The Treble With Men

by Smartypants Romance

  Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to be anything you’re not. But let them see your humor. It might get you better results. There’s talks of people—”

  “I know what they say about me. And I couldn’t care less. They have no power. They don’t like things the way they are, they can leave. I’m not changing who I am to make them more comfortable. They’re all replaceable.”

  A look of hurt crossed her features. “Me too? If I left, you’d easily replace me?”

  I went to the cabinet for a glass. “This isn’t about you. You committed to me. To this September showcase. If you can’t handle the pressure, tell me now before we go any further.” I filled the glass of water and immediately chugged it down.

  “So quick to anger.” She shook her head, still leaning against the counter. “I’m not saying that. But treating people like they’re instruments, and not living, breathing, feeling humans will only make them hate you.”

  My heart hammered in anger. A horn sectioned blared in my ears.

  I growled. “Being funny and wearing a mask are sort of contradictory.”

  Her gaze moved to my fisted hands before she looked up at me through her lashes. “You don’t have to wear the mask.”

  “I think you’re forgetting, I’m the Maestro. The conductor and the composer. Sorry if I made you think anything else.”

  Her face drained of color. “I haven’t forgotten. Not for a second.”

  Chapter 18

  Luck is timing and preparation.

  KIM

  Our next practice was considerably less awesome.

  My comments about his behavior had gone too far. I regretted relaxing so much around him. The veil between here and symphony rehearsal often felt so thin I forgot it was still there. My thoughts flowed so freely. I shouldn’t have made comments about who he should be in rehearsal. So many lines were crossed this weekend.

  We rehearsed and I did my best. When we got to the area I had mentioned working on, I had lost the courage to bring up my suggested changes. There was disappointment on his face, but I didn’t have the emotional energy to defend myself.

  I didn’t get any feedback when we broke around nine that night. It had been a long time since I’d played that many hours in one day and my body felt it. And though it would make sense that my body would be exhausted, I was filled with anxious energy after dinner—cold cut sandwiches. Separately. He shook off my invitation to share a meal under the pretense of having calls to make. Maybe that was true, but it likely came back to boundaries. Message received.

  My body hummed with extra energy that needed to be dispelled. Between the storm trapping us in the house, the rehearsal, and that massage earlier—which I absolutely refused to think about—my mind felt like a caged bear. But not the peaceful sleeping kind; more like the kind left starving and with a raw steak just out of reach.

  I went in search of adventure.

  The halls of the house were endless. Every turn down a new hall led to more empty rooms and closets. And yet, not a home gym in sight. A body like Devlin’s in a house like this had to have one.

  “Can I help you?” His deep, brusque tone cut through the air.

  A yelp escaped me. My hand shot back from the door handle to the next room. It was as though he’d materialized by my thoughts alone. Thank God, I didn’t actually have that super-power, or he’d pop up embarrassingly often.

  “I was looking for a gym. Since I’m stuck here another night, I need to work out,” I said, sounding short to my own ears and with just a pinch of salt. It wasn’t his fault we were trapped another night and yet …

  Sticking with the bear in the cage metaphor, him waltzing up to me right now was like a random hiker jabbing a stick between the bars.

  “I don’t have one,” he said coolly, his hands tucked deep in the pockets of his jeans.

  His biceps sort of winged out to the side. His chest muscles were stretching the capacity of his T-shirt. The man didn’t get that body just through conducting the symphony.

  Maybe I accidentally stared too long at his body, or maybe he was messing with me, but he added, “I swim.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Me too,” I said too quickly.

  “I have a pool downstairs. You can use it if you want.”

  “I didn’t bring a suit,” I sounded disappointed to my own ears.

  He crossed his arms. “You want to swim or not?”

  Ten minutes later, he was in his swim trunks and I was in my bra and undies. That had escalated quickly.

  Here was the thing: I did not wear sexy underwear these days. I’d gone through a thong phase during my Jethro era, but then I’d discovered the comfort of laser-cut satin full-coverage panties. Same idea for the bras. The point was, that if I wanted to rationalize this situation, I could say my granny panties and full-coverage bra were far more concealing than many swimsuits.

  Rationally, that should have helped. But it didn’t. I was in my skivvies. Devlin basically was too. We were just a few feet apart with only Jesus and a couple of flimsy layers between us. Forget eye contact—I could barely look at his nipples. There was no safe space to focus on, so instead, I dived directly into the pool. Maybe he had been looking at my body. What would it mean if he had been? How would I feel depending on what I saw on his face? Best to not find out.

  The water was uh-may-zing. Perfect temperature. Was it saltwater? My body felt deliciously buoyed.

  The whole room was insane. At this point, cherubs could lower from the ceiling with tiny little harps and I wouldn’t even be surprised. It was an underground grotto, seemingly cut straight from the rocks of the Smokies. It could be a natural hot spring, for crying out loud. Natural rock formations were all around us, complete with stalactites and stalagmites.

  Devlin smiled at me from next to the pool when my head bobbed back out of the water.

  “What?” I asked, squinting the salty water out of my eyes.

  “Interesting.”

  “What?” I asked, drawing out the word.

  “I didn’t peg you as the jump-right-in sort of gal.”

  “Don’t paint me with that brush. And don’t you dare say that I’m not like other girls. Because if you do, I might go off on you like I did Wes,” I said all this while kicking softly to stay afloat, aware that my nude color bra was now just plain nude right under the surface.

  He held up his hands. “You surprise me is all.” He shook his head with a laugh before lifting his arms above his head to stretch side to side. My own personal Colin Firth as Darcy. Back here again. Me staring, him existing. I let myself sink until my head was under water. Unfortunately, I didn’t stay there because … saltwater. I popped right back up like a fishing bobber.

  A second later the water splashed into my face as he cannon-balled right next to me.

  When he came back up, he shook his head once to dispel the water. His dark hair sprayed a stream and formed a peak over his forehead. Almost immediately it started to curl. He looked as happy as a goofy puppy with a chew toy.

  “Oh, I would have never pegged you as a cannon-baller,” I mocked.

  “I’m a total baller.”

  I groaned at his stupid joke. The weirdness of earlier seemed to be dissipating but I still struggled with his idea of boundaries; one minute they’re firmly in place, the next he’s suggesting swimming together. It was a complicated situation, and I got the impression he wasn’t even sure how to handle it. I’d follow his lead.

  My hand gripped the edge of the natural stone and I kicked softly, enjoying the lightness of the water. He came up next to me. His dark lashes were clumped together in little spikes and a drop of water ran down his face to his neck and continued lower. Ah, to be on that journey …

  “I’m sorry about what I said while we were playing earlier,” he said.

  “I did not expect that,” I said honestly. “You surprise me too.”

  “I don’t think you’re replaceable,” he added seriously.

  “Thanks,”
I said.

  His gaze moved from my hair to my chin and cheeks and nose and back to my eyes. “I’m trying to keep strict boundaries between us. The symphony and me. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. Favor is too easily swayed. One second, you’re loved by all. The next, you’re totally forgotten.”

  “I’m sorry I stepped out of line. I didn’t mean—”

  “You didn’t. I asked for your help.” He shook his head. “Let’s move on.”

  My heart constricted with his vulnerability. I wished I could assure him that nobody would care about the man behind the mask, but I couldn’t promise that at all, could I? I ached to reach out and hug him but instead I said, “Race you?”

  “What?”

  “On your marks.” I braced the wall.

  “I’m not racing you …”

  “Chicken.” I got my feet ready to push off.

  “… because it wouldn’t be a fair race. I’d obviously wipe the floor with you,” he rushed out.

  “Get set.”

  “Your funeral.”

  “Go!” I ducked under the water and shot off the wall. He scrambled in the water next to me. I focused on my perfect stroke. It was like practicing scales, done enough times to come naturally.

  We met again back at the wall where we started. We were both panting and grinning like fools. What was it about a swim race that brought out the child in a person in the best way?

  “It was a tie,” I panted.

  “Only because you cheated. If you hadn’t, I would’ve won.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

  He leaned on the wall with arms crossed. “Okay. You’re a solid swimmer.”

  “Oh my goodness,” I said clutching a hand to my chest.

  He put his hand on my shoulder, his eyes searched me. “What’s wrong? Cramp?”

  “No. I just—I think you just gave me a compliment.”

  He dropped his hand slowly into the water as his face formed a scowl. “I rescind it for unsportsman-like conduct.”

  “Too late. I heard it. It’s going to my head as we speak.”

  Using a cupped hand, he splashed water in my face. I sputtered and kicked him.

  “Ouch! Is swimming your workout of choice?” he asked as he backed out of kicking range.

  “Yes.”

  “You work out a lot?”

  “Yeah.” I felt weird talking about it, but it was so crucial for me. I added, “It helps to focus on something. If I don’t work out, I get—” I hesitated.

  “I get it. Me too. Mental health.”

  “Yeah. My parents were pretty strict after …”

  “After you got out of rehab?” he asked bluntly. There was no pity or judgement in his tone. Just as though he were asking about my last dental checkup and not the worst year of my life.

  “Uh, yeah. I wasn’t sure if you knew about all that.”

  “I’ve heard some things.” His gaze moved to his own arms, crossed and resting on the edge of the pool.

  “Ah yes. Kim, the wild child who ruined it all.” Emotion cracked my voice. I wanted one person who knew me as me and not my past.

  “What actually happened?” He returned his gaze to hold mine. No judgement.

  My face scrunched up. “Are you sure you want to hear?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked,” he said sincerely.

  “I was on a set track since birth. I’d always been uber-motivated. Great grades. Acceptance to Juilliard. Everything was going great. Until it wasn’t.”

  He nodded. “It’s a lot on the shoulders of a kid.”

  “Yeah, and I skipped a grade, and with a late birthday too. So, I was sixteen and had spent a whole lifetime up to that point focused on that one goal. Graduate and become first chair of an orchestra like the New York Philharmonic or somewhere huge.”

  He didn’t say anything, just listened. My goodness, a man who listened. Call the church, we had a miracle on our hands.

  “One day, at the start of my Senior year, it all just felt like too much. I’d just gotten home from school. I had to get ready for my private lesson and it suddenly it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Like I couldn’t get off my bed and even grab my cello. That weekend I went to a bar I knew wouldn’t check IDs. I was looking for trouble, and I found him. His name was Jethro. I fell hard and fast. He was beautiful and charming and so sweet.” I sighed with a little blush.

  Jethro hadn’t loved me, but he had loved my body. The fallout of my disastrous choices overshadowed so much of the greatness of those short few months, but there were revelations too. My body had been a mystery before Jethro, something I used to accomplish a goal. After that, it was like I had this super-power. I could feel pleasure whenever I wanted. More than that, another person could bring me pleasure. I’d felt so many things. The man had opened me up. And he’d been damn good at it. I’d discovered what I liked and didn’t like.

  Thinking about all this reminded me it had been a while since I’d had that with another partner. I was … well, I was the bear in the cage and sex was the steak. You know what? Forget the bear thing. Truth was, Jethro had given me an appetite and I hadn’t been sated since.

  “Unfortunately, he moved with a fast crowd—a terrible motorcycle club. He was a lost soul then too. His daddy was bad news. Anyway, I got hooked on the feeling of riding with him. That unpredictability and wildness. I skipped lessons, and then school. I was absolutely addicted to not having any plans.” I closed my eyes and remembered the vibration of the bike as it rattled my chest. The open road ahead with nothing to do. That feeling like my whole life was ahead of me, and I didn’t have to make a single damn plan.

  “But this story isn’t a happy one.” He didn’t quite ask.

  “No. I started doing drugs. At first, I told myself it would help with my grades and relieve the pressure. But it quickly became apparent that I was no longer in control.”

  He frowned with a nod.

  “I was lucky that my parents caught on fairly early. Some of the kids I partied with didn’t have anybody looking after them and never got out. But my parents found some drugs in my cello case. From there, it was off to rehab for the rest of my senior year. No more scholarship. No more first chair. I’d messed up. My whole reputation was ruined for a few months of fun.” I let out a long breath.

  It was a while before he spoke. Maybe I had unloaded too much, too soon. I didn’t tell him everything, but it was nice to get this much off my chest. My filter was clearly gone around him.

  “I think the past is tricky. It shapes so much of who we are. Mistakes, especially. But they’re necessary, you know? It’s a fine line between learning from them and being indebted to them.”

  I held on to his every word.

  “But you can’t let it hold you prisoner. It was just a lesson, not a life sentence.”

  Goosebumps trickled down my neck. “That’s true. It’s hard, because my whole life changed after that. I didn’t really feel like I could trust myself anymore.”

  He shook his head. “You can trust yourself. You just have to listen first. Listen when your heart tells you what it wants.”

  The air between us grew charged. What did I want? My body seemed to want something that my mind wasn’t ready for. My heart hammered and I felt so heavy for somebody floating. I focused instead on why we were here: his music. Outside of that, I wasn’t sure. I had lived so long in fear of dreaming too big. I wasn’t ready to think about all that.

  “Thank you,” I finally settled on. “For letting me talk about it. It’s this big black spot on my life. Most people ignore it or actively change the subject because it makes them uncomfortable.”

  “Take it from someone who also has a big black spot. The opinions of those people don’t matter. It’s just your people that matter. The people who love you as you are. The real you.”

  The SWS immediately came to mind. They couldn’t care less about my success or failures. They just loved me.

  “You’re right,” I said. �
�So wise for a masked man.”

  “Har har.”

  I wanted so desperately to take the focus off me and move it back to him. I wanted to learn everything about this man.

  He must have sensed my body tensing. “Don’t you dare,” he said.

  I wiggled my eyebrows. “On your marks.”

  We grinned at each other.

  “One more lap,” he said.

  “Fine.”

  “And one more thing, and this is really important—” He dunked his head and shot off the wall.

  “Cheater!” I yelled, but he was already gone.

  Chapter 19

  Fear holds you back.

  KIM

  The swim with Devlin was cleansing. When we were relaxed around each other it felt like we were old friends. That’s how it felt being with the SWS. The girls and I could go months without meeting up—once we even went almost a year—but then the second we were back together, it was like no time had passed. With Devlin too it was as though our souls were old friends. Only my evolving desire for him felt new.

  The shower that followed our swim melted my bones. I fell into bed in a pair of his sweatpants and the T-shirt I’d worn the night before. I was just on that happy verge of sleep when a bang rattled the house. It cracked through the air out of nowhere.

  My eyes shot open with my heart pounding in my ears. My arms gripped the comforter as though they could keep me from whatever danger approached. My sleep-addled brain couldn’t comprehend the sound until a second later when the room lit up as lightning flashed, followed immediately by a clap of thunder that rattled the windows.

  I flipped over to scream in the pillow, kicking my legs. I was so tired. My body was desperate for sleep but—

  CRASH!

  It wasn’t that the thunder scared me. It just stirred up memories from that final night at camp. Normally, I’d just crank up the music or put on headphones. But I didn’t have my headphones.