Page 29 of Things I Read About

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“Tinkles?” Janie asks.

“That time she played for the Governor”—Kat starts giggling as she talks—“she said ‘Thank you all for letting me tinkle the ivory for you today.’”

They all laugh. Well, all but Nate, who still just watches me.

“I was seven!”

Nate crosses his arms and puts one hand up to his mouth. “Let’s make it a hundred.”

Kat agrees and our little crowd murmurs with excitement.

I start on a favorite Tchaikovsky piece. I watch my fingers, and the keys, looking up occasionally when I slip into a flow state.

A state interrupted because Nate clears his throat. I glance his way.

Wait, what is he doing?

I look down at my fingers as necessary but when I can glance up, I watch him as he takes his black jacket off.

I almost miss a note but recover, willing myself to focus. But he moves closer, messing with his shirt sleeves. I hear the guys whispering and laughing about whatever it is Nate is trying to do. Then I understand.

He’s rolled a sleeve. His forearm is huge.

And covered in tattoos.

I bet it’s a full sleeve.

I play softer, slower, but I still haven’t made a mistake.

He’s closer now and I smell him.

I look up to see him lean over, one arm flat on the piano top and the other holding his chin. So many tattoos, both forearms. I wish I could see if the ink extends all the way up to his shoulders. I almost miss a note, again.

Kat whispers under her breath.

I can’t look up anymore.Focus!

But he clears his throat, again.

I look up.

He’s grinning.

That grin. I want to kiss it. Take a photo. Frame the pho—

Crap. Missed that B flat.

I keep playing, of course. I can’t let the song hang open ended in the air. I let myself look at his smirk a couple more times. His eyes, dark and taunting. The scruff on his jaw.

Soon, I’m done.

There’s no silence this time, just applause.

Kat reaches her hands out. “Well?”

I grimace. “Sorry, Kat.”

“Aw, man.”

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