Page 170 of Of Heartbreak and Harmony
“Hey.” Her voice is raspy and quiet, like she hasn’t used it yet today. Like she’d rather not be using it now. “How was the meeting?”
“Fine.” I bend down and kiss her. “We’ve adjusted the calendar so we can get some studio time once everyone is back from Canada, and we’ll play the LA make-up shows before we leave for the UK.”
“Oh, good. I’m glad you got that figured out.” She purses her lips. “You really should reconsider skipping out on the Canadian shows, though.”
I shake my head. “I’m staying with you. Beck’s already agreed to continue filling in.”
Callie arches a brow. “So, he’sBecknow?”
“He’s a good bassist,” I say with a shrug. “He’s earned my respect.” I give her a smirk. “And I have no reason to be jealous since I’m the one you’re in love with.”
“I might have liked you better when you were jealous and possessive.”
Her lips twitch with the urge to smile. That twitch makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. She’s being playful, and I crave more of it. Moments like this, when I see a spark of life behind her sad eyes, I grow even more desperate. I would do anything,beanything, if I can just make this moment last. If I can just get her full smile to break free.
I let my smirk grow, quirk a brow, and lower my voice. “I’m still possessive, Firebird. But I can act jealous if you want me to.”
She shivers and her eyes flicker with heat. It’s a look I haven’t seen in weeks, and lust stirs low in my stomach. I hold her every night, but Imiss touching her. Feeling her. I miss knowing she wants me. When she worries her lower lip, my restraint almost snaps, but then her spine straightens, and a curtain closes on her expression.
“If I ask you to act jealous, will you fire Becket and go on tour?”
“Nice try,” I say with a forced huff of laughter. I try to act unbothered, but I’m worried I fail. “Anyway.Beckethas it handled. I’m here with you, and that’s final.”
Her lips bow into a frown. It’s the same look she gave me last time we talked about Becket filling in for me in Canada. I expect I’ll get the same look again the next time this conversation pops up. Apparently,that’s finalmeans nothing to the love of my life.
“You don’t need to stay here for me. I’m not even doing anything. I’m just...existing between follow-ups right now. It’s boring. You should go tour Canada instead of potatoing with me.”
She keeps asking why I would want to put my whole life on hold for her. What she doesn’t understand is that she’s become the most important aspect of my life.
“Firebird,” I say clearly. “There is literally nowhere I would rather be thanpotatoingwith you.” She rolls her eyes, and I laugh. “I’m serious.Justexistinghere with you is better than anything I could be doing somewhere else.”
“Well.” She squints at me. “You’re full of charm today, aren’t you?”
I wink, then gently take the e-reader from her and set it on the small table beside her chair.
“I have something I want to show you,” I say, offering her my hand. “It’s a surprise.”
“Oh. Should I be scared?” She pushes to her feet and follows me as I lead her through the apartment.
“Patience,” I tease. “You’re lucky I’m not blindfolding you.”
She lets out a laugh that almost resembles a giggle, and the sound seizes my chest. I miss her laugh. I’m hoping that laugh means this will work in my favor, but as I turn down the hallway that leads to the second living room, her steps slow. When I look at her, her brow is creased with worry, so I rub my thumb over the back of her hand.
“Just trust me,” I say, seeking her gaze. “Just trust me, okay?”
Callie hasn’t gone anywhere near her piano since that early morning I found her sitting dazedly on the bench. She even uses the ensuitebathroom so she can steer clear of the hallway that leads to the room housing the piano. She has a few more weeks before she can start physical therapy, but something tells me the sooner she gets her hands on the keys, the better she’ll start to feel. If she continues to avoid it, her grief and fear will only fester.
I give her an encouraging smile and squeeze her hand, then she nods. Once in the living room, I take her to the piano bench and gesture for her to sit. Reluctantly, she does, and I take a seat to the left of her.
I glance at her. Her posture is stiff, her face contorted in a frown, and her eyes are focused somewhere just above the piano keys. Her breathing is steady and even, she protectively cradles her casted arm in a way that makes my chest tight with sympathy.
I close my eyes and hope like hell I’m doing the right thing. Then, I find the C-sharp octave, place my left hand on the keys, and begin to play only the left-hand part of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata.”
As the descending bass note fills the room, I hear Callie’s breath hitch. The moment I play the B octave for the second measure, she turns her body to face me. “Torren?”
I take my hand off the keys, look into those pale green eyes that I love, and give her a soft smile. “Let me play your bass notes, Firebird.”
She bounces her eyes between mine, fear giving way to uncertainty, and all I want to do is hold her. I want to give her back what she’s lost. I wish I could take away that fear and replace it with confidence.
