“I understand. I really am sorry. Did I—” he cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. You have nothing to be sorry about. You didn’t do anything. I mean I was the one on top of you. I was the one—”
“It’s okay.” He took another deep breath. He lifted the pillow to look and quickly put it back.
“You knew it was a bad idea?” I felt shame with that. A different sort of shame. I was the one who walked in on him in the shower. I was the one that was basically dry humping him in his sleep. I kept crossing the lines while he worked to keep them in place. How long until he’d want to stop working with me all together?
“You’re a beautiful woman. I’m a man. I’m alone a lot—not that it excuses it. Our bodies must have just—” He was rambling, talking almost to himself.
“Totally. It was a subconscious thing.” I situated the blankets to cover my smile.
For all of my talk about not caring for being called beautiful by men, when Devlin said it—as though it was just an obvious fact, as though he’d always felt that way, and it was just something he was used to—well, I was ashamed to say that it lit me up. I felt sexy. I hadn’t felt sexy in a very long time. I’d kept myself muted. He only knew me as a muted shade of brown, and yet he thought I was beautiful.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s only 5:30.”
“I usually get up at this time. I won’t be going back to sleep,” I said.
“Me neither.”
Our gazes clashed again, and I smiled. He smiled back, but it was tensed. “This could have been very awkward.”
“Thank goodness it’s not awkward at all. We can just get up and have coffee. We should check the roads. No need to ever talk about it again.” I shrugged. I played it off so he wouldn’t get freaked out. I’d pushed too far.
“Good idea,” he said.
“Right. So, I’ll just go make some coffee?” I asked.
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Okay.” I blew out air from pursed lips.
The arousal had worn off and I was left with a wired restlessness. I rolled my head side to side and stretched my arms over my head.
He cleared his throat. “I’m just going to go take a quick shower.”
“Okay.” I nodded with an expectant look.
He shifted before scratching at his beard. He subtly tilted his head toward the pillow in his lap.
“Oh. Right. Well, I’ll just go get that coffee going.”
A smile crept on my face as I made my way down the hall.
Chapter 22
Practice is not an option.
KIM
Weeks passed. Spring melted into summer.
Devlin and I worked every available weekend. My courage increased. I spoke up more and more. He always listened to my suggestions. Our relationship matured. My attraction to him was ever present, yes, but I was beginning to long for more. My fingers itched to check in with him and ask about his day. We texted almost daily now. At first, it was about music or our schedule, but now we were just talking. Sharing stupid memes about platypuses and music jokes. I learned more about life with an older brother and a set of wonderfully typical parents. He knew my schedule and accommodated it. He snuck me snacks when my blood sugar dropped. I would give him coffee and a solid hour to fully wake.
We still didn’t talk about the mask. We never referenced a time after the Smokey Mountain Suite would be complete.
I wanted so much more.
Now, June was passing in a blur. As I walked into the SOOK rehearsal on what I thought was just another Monday, I quickly realized something was up. Nobody was set up, and in fact, most of the musicians stood around whispering. Typically, strings would be plucked and tuned, horns would be tested, and drums thrummed.
I spotted Erin and made my way over. “What’s going on?” I asked.
Erin widened her eyes but kept her voice neutral. “We’re having guests.”
“Oh, no.” It was supposed to be a rehearsal. Nothing else was on the calendar. I purposely wore baggy boyfriend style jeans and a worn Death Cab for Cutie tee, hoping to avoid notice, per my usual plan.
I had been attracted to men before. It was easy to justify away pure physical attraction. But my feelings for Devlin were growing into something away from cotton candy closer to meat and potatoes.
“Where’s Devlin?” I asked Erin.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Devlin, huh?”
“Maestro. Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
I glared. “Your tone said plenty.”
“How are those practices going? Anything I should know—”
“Attention.” Devlin chose that moment to walk in the room. Saved by the baller.
“Remind me to circle back to that,” Erin whispered before running back to her chair.
“I will not,” I responded under my breath.
I sat down and stared pointedly at back the of Barry’s head, focusing on how his ears protruded much like Mr. Potato Head’s. I continued to focus on my breathing even as Devlin brushed past me, squeezing through the rows of chairs so close that the back of his hand brushed against my arm. His scent filled my nose. His scent that night weeks ago still haunted me, thick with arousal … Chills prickled up my arm.
Ah, nuts, I had it bad.
“We aren’t having the usual practice today,” he said in a normal voice. The room was so quiet, I’m sure the percussion section heard just fine.
I risked a glance up at him. It always took me aback to see him with his mask and hat on again. I had forgotten what he looked like with them. Or rather, I’d gotten used to being able to openly study his face as I pleased. I was greedy to memorize the details of his face. The deep indent of his upper lip. The few strands of gray mixed in his black eyebrows. The flare of his nostrils when he was particularly into a piece of music, even if I was the one playing. Especially if I was the one playing. The deep black of those piercing eyes was somehow more arresting without the distraction of the mask. Now, all I could see were his eyes narrowed in focus.
They flicked to me. I looked away as though I’d been burned. Too late. I’m sure he’d caught me staring. Way to play it cool.
When the room grew loud with whispers, he clanged the baton against the podium. He cleared his throat. “I understand that a break is in order. You’ve all been pushing yourself with these constant rehearsals. We could use a change of pace.”
Erin and I exchanged an intrigued look.
“We will be playing for a special group of visitors today.”
There were more whispers, so when he spoke again his tone was sharp with warning. “But even though this wasn’t planned, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give the best performance possible.”
I couldn’t identify a single person, but there seemed to be small groan of understanding that we would be playing for someone who could potentially give us money. Blah. A group of rich, old-money types were gonna come in and judge us, and here I was dressed like it was laundry day.
“I’m going to bring the guests in and then we’ll play the 1812 Overture. I’ll be back in ten minutes sharp. Be prepared to play immediately.” Right before he left the room, he stopped and turned to add, “This may be one of the most important performances the SOOK plays. I know you’re all more than capable. Make me proud today, but more importantly, make yourselves proud.” He stepped out and the door clicked closed behind him.
The room stayed silent in disbelief for several beats.
All at once whisper broke out as instruments were lugged out and unpacked.
“Was that a compliment?” someone whispered to my right.
“Something is up with him,” another added.
As instructed, we were all in position when Devlin returned. Violins lifted to chins, arms raised, we were ready.
I didn’t look, but behind me were t
he softs sounds of shoes shuffling as bodies filled the room. Across from me, the violins—who faced the door—relaxed their arms and a few confused smiles crossed their faces. Devlin lifted his arms, commanding our attention, and before I could look, we were off.
We played the music as we had a hundred times, but this time it was immediately different. Softs gasps and shocked whispers from our audience filled the air as we began. Devlin looked to the still-unseen guests and gestured with his chin as if to say come in.
To my utter shock and delight, in my periphery, I could see children move into the space in the front of the room. They walked slowly, with wide eyes, in clumps, afraid to make too much noise. I couldn’t help the smile that split my face. The children ranged in age, from maybe ten and up? Middle and high schoolers?
As soon as the horns and the drums started, they began to relax. Each child’s eyes greedily jumped from one instrument to the other. Suzie’s Ford, a cute guy in the back with salt and pepper hair, wore a Ford’s Fosters shirt and grinned with ease as the music built and built.
The kids relaxed and moved their arms to mimic the musicians and one brave kid even stood behind Devlin in a showy move of silliness to impersonate conducting arms. Devlin spotted his shadow. I thought he’d been about to scowl, but the surprises kept coming. Devlin gestured him to come up and take the baton. He helped guide the teen’s hand for a four-count then dropped it. Obviously, the kid couldn’t keep the beat but at this point, we didn’t really need it. Devlin didn’t seem to care that it might mess with the performance.
Erin’s eyebrows were high with shock, matching my own feelings. My chest swelled with pride, as though I’d had something to do with this.
As the music built and built, their gasps of delight grew wider. By the time the climax came, there wasn’t a single one of them who didn’t have look of shock and joy on their face.
My own smile couldn’t be wiped off and my heart ran away with the tempo. I remembered all at once what it felt like to love music. To hear the power of it. To remember the pure unadulterated joy that came with hearing an entire room come to life with sound. Music from nothing. Sounds from brass and wood and metal, all from talented musicians. I remembered that feeling. How it ached in your chest and made you feel both tiny and infinite.
I got so into the music, I just played, hardly needing to glance at the music. The others did too. When I looked around the room, they were all moving, dancing in their chairs, sweating and smiling like they felt it too. This was what music was all about. It was exactly what we’d all needed to feel and see. Hokey or not, there was a reason this song was a crowd pleaser.
By the time he cut off the last note my eyes were glossy, because duh, and the kids burst out with whoops and clapped and jumped up and down. Some pumped their arms and a few even shared looks of awe.
If I had hoped to nip my feelings in the bud, I’d been terribly mistaken. My feelings for Devlin just bloomed like a flower garden after a spring storm. Admiration was a lot harder to ignore than desire.
Chapter 23
Music contains life.
DEVLIN
Kim might have been right. Maybe, just maybe, yelling wasn’t always the best way to get results. The whole point of coming back to this place was to make it through one season. To play my music. In order to do that, my symphony would have to respect me. We all needed the reminder of the power of music. Seeing all the looks of joy from playing to the students awakened a feeling deep inside of me I’d long forgotten. People needed to respect me, or worse, trust me.
The booming crescendo of the piece made all the visiting students clap. Pride stirred me up instead of letting me down. They played with life and zeal yet unseen. It was exactly what I had been trying to force out of them, but this had coaxed it out so naturally.
The music ended and my arms lowered. Thankfully, my mask was firmly in place or they’d see the grin that matched theirs. It was one thing to try a different tactic; it was another thing to start smiling and palling around.
Once the group of observers behind me settled down, I said, “Thank you all for coming.”
The students clapped with whoops of excitement. Some of the more outgoing ones bowed dramatically. “Everybody, these are Ford’s Fosters, a local organization that specializes in showing the world to those who may not be able to see it otherwise. Let’s welcome them.”
The symphony stomped their feet in their own version of applause and it rolled like thunder in the room around us.
My gaze flicked to Kim. Her face was lit up with a huge grin and her eyes glistened. She wore her heart on her sleeve. Emotions shone out of her like sunshine even when she tried to diminish herself. She wasn’t looking at me; instead, she examined the group that hovered behind me. Did she remember mentioning her friend Suzie and her fiancé who ran this organization? It was an offhand comment made in one of the many conversations we’d shared these past weeks. Would she notice how closely I hung on to every word she said? Would it give away too much, too soon?
Turning back to the students, I said, “Feel free to walk around and ask any questions you like. Maybe some of you will be lucky enough to try an instrument.”
Before I finished, several had already made their way to the musicians. The drums were the most crowded, ever the crowd-pleaser, but almost all the musicians were soon matched to a student.
I paced the room like a surveyor. Small talk had never come naturally, but I fielded a few questions. I didn’t love to do it, but it had its place. It felt like a few of the performers looked at me with something more than fear or resentment. Something like begrudging respect at worst, and maybe just a few of them saw me in a new light at best. Kim had been right.
A gaggle of young girls surrounded me, each of them twisting a foot or twirling their hair while they batted their eyelashes. I was familiar with this, at least.
“Why do you wear a mask?” one asked bluntly. Her head was shaved all the way around the bottom and the top was a bright purple color.
“Insider secrets,” I answered, and they all giggled.
When I glanced up, Kim was talking to a young girl with long, thin braids, who hesitantly plucked at Kim’s strings. Even Carla seemed to be enjoying showing off to a kid with several facial piercings. The gaggle moved on to try their luck with a stand-up bassist.
“Devlin?” the voice came from my side.
“Clifford?” I asked.
“You can call me Ford.” The man I had only spoken to on the phone extended his hand.
“How are you?” I asked as we shook.
“I’m great. That was fantastic. I had chills. Thank you again for having us.”
“I’d love to say my motives were purely altruistic, but the SOOK needed this more than I would have thought.”
We both took in the scene around us.
“That’s the great thing about doing good. Everybody wins. Happiness only gets stronger the more it’s given out.”
“Truer words,” I said.
I studied the man at my side. He looked a bit like a stuffed shirt. I wouldn’t have expected him to be with a woman like Suzie Samuels. Their pairing was like a sleek black panther hooking up with Garfield the cat. But you never knew with love. There was no logic.
“How do you know Suzie?” he asked.
“I don’t actually. Not well. Her friend Kim from the SWS mentioned you.”
I wasn’t sure if Kim was hiding who she was, or who knew her only as Christine. When we looked to her, she waved with a happy smile at Ford. He smiled and waved back. So maybe she wasn’t concerned about it. Then again, she’d probably smile like that at just about anybody she deemed worthy.
She smiled at me like that sometimes.
Ford said, “I’ve only met Kim a few times, but I’m glad you thought of us. These kids seem excited. I wouldn’t have thought playing music would be so physical, but after that, I can see I was wrong.”
“Music is a powerful thing. Maybe for the kids who s
eem interested, we could arrange some private lessons or instrument rentals. It can be an expensive hobby, but maybe the SOOK can work something out.”
Ford’s eyes lit up. “That would be fantastic. Suzie mentioned that Kim does private lessons for free. I wasn’t sure how common that was.”
I kept my face impassive to hide this startling new information. “Most charge an hourly rate. But there might be a way around that,” I said.
“These kids are judged harshly sometimes.” Ford spoke with quiet intensity. “But they have just as much to offer as anybody else given the opportunity.”
“We all need someone to believe in us,” I said. My eyes flicked to Kim and back again. “The SOOK is striving to be a bigger part of the community.”
“Well, we appreciate it. Thanks again. Oh, Xander is getting a little aggressive with those big drums over there. I’ll talk to you more later.” He clapped me on the shoulder and shuffled over to the percussion section.
Warmth filled me. My mind struggled to recall the last time I’d acted in somebody else’s interest. It came up short. For so long, I’d been so caught up in myself and my own needs. I’d been goal-driven, but with blinders: the next big composition, the next big symphony. The SOOK was small. Knoxville was small. But for the first time in a long time, my mind didn’t recoil at the idea of sticking around a little while longer.
My gaze moved around the room and landed back on Kim. Just until the end of the season …
After the kids from Ford’s Fosters left, I hovered around, waiting for an opportunity to talk to Kim. Several of the musicians seemed eager to speak with me. It was surprising, though I supposed I had always rushed to and from our rehearsals without much chitchat. Making conversation was an exercise in futility. Usually, people either wanted to talk about themselves or about my mask; I was interested in neither. Admittedly, the conversations today weren’t too excruciating. My focus kept being pulled to Kim, who took her time packing up her cello. I kept trying to get her attention, but to no avail.
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