by Calia Read
Normally, the dress fittings and pre-planning was my time to take a breather and shake my nerves off. But today the house was filled with pre-jitter buzz. It wasn’t coming from me though. It was Mathias and Opa. It felt as if they had shifts. Mathias paced the studio floor while I played, staring down at the ground with heavy focus. And before and after I left my studio, Opa waited at the bottom of the stairs, asking how I felt practice went.
“Ow!” I hissed in a sharp breath and rubbed my left hip.
“Don’t you listen? I said to stand still.”
“I’m trying to.”
Oma moved around me, steepled her fingers together and tapped them against her lips. “A few more adjustments and I think we’re done.”
“Thank God,” I said underneath my breath.
Oma ignored me. “When this is finished, it will be prächtig!” Beautiful!
I smoothed a hand over the material. “It’s already a gorgeous dress.”
Oma beamed.
It really was. Designed to be an open-back gown with a neckline to my collarbone, the material hugged my curves perfectly. My favorite part was the small train. I could picture myself sitting behind the baby grand with the material fanned around me.
Also, I loved the color. The dark red made me feel sexy. Like a vixen hellbent on getting exactly what she wanted out of life.
“It will be even more perfect on the day of your performance.” Oma pulled away. With an index finger tapping against her lip, she looked over my dress thoughtfully. “I must say, it’s turning out better than I expected.” Oma looked at me mischievously. “Mathias would love this dress on you.”
At the sound of his name the past few sessions came to mind. We started going out of each other’s way, so there was no possible way the two of us could touch. When we talked it was strictly about music.
I pretended to dust off invisible lint on my sleeve. “I don’t think he will care.”
“I think he will care a lot.”
From the look in her eye, I wondered just how much she really saw between Mathias and me.
She continued to work on my dress in silence. A few minutes later I heard Opa’s voice coming from the kitchen. He’d been quiet this whole time. Just reading the paper in the kitchen. But now another voice had joined him.
I recognized it. My body instantly stiffened. That earned a jab from the sewing pin.
“Katja!” Oma scolded.
I barely registered the pain. “When did Mathias get here?” I asked.
I let her do her work. The whole time, I strained to hear exactly what the two of them were discussing.
Their voices were coming closer to the living room and then, all too soon, he was standing in the doorway. I watched him through the mirror. Mathias hadn’t noticed me yet. He was too absorbed in his conversation with Opa. They were having a heated debate over their favorite composers. Opa looked over at Oma and me idly and then quickly looked back.
“Ah, my beautiful, Katinka! Mathias, what do you think? How does your student look?”
His eyes collided with mine in the mirror. My legs threatened to buckle. The air was electric, making goose bumps rise on my skin. His eyes scanned my body slowly. Starting at my collarbone and drifting down, down, down all the way to my feet.
Staring me straight in the eye, he said, “Beautiful.”
My hands curled into fists so he couldn’t see them shaking. I stood there hoping that he couldn’t see the way goose bumps broke out across my skin. Or that he couldn’t see how badly my hands were shaking.
Mathias gave me one last lingering look before he turned back to Opa and continued to discuss music. It was like the moment between us had never happened.
“I think Katja’s hair should be up,” Oma said out of nowhere. When I shot her an imploring look, she just ignored me and thoughtfully looked at my hair. She glanced at Opa and Mathias. “What do you think?”
Opa looked at Mathias with confusion then back at Oma. “Mich?” Me?
“Ja, du!” Yes, you!
“Antje, I don’t know hair. Don’t ask me. Up, down. It’s all the same to me. But I will say her back is too low.”
“The back is fine,” Oma stated confidently. She directed her gaze at Mathias. “Tell me what you think,” she said bluntly. She gathered my hair up at the crown of my head.
My chin tilted up ever so slightly as I waited for him to answer. He continued to look at me with an inscrutable expression on his face.
“Up.” He held my gaze in the mirror. “Her hair should be up.”
Don’t you see what you do to me? I wanted to scream out to him. Can’t you feel this?
Oma let my hair drop and smiled victoriously. “Yes, Mathias. I think you’re right.”
K A T J A
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes and tried to relax.
Today was the day Mathias and I had been working toward. Countless hours in my studio. Days where I wanted to slam my hands down on the keys and walk out of the room.
While everyone took their seats in the concert hall, I waited in a makeshift dressing room, where broken chairs and stage lights rested against the wall.
The door was shut, but I could hear loud, thumping footsteps and muffled voices outside in the hall. A few times I cracked the door open, listening to the other performers play. To my ears, they all played beautifully. Which did nothing for my rapid heartbeat.
Normally, at this time, I would shut the world out and focus on each note and the feelings they gave me. Tonight my concentration was shot. I could hear the keys; I just didn’t feel them.
This would be the second time I had performed at Cuvilliés-Theatre. I’d been ten the first time. I remembered walking onto the stage, my footsteps whisper soft. I felt the tiniest bit of nerves, but the minute I played, they shattered apart.
Here I was. Nineteen and acting like this was my first performance. If the younger version of myself saw me, she’d laugh. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. My hands were shaking at my sides. I paced the room and took a deep breath.
“Hey.”
I stopped walking and looked over my shoulder.
Holy. Shit.
Mathias leaned against the wall, wearing a tux. It looked like it was tailored just for him. His hair was styled with gel, making the strands appear darker than usual. Gone was the stubble I was so used to. He still had an edge of charm, even freshly shaven.
A big bolt of lust planted itself into my stomach and slowly started to spread, making my skin tingle. I swallowed and looked away; it was the last thing I needed.
“Hi,” I said.
Mathias stepped into the room. “How are you?”
“I’m good.”
His green eyes were penetrating, and I could see that he was trying to figure out what was wrong.
Everything was wrong. My routine wasn’t working. Suddenly, I had visions of me fucking up the entire piece in front of hundreds of people.
Panic made my eyes widen. “I don’t look good?” I asked, my voice a bit shrill.
“No, no,” Mathias rushed. “You look … you look great. I just asked because you seem … upset.” He looked at me cautiously, as if I would attack at any moment. “Do you always get this nervous before concerts?”
Never. I wasn’t going to tell him that he was the reason for my bundle of nerves. Just the mere thought of him in the crowd watching me made my stomach twist.
“Sometimes.” I exhaled loudly and tried to block out the noise outside my door. “How many people are out there?” I asked.
“If I tell you, will it make you even more upset?”
“I’m not upset!”
He arched a single brow.
“I’m not,” I said, my voice lowered.
“It’s a packed house,” he said quietly. A small smile pulled at his lips.
This is a disaster.
I can’t do it.
Get me out of here.
Those were all the things I wanted to say to Mathias.
A man peeked his head into the room. “Katja, you’re on stage in five minutes.”
I looked at Mathias. I didn’t know why. What could he give me? All I knew was that his eyes bore straight into mine, and my pulse started to slow. I felt my body relax.
“Hey,” he said and reached out to rub my shoulders. “You’re going to do great.”
I knew that his gesture was supposed to calm me down, but it had the opposite effect. My heart kicked up a notch, thumping so hard I thought everyone in the building could hear it.
I swallowed loudly.
Mathias looked at where his hands rested and instantly snatched them away. He took a step back and cleared his throat, “You’re going to be great,” he repeated and walked out of the room.
I stared down at the wooden floors and took a deep breath. I could do this. I knew I could do this. I just had to pretend that Mathias wasn’t in the audience. I had to pretend that he hadn’t just touched me.
I had to feel nothing.
A petite redhead with a frazzled expression stuck her head into the room. “Ms. Schwartz, they need you.”
I took a step forward, before I lost my nerve. One foot in front of the other. Over and over and over until I finally stopped next to the closed curtain.
The redhead gestured for me to keep still and listened to her headset. The people around us spoke in hushed whispers, as a man speaking in a loud booming voice spoke to the audience.
My name was announced.
The redhead turned to me. “Viel Erfolgand.”
I gave her a small smile as the curtains opened. From the right side I walked onto the stage. Instantly, a hush descended across the room.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
My heels echoed on the floor as I walked across the room. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. Most of all, I could feel Mathias’ eyes on me. Without looking, I knew he was seated in the front row, right next to Opa and Oma.
Ignore him, ignore him, I chanted in my head as I made myself comfortable on the bench. When the train of my dress was adjusted and my back was perfectly straight, the light dimmed across the audience with one bright spotlight on me and the black, baby grand piano.
Someone coughed. Another cleared their throat. People shifted in their seats, but slowly, they all became background noise, and I slipped into a small, quiet space in my head where only the music and I existed.
Waves of notes rushed through me and I couldn’t stop. Not even if I tried. It was a rush, that feeling. The notes become sharper, stronger, and richer. Each sound invaded my body and I worried about nothing. I was afraid to blink, afraid that this entire moment would disappear.
I was on the last few notes.
I felt them.
My lips pulled into a thin line in concentration. My eyes narrowed slightly.
The last note.
Panting, I jerked my hands away from the ivory keys and dropped them onto my lap heavily.
There was this small burst of silence that came after every performance. It filled with a heaviness that made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. You could tell, just by the audience’s applause, if you made them feel.
The audience clapped so loud my ears started to ring. I smiled down at the keys before I stood up and faced the crowd. I couldn’t see much past the stage, but I still gave them a small smile, a small bow, and walked away. The whole time all I wanted to do was find Mathias in the crowd. I wanted to know what he thought. I wanted his approval more than anything.
I hurried off the stage before I looked over my shoulder to find his gaze.
K A T J A
I won first place.
€ 30 000.
And it was all thanks to Mathias.
The concert had ended over an hour ago, and the last few people loitering in the back were leaving.
Finally, I had the auditorium all to myself.
In the front hallway I could hear two female janitors sweeping and dusting, speaking rapid German back and forth.
Soon, I’d have to leave. My fingers drifted over the keys. Most of the lights were off except for the single one, shining on the piano and me.
After my performance I shook so many hands my fingers ached. I said danke more times than I could count. Mathias was nowhere to be seen. I looked for him in the crowd. Of course I did; there would always be this little part of me that held out unattainable hope for him.
Right now all I could think was: what next? Where did Mathias and I go from here? He was my instructor for six months and those six months were over. Would he stay or be on the next flight out of here?
Better yet, would those walls that he had built between us even exist now?
Those questions shouldn’t be a thought in my mind right now. I should be celebrating with Simone or even Lukas. I instantly saw their two faces the minute I stepped off the stage. Simone told me I played ‘well’ and for her that was the highest level of a compliment. Lukas gave me a long hug, and whispered in my ear that I was more than well. I was perfection. It was everything I wanted to hear. Just from the wrong man.
Simone and Lukas both invited me to go out to celebrate. I said no and I couldn’t seem to figure out why.
“You were breathtaking tonight,” a voice said behind me.
Suddenly my voice was stuck in my throat. Instinctively, I wanted to whip my body around and face Mathias. But I merely glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to act like I hadn’t searched for him tonight.
He took a step closer to the piano, still dressed in his tux. Mathias stared down at the keys as if they’d answer all his problems. And I firmly believed that they would. If he swallowed his fears for just a second and played, I thought all that anger would slip away from his body.
“Thank you,” I said.
“What are you still doing here? I think there’s a party somewhere in Munich in your honor.”
I lifted my head. “I don’t like going to them.” I paused. “What are you still doing here?”
“Watching you.”
I swallowed and idly pressed down on the keys.
“What’s wrong? You should be on a high right now.”
“Who says I’m not?” I replied.
I played my heart out. I put everything I had into that performance, and the whole time I knew that I was giving it all to Mathias. I had felt high off that performance. The aftermath was powerful. My hands were practically shaking because all I wanted was to celebrate with Mathias. I wanted to touch him, kiss him, and this time, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to go to the absolute furthest limit.
“You don’t look very happy,” Mathias murmured. He shifted closer to me. I could smell his cologne.
“I’m happy,” I said, making sure to keep my voice controlled, but miserably failing.
When Mathias looked at me like that, good instinct disappeared. I found myself wanting to rise up and challenge him.
Dare him.
Love him. And that was the most dangerous of them all.
I found myself standing up and standing in front of Mathias.
“Do you like my dress?” I asked quietly.
Mathias’ eyes narrowed imperceptibly. I could see him trying to figure out what game I was playing. But didn’t he get it? I wasn’t playing anything anymore. He continued to face me, arms crossed, his hip leaning against the piano. He never answered me.
I smoothed a hand over the material stretched across my hip. His eyes followed the action. I watched those irises go from calm to blazing in seconds. He raked my body from head to toe. By the time his eyes met mine my body tingled. Breathing became impossible and my attraction became a force of its own, clawing its way up to my heart, sinking its talons into me.
“Yes.” His voice was a deep rasp as if he was at war with himself.
I was playing with fire. I knew that. I’m sure there was a score of women before me that had been burned by him, but
I couldn’t seem to help myself.
I reached out. My fingers curled around his black tie. Mathias stared down at my hand for a second before he looked at me from beneath his lashes. He went completely still. He breathed through his nose and I knew I was getting to him. Slowly his walls were starting to crumble. I didn’t break eye contact, but the intensity of his gaze made my skin break out in goose bumps. Those eyes tended to be cold and harsh and sometimes cruel, but right then all I saw was desire, aimed straight at me.
My heart, my body, my mind thrived off that one look.
He shifted an inch closer. I tilted my head back so we never lost eye contact. I wrapped the material of his tie around my hand. It looped around, and on the second turn, it tugged against Mathias’ neck. That was just what I wanted. His eyes were tightly closed. I had this moment of fear that he was going to resist. He opened his eyes and moved forward. He was close enough that his lips grazed mine.
Trying to seduce a Sloan was like taming a wild animal. It wasn’t an easy feat. But if you finally got them to give up, they would give you everything they had.
“What do you want from me, Katja?” Mathias whispered.
My forehead touched his and I whispered: “I want you to touch me like you touched those keys.”
He closed his eyes. So did I. We stood there, panting. It was getting harder to breathe. The room felt hotter. I felt his resolve break. His body shuddered.
I opened my eyes just as he dipped his head down to mine. He kissed me hard, with enough intensity that I gasped. My lips parted, and he took that as an opportunity, sliding his tongue into my mouth. I felt his hands curve around my neck, his thumbs brushing against my hammering pulse. His tongue moved against mine slowly. It was like he was showing what he could give me if things went further. He sucked on my tongue, retreated, before he went back in. His teeth nipped against my bottom lip.
I dropped the tie, grabbed the lapels of his jacket, holding on for dear life. We pivoted and I was pressed against the piano. His leg was between mine and I could feel his dick against me. I found myself grinding against him. An anguished groan tore from his throat. I felt myself getting wet in between my legs.
“Katinka,” he groaned against my lips.