Page 35 of Composed
“Where’d you learn to play like that?” I ask.
She looks up at me, her expression blanking. “From watching my dad, mostly.”
“Your dad plays?”
“Used to. He was amazing.” Her gaze dips and she pulls at the fraying hem of her denim shorts. “He was in a band when he was younger and everything. Pretty sure if you cut him, music would bleed from his veins.”
“Like father, like daughter,” I tease.
“Something like that.” She clears her throat, shaking her head before her gaze locks on me. “But yeah. I learned from watching my dad. Then in year seven, my music teacher took pity on me when he caught me hanging around the hallway watching guitar lessons after school. He handed me a bunch of music books, some VHS recordings of old lessons, and here we are.”
“You’ve never had a lesson?”
A dry laugh slips past her lips. “No.”
“Rixie!”
Her brows lift and her lips twist. “What?”
“You realise that’s insane, right?” I gesture to the guitar in her hand and shake my head. “You just played one of the trickiest guitar songs with your eyes closed. And yet you’ve never had a single lesson.”
Her mouth drops open and she blinks. Once. Twice. Then she shrugs, as if she didn’t just show off skills only a musical prodigy would have.
“I just really like that song, so I’ve practiced it. A lot.” She chuckles, placing the guitar down and laying back. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be able to play it with your eyes closed too.”
I snort. “Yeah, I don’t think so. I’ll be lucky if I can get this down.”
I wave the sheet music she pushed into my hands when she got here.Stand By Me. There’s only four chords in the progression and that still seems optimistic with my skill level. Or lack thereof.
“Who knew you were so pessimistic, dude?”
“Realistic,” I quip.
“Whatever you say.” She shuffles across the bed, patting the mattress beside her.
I dive out of my chair, the sheet music forgotten as it flutters to the floor. She rolls onto her side, her pinkie brushing mine as I lay beside her.
Reaching out, I push her hair behind her ear. “Is this what you want to do with your life? Music?”
She hums as my fingers disappear into her silky strands, fluttering across her scalp.
“In a band?” I ask, tugging gently as her eyes close. “I happen to know a budding rock band that would happily take you on, if so.”
Her lips curl up. “I think there’s only room for one rock star in this relationship.”
Hendrix’s eyes pop open at her slip-up, looking anywhere but at me.
My heart races and I beam. “Rixie, are we a couple?”
She shakes her head, her mouth opening, but no words come.
“Are you claiming me?” I sit up and climb over her, my knees either side of her legs. “Am I your boyfriend?”
She stammers. “Nu-uh.”
I reach out for her hips, my fingers grazing the soft curve before I dive in with a tickling attack.
She stiffens, then bursts into giggles that ripple through her like a melody. Her breath quickens, and she wriggles, trying to slip out of my grasp, but I hold on tight.
