Page 156 of Play of Love
I nodded. "Yeah."
"Is that how most musicians create music?"
I shrugged. Lucy always said I had a special gift. A very special gift that would undoubtedly take me places. She was so right.
"I can't say that they do, and I can't say that they don't. For me when I look at anything, doesn't matter what it is I see and hear it as a musical note. Sometimes the world sounds like one big orchestra to me."
"That's real impressive Evie. I've never of heard that before."
It was weird I supposed, but that's how I'd done it from as far back as I could remember. "Maybe because it sounds crazy."
"No, it doesn't." He did look impressed. "Can you do it now?" He asked.
My brain was always doing it. I just wasn't paying it any attention. I nodded and smiled.
"What can you hear?" He looked around them looking like he was trying to listen.
I pulled in a slow breath and listened. As he shifted on the sofa, his movement against the leather sounded like a swish. For me, that was a treble clef middle C whole note. When the door opened outside of the lobby and someone came in, I heard a whole melody. E sharp, A, B, E, C all as quavers and if someone were singing it they'd be singing as a tenor.
"Evie," he prodded, I smiled at him.
"I'd have to play it for you, or sing."
"Then sing." He said quickly like he was eager to hear what was going on in my head.
"I am not singing for you." No way. Yes, I loved to sing, but for me that was too intimate to share. That was why I hummed when I was composing.
"Why not?"
"Because I only just started talking to you. It's like we just met," I chuckled.
He frowned at me. "Like hell, we didn't just meet. We've known each other since we were kids. Come on sing."
I shook my head. "I can't, but... maybe I will one day." I made a show of finishing off the rest of my ice cream and gesturing that my mouth was full.
"You're torturing me," he huffed.
I laughed and rested my head against the soft leather of the sofa. "I said maybe one day. That should give you some hope."
"Alright, Miss Evie." He bit the inside of his lip.
Miss Evie.
He'd taken to calling me that the other night. At first, I was annoyed, but now I supposed it didn't seem so bad.
"What about you?" We hadn't spoken about him at all.
"Me, what me?"
"How's football?"
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side. "Oh, we're doing that are we? You share, then I share." The irresistibly devastating grin on his face drew my attention to his sensual lips.
"I guess," I replied. He appeared genuinely interested in my music, so it seemed only right that I try to gather some interest for football. I hated the sport, hated anything like that where there could be potential violence and body clashing. In football there always was. "So how is it?"
He thought for a moment, and a hesitant expression filled his face. "It's different to what it used to be." There was a hint of sadness in his voice.
"Don't you like it anymore?" It would be odd if he didn't. I was sure he was just as obsessed with the sport as I was with my music.
