,” he blurted. “Stay, please.”
He was going to give her whiplash, but she didn’t care. She wanted to hear him play again. “Okay.” Lowering herself once more on the couch, she tapped her fingers against her leg as silence stretched between them. “So… thanks for having your mom stop by. She really helped me a lot.”
That brought a genuine smile to his face. “And you repay me by gorging on ice cream?”
She shrugged. “You’re the one who bought it.”
“Paid a high price for it too.” He chuckled. The bruises had faded from his face, but it would take a lot longer for the blog posts and articles to fade.
“I knew it. You didn’t really fight Blake for me, it was for ice cream.”
He raised a brow in the Dax way he had that let her know he found her amusing. “I went to the store to get ice cream for you and snacks for Ben. Blake’s face just happened to get in the way of my fist.”
“I can’t believe you bought me ice cream.”
“Well, you wanted it.”
It was that simple for him. Jo wanted something, so Dax procured it. “I think I’ve been wrong about you, Dax.”
“Most people are.” He shrugged.
