"Don't. You're good. You look amazing. He came all the way over here to get you. Oh my God, he's so freaking hot up close."
The last statement came out muffled because he was making his way onto the patio as she said it. I felt a blush threatening to rise to my cheeks and tried to make myself remain calm. Drake smiled as he caught sight of me, walking onto the patio with the confidence of someone who owned the place. He was wearing khaki cargo shorts with a vintage surfer T-shirt and leather flip-flops. He was drastically underdressed compared to the rest of us and yet still the most gorgeous one there.
"Hey," he said, coming out onto the patio.
I took a few steps toward him, and we stopped walking when we were standing a foot or two from each other. He looked down at me with an appraising smile.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi." His smile broadened and I stared at his beautiful, wide, curved lips, wanting desperately to feel them again. I let my gaze shift to his eyes, and could tell within the first seconds of eye contact that it was about to go down. He put a hand around my waist and drew me in, unconcerned with the people standing around who could see us plain as day. I looked around and giggled at the sensation of being pulled into his arms.
Before I knew what was happening, he was whispering in my ear. "Introduce me to your friends so we can get out of here," he said. He helped steady me before dropping the hold he had around my waist, then extended a hand to greet Megan since she was the person standing closest.
"I'm Drake," he said smiling.
"Megan."
"Is this your place?"
"No, I'm Addie's roommate, actually."
"The one she grew up with?"
"Yep. We go way back."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Megan."
"You too," she said, smiling.
I just watched her thinking that sometimes I wish she wasn't so dang beautiful.
"It's my place, actually," Lee said, coming over to meet Drake. The two shook hands and made introductions.
"It's nice up here," Drake said. Then he inspected Lee's face more closely. "Are you on the news?" he asked.
Lee smiled. "Channel 8 sports, at your service."
"That's cool," Drake said. "I see you on there all the time. You do a great job."
"Thanks," Lee said, smiling. "Can I get you a drink? Are you coming out with us tonight?"
"No. Thanks for the offer, but I just came to pick up Addie."
"Addie can't leave us, she just got here," Lee said.
I wanted to kiss him for making me seem like I was wanted at the party even though I was the new girl.
Drake smiled confidently and reached out to put a possessive arm around me. "Sorry, but she's mine tonight."
Lee looked at Drake like he respected his nerve, and then at me, waiting to hear my opinion. I shrugged at Lee. "He called right before we got here and I told him I could hang out. I thought I'd come out with you guys next weekend."
"Why don't you both come?" Lee said.
"I'm not dressed for it. I wouldn't have even left the house if I didn't want to come pick Addie up. Maybe I'll come with her next weekend."
Chapter 17
Drake drove the BMW that I saw parked at his house last week. I was curious if he made enough money making furniture to afford something like that, or if he worked with his dad and brother in their other endeavors. The Kelly's seemed sweet enough for me to assume they weren't bad guys, and powerful enough for me to dare not ask. I had to rely on the knowledge that I got through my last experience unscathed.
"Do you just make furniture for a living, or do you help your dad with his fishing business?"
He let out a little laugh. "I can't get on a boat."
"Do you get sea sick?"
"Not really."
I stayed quiet for a second because I didn't want to pry.
"The boat I rode on from Jamaica when I was ten went down in a storm. I hung on to a piece of debris for two days until someone found me." He was silent for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, but fuck boats."
"That's exactly how I feel about pianos."
He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at me. "Aw, don't say that. Please don't say that."
I'd forgotten how much I loved his slight accent, and was distracted by listening to it. "What?" I asked, since I hadn't actually heard the words he said.
"I said you shouldn't give up on it. It's not the same as what happened to me."
I laughed. "I promise you, I'd rather be stuck on a piece of debris in the Atlantic for two days than what happened to me in London."
He didn't speak right away, and when he did, it was with a matter of fact tone that I wasn't expecting. "First, no you wouldn't. And second, if I don't get over my fears, the world has one less fisherman. If you don't get over yours, the world misses out on—" he paused. "Well, you."
I had no idea what he meant by that. He'd only seen me play the one time and it was post-London, so it wasn't my best work.
"I think that's probably the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, but the world will be just fine without me on piano, I promise."
"No they won't."
I looked at him, and he glanced over at me with an expression that told me he wasn't joking.
"I'm really not letting you quit."
"Oh geez, you sound like my ex boyfriend. He left when he figured out I was serious about quitting." I looked at him from across the console. "Surely you understand that after what you just told me about boats."
"That's different."
"No it's not," I said.
"Well, I think I'm going to be able to help you get over it. Did your ex boyfriend say that? Did he get off his ass and help you?"
"There's nothing you can do to help me. It's nothing a piano coach or hypnotist can fix if that's what you're thinking."
"I'm not talking about that."
"What are you talking about, then?"
"I'll show you."
"Well now I'm curious. Why can't you just tell me?"
"Because we're almost to my house and I'd rather just show you."
I shook my head and let out a sigh, unable to even imagine what he could possibly be talking about. I was already dreading disappointing him when he found out that whatever he cooked up wouldn't work. "I never said I won't play for you or your family or whatever, but there's no reason to get your heart set on me taking gigs again. I'm okay with contributing in other ways."
"Addie, do you know what you look like when you play the piano?"
I did. I had seen myself on video. I knew I was good. It takes a certain level of confidence to make it the way I did, and at one point, I had tons of it. I remember knowing I looked good playing. It was part of my stage presence—part of why people hired me.
"I said I'd be happy to play for you guys," I said.
Even that was out of my comfort zone, and I was just hoping we could drop it. Thankfully, he took the hint. He asked me how my week had gone, and I told him all about going to tour the campus and how I was starting to study German. That almost got us on the piano thing again, but I thought quickly enough to ask him if he'd ever been to an Oktoberfest, and that led to other topics.
He pushed a remote to open the gate when we pulled onto their property. Then he pulled into the row of parking spots by the front door. "Don't open your door."
"Why?"
"Because I'm coming around to open it for you. Girls won't even let us be gentlemen anymore."
"All right, I'll let you be a gentleman."
"Good. Stay put."
He got out and ran around the back of the car. My door opened within the next few seconds. He put a hand out and I took it as I stepped out. "You look amazing," he said. I was feeling pretty confident in a little pale blue dress with brown leather flats and gold and pearl jewelry.
"I'm sorry I'm dressed like a bum, but I've been in the shop all day." That didn't come as a surprise. I could smell the wood on him; along with those other wonderfu
l masculine, woodsy scents I picked up on last time.
I followed him into the house.
Steven was right. There was definitely a get-together in place. There were twenty or so people standing around the main living room and kitchen area, and I figured there were more out by the pool. I knew Steven was going crazy wishing he could see what was going on. It was a cool scene. Everyone was dressed really casually, but they were all so very beautiful that it seemed fancy despite being casual.
They were beautifully casual, super nice people.
Definitely not pirates.
Drake took my hand and drug me to the other side of the living room. I could tell we were headed for the hallway that led to his shop, but Rory stopped us before we made it there. "Did ye bring her here because ye finished it?" he asked, putting a hand on Drake's arm. "Please tell me ye finished it."
I stopped short and watched the two interact. They were so similar in stature that my eyes just bounced back and forth as I looked at them both. Rory sounded like he already had a few drinks. His accent seemed even heavier than it was the last time, and I thought about Megan and how cute she'd think he was.
"Shut-up," Drake said.
"Are you bloody done with it?"
"You know I am or I wouldn't have brought her here."
"Thank Christ," Rory said. They both looked at me like they expected me to say something.
"I don't even know what you're talking about." I looked at Drake. "Did you finish the table or something?"
Rory rolled his eyes and started to say something, but Drake told him to hold his tongue.
"I can't believe you're bringing her to your shop again."
"It's none of your business."
"Next yer gonna marry her and have little wee ones running around," Rory said.
"Why don't you go find dad and tell him how bad his new haircut looks," Drake said.
"Yer probably gonna let her in yer room again too."
"Go get dad and tell him you think his haircut's shite," Drake said.
Then he pulled me behind him down the long hallway to his shop. I read enough romance novels to know that being the one exception to any guy's rule was the stuff of fiction. I was skeptical to believe I was special in some way because Rory implied Drake was breaking his own rules for me. At least that's what I thought was going on. I really had no idea. The sights and sounds of their house party were already a lot to take in, but the addition of his brother saying things like that, put me in a surreal, disbelieving state when we went inside the shop.
I looked around, taking notice of how the room itself looked like a work of art. It was a sprawling room with lots of metal and even more wood, and I was surprised again at how beautifully organized it was. I scanned the room until my gaze fell on a little bench. I started to just pass an eye over it, like I'd done everything else in the room, but something about it made me do a double take. I wanted to inspect it more closely.
It was set out in the middle of an open area that happened to be right under one of the lights. It looked like it had been placed there on purpose, and I started walking toward it without so much as a glance at Drake. The size and shape of this bench were familiar to me at once, but I tried to reason with myself that it couldn't possibly be what I thought it was.
"Is this a piano bench?" I asked. The closer I got to it the more undeniable it was.
"It's your piano bench." He paused for a second, but then continued, "It's magic in case you were wondering. All your troubles are over. You're welcome."
Drake gave a slight nod that made me smile. I felt instantly nervous at the thought of him expecting this to fix me, but mostly I was freaking in love with the beautiful piece of art, and right then nothing else mattered, even my dread. I smiled and bent to look at it.
I spent the next full minute studying the thing. It had hand-carved designs that were so beautiful and so very representative of me that if I was a talented artist, I would have had designed it myself. It was reminiscent of Alice in Wonderland, but understated and elegant.
"Is this seriously for me," I asked.
"Yes. Your name's carved in there somewhere." I went around it until I found the spot where the name Addie was carved into the wood. He knew as a pianist I always went by Addison, and I thought the use of my nickname might be a statement in and of itself.
"I don't know how Addie plays," I said, looking up at him after I found the name. "It's always Addison when I play."
"Exactly," he said.
"I thought you were making me a table."
He gave me a half-smile. "You didn't want that table," he said. "You just needed an excuse to come over here and meet me." He smiled like he was kidding around. "This is what you should have ordered, so that's what I made. It's my best work, and it really is fuckin' magic, so don't waste it. Use it. Sit on it when you play and you won't forget."
My gut clinched at the way his words struck my heart. I hated the word forget, and a promise to avoid it was the same as selling me a miracle potion. I wished beyond all logic that such a thing could be true, and thought maybe, just maybe a little piece of me thought it actually might.
"Drake, I honestly don't know what to say—"
"Try it."
I turned and plopped my rear end on the amazing masterpiece. It was polished perfectly, and I was able to slide and adjust easily. I wiggled and shook and slid from one end to the other. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was watching me, so I stuck my hands out onto a fake piano and played dramatically for a minute, sliding from one side of the piano to the other as I mimed.
"It's perfect," he said when I opened my eyes and looked up at him. "It looks like an extension of you."
"It feels like an extension of me," I said, as I let my hands roam over the carved designs. "I can't believe you got this done so fast."
"I can't either. I might have gotten a little obsessed. I've been in the shop quite a bit this last week."
"Is that what Rory was talking about?"
"He was just pissed because he and dad were home all week and I wouldn't go play basketball with him."
I thought about him devoting so much time to the bench and cringed, thinking about the price tag. "Hey, how much do I owe you for this?" I asked, trying to sound like I wasn't worried.
"Well considering that it's not what you ordered, I can't really get away with charging you for it, can I?"
"Oh please," I said. I looked at it and then back up at him. "I don't think you understand what I'd be willing to pay for this. If you knew that, you'd be thinking of some very high numbers right now, because there's pretty much no way I'm leaving here without this tonight."
"What makes you think you were leaving tonight?"
"Well, whenever I leave here I'm taking this thing with me."
"Yes you are. I'm glad you know that," he said, smiling at me.
"So how much do I owe you? Come on with it."
"Nothing."
"Don't be silly," I said. "I don't even know why you're saying that, but you're going to regret it. I know you spent a lot of time on it and I'm giving you money for it."
"No you're not Addie. It's my gift to the world. It has nothing to do with you."
"Oh please."
"Just promise me you'll use it."
I stared at him. "I don't even know what to say."
"Say you'll use it."
"I'll use it. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's the most thoughtful, special thing anyone's ever made for me. I'll use it because it would be an absolute crime not to."
"Exactly the same is true for you," he said.
Chapter 18
"I was just joking about your table, by the way. I'm still planning on making that for you," Drake said.
I was unable to take my eyes off of the bench. "No, really—you don't need to worry about that," I said, dazed by how taken I was with his work. "You were right about me not really wanting it. I mean, not that I didn't want it, but this bench is
way better than that." I stared at it. "I can't even imagine what I owe you for this," I said. "It's priceless."
"I can't let you pay me for it," he said, "or the magic doesn't work."
I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him. "You have no idea how much I hate owing people. It's a curse from my dad. I totally stress about it. You'd be doing me a favor if you let me pay you for it."
"Yeah—no."
"Why?"
"Because it's a gift. Apparently you're terrible at taking them."
"I'm terrible when I've done nothing to warrant such an elaborate gift from you. Paying for my dinner might be a more suitable gift for people in our situation."
"What situation is that, exactly?" I gave him an exasperated look. "The situation of barely knowing each other."
"I thought I met you pretty good the other night. Or is that just how you greet everyone."
I narrowed my eyes again. "I just mean that—" I hesitated. "I don't know what I mean. I guess I'm just bad at receiving gifts, but it really does seem like too much."
"Well too bad."
I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to get across how much I loved it.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go hang out with everybody. You can check it out later."
"Drake?"
"Addie." He smiled and stared at me as I stood and crossed to the spot where he was standing.
"I need you to know how much I love it."
"I do."
"Good, because I love it like crazy."
"I know." He was wearing the easy smile that looked so natural on him, and I just stared at him—at his mouth, and jaw, and his perfect face.
"How long did it take you?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter," he said grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the shop and back into the living room.
We walked down the long hallway in silence, but he never let go of my hand. I wondered if he felt the same electricity I did when we touched. "I'm glad you're here," he turned and said to me just before we made it into the main living room.
I squeezed his hand. "Me too." For whatever reason, both of us took my squeeze as me saying I wanted to stop holding hands, so we let go, even though that was not at all what I was trying to do.
Finding the Magic (Tom Kelly's Boys Book 1) Page 12