Our Harmony

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Our Harmony Page 10

by H. L. Logan


  When she finally made contact, I was unable to stop a desperate groan from escaping my lips. “Stop teasing me,” I begged. “I can’t take it.”

  Melany gave me a mischievous little grin, and gripped the band of my underwear between her teeth and slowly pulled them down until I was free. The room’s cool air kissed my opening—God, I was so wet. Melany teased me more, kissing so close to my opening, then slowly licking the excitement that was dripping out. I stared in wonder at the silver strings of my lust that clung to her tongue.

  I let out a satisfied groan, my eyes fluttering back as she pressed her tongue to my clit. I pushed my fingers through her hair as she licked me. Her steady rhythm and talented tongue were already drawing the climax out of me, and I had to fight with everything I had to keep it inside. I wasn’t going to let this go by quick. This was nothing like what we’d done that first night together. That had felt raw and emotionless, like it’d only been to serve a bodily need. Now, I ached for her. I didn’t want it to stop. I wanted to be here with her forever. I wanted her arms around me, her lips on me, and I wanted to know that I was hers, and hers alone.

  The spring inside me was gushing now. Playing my drums again had opened a door inside of me, and I could see a bright future that I’d forgotten could exist. I felt potential inside of me, I felt passion, I felt love. I wanted to open myself up for Melany, and I finally didn’t feel afraid to do it.

  I watched her doing everything she could to make me feel amazing, and when she brought her gray eyes up to meet mine I had to stop her from continuing. Her gaze was just too damn enthralling, too damn powerful, and it would’ve made me come right then and there if I hadn’t pushed her away. I slid down off the couch onto her lap and slowly pushed her onto her back. I pressed my lips to hers, giving them a flick with my tongue. I could taste myself on her, and it made me even more excited. I reached down and unbuttoned her shorts, and she helped me push everything off so that she was lying naked on the carpet. Kneeling over her, my eyes locked with her, I started to pleasure her with my fingers.

  Melany’s eyelids fluttered, and she let out a low moan. “Fuck, that’s good.” She looked down to admire my handiwork. “How are you doing that? Oh, my God.”

  “I’m pretty good with my hands,” I said, grinning.

  Melany laughed and kissed me. “Damn right, you are.”

  I spread my legs and moved my hips forward to join with her. The feeling of her warmth against me, her wetness mixing with mine was incredible. I used my thumb to massage her clit, and I could feel her throbbing with pleasure. We kissed, our tongues dancing against each other as we moaned and drank in each other’s breath.

  “Just a second,” I said, getting an idea. I went to my room and retrieved a pink vibrator from my drawer. It buzzed warmly as I pressed myself back to her opening, and then brought the tip of the vibrator down so it touched both our clits. Melany jerked and moaned, and we rocked our hips against each other as I held the vibrator in place. She held out her hand to me, and I took it, clutching it tightly as I felt the early waves of climax start to wash over me. We went slowly. I kept my eyes on hers, reveling in the changes of her expression. Her lips parted into a silent moan, her forehead crinkling up in a look like she was in disbelief that anything could feel that good.

  We synched the rhythm of movements, sending tremors of pleasure through me with every single twist and grind of our hips. It felt amazing to be perfectly in sync with her like that, with each shivering moan from my lips.

  I cried out her name, unable to hold back my climax any longer. It rocked through me, wrenching control from my body as everything was replaced with white-hot bliss. My legs shuddered and the arm holding me upright gave out, and we fell into each other’s arms. I could feel Melany’s body trembling and knew she’d come too.

  For a long time, all we could do was stay frozen there as we tried to catch our breaths. When I finally regained the use of my legs, I slowly untangled my thighs from hers and collapsed to the floor, my chest heaving. Melany laid next to me and drew me into a kiss.

  “That was insane,” she said. “That was the best I’ve ever had in my fucking life.”

  “Me too,” I said.

  She wrapped her arms around me and held me close. The steady swell and fall of her chest was soothing, and I realized how incredibly safe I felt.

  “Melany,” I murmured, nuzzling into her neck.

  “Kendra.”

  “I really trust you.”

  She kissed me on my ear, and then my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “I realized that I needed to not be afraid anymore. If I didn’t stop being scared, I’d regret it. I’d regret not being with you.”

  “I know how big this is for you,” she said. “We’ve only known each other for a short amount of time, but I’m so proud of you. I know you’ve overcome a lot.”

  “And I still have a way to go,” I admitted.

  “I’ll be right there with you,” she said.

  “I want to do what I can to help you, too.”

  She squeezed me. “You already are helping me. Now I know what it’s like to fall in love with someone.”

  I looked at her, surprised. Her gray eyes flashed, and then looked shy. “What?” she asked. “Kendra, you’re making me feel embarrassed.”

  “Can you say that again?”

  “You’re making me feel embarrassed.”

  I nudged her side and grinned. “Not that. The other thing.”

  Her face flushed. “I’m in love with you. I know, it’s crazy… but I think I knew it from that first night. Can that even be possible?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh—seeing her look so embarrassed was adorable.

  She frowned. “Hey…”

  I quieted her with a kiss. “I love you too,” I said.

  Melany stayed over at the house that night. She went through my fridge and cooked up an amazing pasta dinner with the meager ingredients I had, while I serenaded her with jazzy drum solos. Afterwards, I brought out my laptop and played some of my favorite music for her while we lounged together on the couch.

  “I had no idea you were such a good cook,” I told her. “How are you so perfect?”

  She laughed. “You don’t make wealth by spending money. In college, I was a real cheap-ass. The only time I went out was if it had to do with business or, um…”

  “Picking up girls,” I filled in. “It’s okay, it doesn’t bother me. I know that’s behind you.”

  “Yeah. So, I taught myself out of necessity.”

  “I mean, I learned some basic cooking too. But I was watching you. You looked like you were on a cooking show, or something.”

  “I guess that’s just how I do things.”

  “Never halfway, huh?”

  She nodded. “But I think it’s the same with you. If you didn’t do things with everything you had, there’s no way you’d be as good a musician as you are.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m definitely not that way with everything. And even drums. I quit, after all.”

  “You quit school, not drums. There is a difference.”

  “I don’t know. I think I’m always going to feel like I’m stuck, no matter how much I play. I know it probably doesn't make sense, but I just feel that way.”

  “Maybe you should go back? Finish what you started?”

  I shook my head. “Not going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “It took me this long with this much struggle just to get out of the rut that I fell into when Dr. Adler shut the door on me. I can’t deal with that again.”

  “Have you spoken to him since?”

  “No,” I said. “I don't want to see him again.”

  Melany eyed me. “Getting an answer might help you,” she said.

  “I’m not going back,” I said firmly.

  She was quiet for a moment. “Okay. I understand.”

  Things were finally going right, and I wasn’t going to risk losing it all a
gain. I might always feel like a piece was missing, but that was fine. I could still play, and play well.

  The next day after cooking us an awesome breakfast, Melany left to go back to her condo with the promise that we’d see each other sometime later in the day. Kaitlyn gave me a call and asked if I wanted to meet with her and Brianne to have a jam session and discuss future performances, so I invited them to come over to the house that afternoon before I had to go to work. They arrived an hour later with their instruments and amplifiers, and we set up in the living room by my drums.

  “This is exciting,” Brianne said. “Playing with a real drum set again.”

  “So, the first order of business,” Kaitlyn said, setting up her microphone. “Professor Barley contacted me yesterday evening, and she told me that she’s organizing another art show at Shadetree in two weeks.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “She wants us to play?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. Our performance was so popular that she wants to make music a main focus of the event. She’s going to feature other students from the music program at Beasley, and she wants us to be the final performance.”

  “Bad ass,” I said.

  Brianne took her electric violin out of its case and plugged it into its wireless transmitter. “The question, then, is what do we play?”

  “I bet the audience is going to want covers like last time,” I suggested.

  “Right,” Kaitlyn agreed. “So, do we resign ourselves to always playing covers, or are we going to do original, improvisational stuff like we used to do?”

  “Improvisation is a specialty of mine,” I offered.

  “Okay,” said Brianne. “Then why don’t we alternate?”

  “Down,” said Kaitlyn.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Alright. It’s settled, then. Alternate between covers and freestyle improvisation. That was easy.”

  I laughed. “The three of us are in sync, it seems.”

  Kaitlyn nodded. “The best musical collaborations can never be forced. I believe they can only occur when all the elements line up just right, and strangers cross paths at exactly the right time.”

  “Fate,” said Brianne.

  Fate. When I thought about it, it did feel like everything that’d happened to me had occurred because it was supposed to, like fate or destiny was guiding the way. Everything had happened to lead me up to this point, so that I could meet Melany and play with Kaitlyn and Brianne.

  The three of us spent the rest of the day just freestyle jamming. Since it was our first official practice together, we didn’t want to bog ourselves down with deciding on specific music just yet. We had amazing chemistry, but it was important that we spent time learning each other’s styles and quirks, and tuning our performances so that we could be in sync. That said, it did seem to come extremely easy for us. I’d played in quite a few amateur rock bands before, as well as jazz performance bands in school, and none of them had been as easy to sync up with as it had been with Kaitlyn and Brianne. Our first performance together had been amazing, but I was certain that with real practice, our second would be absolutely incredible.

  We played until the late afternoon and I had to get ready to go to work. When the two of them left, I went and checked my cell phone and found a missed text from Melany.

  > Melany: Hey. Hope the practice is going well. I love you.

  My heart skipped a beat reading those last three words.

  > Kendra: Sorry for the wait! Practice was amazing. We’ve been invited to play again at Shadetree. What have you been up to? I love you too.

  My heart skipped another beat typing out the last four.

  I changed out of my clothes and dug into my closet for my work outfit. After putting it on, I went to the bathroom to make sure my hair was okay. I untied my ponytail, brushed out my hair, and then re-tied it. My phone started to ring on the bathroom counter. Melany, I thought eagerly.

  I picked up the phone and felt a pang of disappointment when I saw that the screen said “Work.”

  “Hello?”

  “Uh, hi, Kendra?”

  It was Herschel, and there was something in the tone of his voice that I detected immediately that made my heart drop. He’s not happy. Bad news. What bad news?

  “Yeah? What’s up? I’m about to head out.”

  “Listen, I just want you to know that I did everything I could, but this decision came from Mr. Miyaguchi after he did his inspection.”

  “What?” I said breathlessly, my heart pounding.

  “I’m sorry, Kendra. We have to let you go. It’s nothing personal, really. I’m sorry.”

  “W-wait. Herschel, I can’t. I really… this job is paying for most of my rent and food, I can’t—”

  “I’m really sorry, Kendra. Really sorry. But the decision has been made. So, I'm sorry, but you’re no longer an employee here. We’ll make arrangements to send your last paycheck.”

  I tried to think of something to say, my mouth moving soundlessly. There was nothing I could say, so I hung up.

  My pulse echoed loudly in my ears. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, staring openmouthed back at me.

  Fired.

  How would I afford next month’s rent? I was barely going to cut it as-is, and now I’d lost the rest of the income for the month. If I didn’t find something fast, I’d be fucked. Absolutely fucked. My mind was racing, trying to think of a solution, but the terrible reality was becoming obvious. I’d already searched for jobs all over town and found nothing.

  You’ll have to move back home to Manchester. Back home with Dad. Away from Melany.

  My phone buzzed in my hand and I nearly dropped it onto the floor.

  > Melany: That is amazing news, Kendra! I can’t wait to see you guys play. I know it’s only been like five hours, but I fucking miss you. I’ve been doing work, re-examining my project. Looking forward to seeing you tonight.

  Just when everything was going so well, of course this happens. And it’s all my own fucking fault.

  I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t choke them back. They poured down my cheeks, my body shaking with violent sobs.

  8

  Melany

  I’m in love.

  It was crazy as hell, almost too bizarre to believe, but it was true. I’d actually fallen in love, and it was the most amazing-ass feeling I’d ever felt in my entire fucking life. I felt so free and unhindered by everything, like the future was open to any possibility I could dream of.

  I spent the afternoon totally demolishing my office. I tore down the cubicle-style dividing wall I’d put up and tossed it into the dumpster in the alleyway behind my building. I cleared my desk and moved it away from its spot so that the floor-to-ceiling window was completely open and free, and the clear, blue sky could take up the entire wall of my condo. I stood back, my hands on my hips, and admired the wide and spectacular view in front of me.

  This is how I’ll work, I decided. Screw the confines of the mini prison I’d made for myself in my home office, or the rigid-ass schedule I’d been following for years. I’d start over from scratch, and go at this thing free form.

  After finding a set of dry erase markers, I pulled a step stool up to the window and wrote in big, bold letters across the top of the glass, “PROJECT FREESTYLE.” Below that, I wrote “Crawford Mobile Operating System, workflow ideas.”

  I drew a large circle and labeled it, “Guidelines to follow.” Then I pulled out a big pad of sticky notes and started to write elements I knew I wanted this project to have. “Intuitive use,” “free-flowing interactivity,” and “a rhythmic experience” were the first things to form in my mind. I realized that I didn’t just want this software to be extremely functional—it needed to be as intuitive as someone freestyling on the drums, allowing them to jump seamlessly from idea to idea, desire to desire. BluTech’s software was utilitarian and perfect for business, so I would design something that fostered a creative, organic, and
artistic experience.

  I knew that this would be a new experience for me—organic and artistic wasn’t exactly my natural state. I wasn’t an artist, I fully recognized that this would mean leaving my comfort zone and abandoning all the foundations I’d built for myself in order to reach a new way of thinking. Such a crazy task would’ve probably left most people feeling overwhelmed, but I was confident that I could do it. That had always been one of my strengths—I had complete certainty in myself.

 

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