Rhythm, Chord & Malykhin

by Mariana Zapata

  I sighed. "Twice this week, Sassy. Consider yourself lucky."

  Sacha stopped walking. "Should I call Guinness? Tell them about your new record?"

  I let go with one hand and bopped him on the nose. "Jackass."

  * * *

  "He doesn't know," I told him.

  Sacha made a face. "He knows."

  I couldn't help but snort as we looked at my brother flopping around the floor like an a little kid on too much candy, talking to Gordo about who knows what. We'd been sitting behind my merch table for about half an hour counting T-shirts and talking about the worst injuries we’d ever had after I had shown him the huge bruise below my kneecap from the night before. The fact that Carter was sitting behind TCC’s table, doing the same thing by himself, wasn’t lost on me, but I promised myself I’d help him out later once my assistant was gone.

  "He knows he has blood, but he doesn't know what type," I clarified. “If he ever ended up needing a blood transfusion and he couldn’t call my mom, my sister or me, he’d end up dying when they gave him a different type.”

  "Nah, he knows. He has to."

  Eli threw a drumstick in the air, and then tried to catch it by pulling the waistband of his pants out to catch it… with his ass crack. "No way."

  Sacha and I turned to look at each other and we each made a weird face.

  "I bet you twenty bucks he can’t even name the different types,” I told him with a snort while watching my brother try his trick again.

  He slapped my back gently and nodded. "Deal." Sacha brushed off his

  pants, winked at me and yelled across the venue, "Eli!"

  Eliza turned to look at him before extending his arms out of his sides. "What's up?"

  "Help me win twenty bucks—”

  I hit his arm. “You damn cheater.” Of course Eli would put in some effort to try and remember if he thought I’d lose money.

  “—I can’t remember what blood types there are. Do you know?”

  My brother frowned. "Blood types?”

  I snickered and smacked Sacha in the side with the back of my hand.

  "Yeah. There’s OB, right? What else?”

  OB? What the hell? On the other hand, a wrong suggestion was fair enough, it wasn’t exactly cheating.

  Eli coughed. "Uh, A? Positive? B uhhummum…”

  "What was that?" I asked him, trying my best to hold back a laugh.

  "A minus, aaaahhummmhhhmmhmm," he garbled again, saying the something really loudly and then trailing off in volume as soon as he kept making noises. I couldn't help but laugh, which only made Eli frown again before shooting me the finger. "I don’t know! What do I look like? Some kind of blood professional?”

  Blood professional? I slapped a hand over my mouth and ducked down so he wouldn’t see me laughing at his stupidity.

  "What did I tell you? He’s so smart when he wants to be, but when he doesn’t…" I told my gray-eyed friend through my giggling. "If you ask him what day our Mom's birthday is, he'll tell you April thirty-first."

  Sacha smiled. "But there's only thirty days in April."

  I waggled my eyebrows. "Exactly. I have to text him to remind him of every birthday in our family." I thought about it for a second. “If we weren’t born on the same day, he wouldn’t know what day my birthday was. That’s for sure.”

  “What day is your birthday?” he asked.

  “December second. Yours?”

  “August thirteenth.”

  “I’ll have to make sure to remember and send you a One Direction birthday card or something.” I smiled at him.

  He blinked. “You’re too generous.”

  I shrugged, still smiling. “What about you? Do you know your family’s birthdays?”

  "I know everyone’s. If I forgot, my sisters would probably skin my nuts." He paused and thought about it. "Well, Dena, my eldest, would. The rest would put a personal ad on Craigslist for a one-night stand, men only, and put my number as the contact," he laughed.

  "That's a good one." I laughed too. "I'll have to remember that in case you ever piss me off."

  He mocked a gasp. "Me? Piss you off? Whatever do you mean?"

  "Shut your mouth." I elbowed him in the rib. "It's bound to happen one day. You'll catch me on my period again or something."

  Sacha stuck his tongue out at the corner of his mouth. "I survived eighteen years with my sisters, and you’re a lot nicer and prettier than they are. We’ll be fine.”

  My cheeks went hot, and yet again, I told myself not to take what he was saying seriously. He was nice. Unbelievably nice. Nice people said sweet things to others because that was something they did. I wasn’t going to be an idiot and misinterpret it. “Yeah, sure, Sassy.” I blinked at him, trying to school my cheeks so that they weren’t traitorous blushing bastards. “I’ll let you pay me my twenty dollars later, you don’t have to sweet-talk me.”

  * * *

  Later that night, while TCC was performing, Eli trailed to the merch area to sign some autographs.

  "Flabby?" he yelled into my ear while I was helping a fan, with one eye on Sacha in his prim and proper clothing as he moved across the stage.

  "What do you want?"

  A finger slicked across my bottom lip. "You need a bib," Eliza laughed.

  I snickered, shooting him a dirty look. "Leave me alone. You don't see me raining on your parade when you're flirting with girls."

  He started to say something else, but Sacha started talking into the microphone about some guy in the audience wearing a Christmas hat and how Christmas was his favorite holiday. "But it's not my favorite day in the year," he said with a smile at the crowd.

  Eli leaned into me. "It's steak and BJ day."

  I leaned away from him, smirking. "That's your favorite holiday," I told him, earning an excited nod in response.

  The opening rift of one of their songs swept through the venue as Sacha stood on one of the floor speakers and pressed the microphone against his lips. "December 2nd!" he screamed into it before the loud crash of the drums signaled the rest of the song.

  What in the hell was happening?

  "My birthday? Is he gay?” Eli asked me with a confused look on his face.

  I punched him in the stomach just for being an idiot.

  Chapter Seventeen

  It was the bang, bang, bang on the door that scared the shit out of me.

  The fact that it was two o’clock in the morning only added to what-the-hell-is-happening panic that burned through my thoughts.

  We’d gotten back to the hotel an hour ago. It was long enough for me to shower and begin to wind down from the hectic sold-out show in Perth. The fact that half the dates in Australia were sold out was both exciting and daunting.

  Mostly exciting. Australians had the sexiest accents I’d ever heard. Whoo.

  “Who is it?” I called out a little hesitantly, wishing I had a knife or a bat or at least a rock I could chuck nearby. Then again, every room around mine had one of the guys on the tour in it. If I yelled loud enough someone would come, right?

  Eh. I could use a lamp if push came to shove.

  Someone—or something?—scratched at the door lightly.

  Jesus Christ. “Seriously, who is it?”

  There was more scratching.

  Damn it! “Eli, I swear to God—”

  A loud laugh pierced through the door. “It’s me.”

  Me.

  Sassy.

  I groaned and grumbled climbing off the bed. “Damn it, Sacha. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “Yes.”

  Yeah, I rolled my eyes, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t greedily sucking up the attention, especially after what he’d said during The Cloud Collision’s set. His favorite day was my birthday? That wasn’t him calling me cute or saying something else along those lines. So what the hell did it mean? What the hell did it mean, damn it?

  It wasn’t like I could talk to any of the monsters, or even Carter, about it. It als
o wasn’t as if I could hop onto Skype and get Laila’s input because of the time difference. This wasn’t an e-mail-worthy conversation; it required a face-to-face conversation.

  I had no one.

  So…

  I wasn’t going to bring it up and possibly make our friendship awkward until I could figure out how I was supposed to handle what he’d said and might have meant.

  “One sec, Sassy pants,” I said in the middle of turning the deadbolt. I’d barely cracked the door when his smiling face greeted me. “Hi.”

  “Princess,” he said with a long blink of his cool-colored eyes as he pushed the door open and slid inside.

  He toed off his shoes the instant after he’d kicked the door closed. Before I'd even locked it, he was climbing onto my bed and reclining against the headboard. My mind said, “Danger!” But my ovaries screamed, “Naked! Now!”

  Instead I did what any friend would have done: I jumped onto the bed as if him showing up to my room in the middle of the night was no big deal, and sat cross-legged next to where he took a seat.

  Fresh-faced and damp-haired, he pushed his black locks straight back before rubbing at one of the shaved sides of his head. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

  “I was still trying to wind down.” Plus, he’d banged on the door so loud that it would have woken me up even if I’d been passed out, but I kept that to myself. “What are you doing up?”

  “Couldn’t sleep, and I’m not in the mood to get any writing done tonight.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Writing your next album?”

  He nodded. “This tour is for the last record we have with our label and our contract runs out in exactly a year; we want to release another album the day after it’s over. I wanted to go ahead and get started on the songs now.”

  “You’re self-releasing it?”

  “Yeah. I’m pretty certain we’re going to have to sue our label for back royalties they owe us afterward.” He winced.

  I made a face that he mirrored.

  “It’ll be fine,” he assured me.

  “I’m sure it will.”

  He nodded, rubbing at the side of his head again as his eyes strayed to the chunk of my head that had met a death with Carter’s clippers weeks back. Sacha tipped his chin up. “Are you planning on shaving it again?”

  “No. I’m lucky if I get two haircuts in a year; keeping up with it is too much trouble. I’ll just look dumb until it grows back in. And it’s probably way too cool of a haircut for me anyway.”

  “You’re cool.” He smiled. “Most of the time.”

  I sort of choked but still laughed. “Oh, thanks for such an awesome compliment.”

  “It’s what I’m here for.”

  I rolled my eyes playfully, settling my back against the headboard. “Sometimes I feel like I’ve known you my entire life, and other times, I ask myself what the hell I was thinking trying to be your friend.”

  The grin that took over his mouth astounded me. “I’ve thought the same about you. What would my life be like if you hadn’t kicked me in the ass?”

  I crossed my eyes and groaned, earning a bright laugh from the guy next to me.

  “I’ve never met anyone I’ve felt so comfortable with so quickly,” he said like it was nothing.

  Why did he have to be so sweet? I pushed that question into the back of my brain and beamed at him, appreciating what he was saying. “I’m picky with my friends, you know.”

  "So I should feel honored that I'm your best friend?" he asked, raising a dark eyebrow while a goofy, crooked grin covered his lips.

  I couldn't help but snort. "We're best friends?"

  He sat up a little then, nodding with that same ridiculous smile on his face. "At least."

  Wanting to focus on his words but being too scared, I waggled my brows at him. "How old am I?" I asked, knowing he had no idea.

  "Twenty… three?" he asked, twitching an eye.

  "You’re fired. I'm twenty-six.” I groaned, flicking his thigh in return. “What's my favorite color?"

  He made another face. "Blue?"

  "How did you know?"

  "You're always wearing blue," he boasted with a wink. "What do you think my favorite color is?"

  I stared at him right in the eyes. "Pink, duh."

  He blinked those long fanning black lashes once and only once. “Do you have any idea how easy it is to love you?”

  There was no way to respond to that. Plus, he was joking. I mean, he was joking, right? Instead of taking the risk of saying something I’d regret later, I reached forward and attempted to flick him in the forehead, but he caught my hand. I tried to yank it back, but almost punched myself in the face instead. I scowled.

  "What's your favorite thing to listen to?" I asked, figuring that since we were on a roll getting to know each other a bit more, I might as well take advantage.

  "You know, I don't have anything specific I like," he answered, pursing his lips. What a typical musician answer. "I like and hate everything. I can listen to anything as long as it's good. What about you? Kidz Bop?"

  I threw my head back and laughed. "Oh yeah, I’m so glad you told me about how catchy it was.”

  Sacha smiled and made a gentle, amused noise in his throat that sounded faintly like a snort as he fluttered those thick, long eyelashes in my direction. "I'll send you the rest of my collection when I get home," he teased me. When I grinned at him, his expression softened and his eyes flickered down to my hands. "You haven't been with anyone since you and Brandon broke up?" he asked abruptly.

  The question sort of threw me for a loop since I wasn't expecting it at all. But that void that I felt for my ex was numbed and so insignificant I couldn't bother to remember anything about him that used to mean something to me. "No," I told him simply. "I thought my heart was broken for about a little bit. Then I was too pissed and depressed with life to bother with anything besides school for a while. Now, I’m just minding my own business, enjoying the tour, taking advantage of being the captain of my destiny for a little bit.”

  And having a huge, massive crush on you that defies all sense, I thought.

  He nodded thoughtfully. “No regrets, then?”

  “None.” That was the truth. “Everything happens for a reason, and I know that things wouldn’t have worked out between us in the long run anyway, you know what I mean?”

  "Yeah," he replied in a soft voice. "My last girlfriend, Liz—you met her in San Francisco, remember?" How could I forget? I nodded and threw up in my mouth at the same time but luckily his attention was on his hands instead of the faces I was making. "She broke up with me because she hated me being gone all the time. She wanted me to choose her over my music, but," those pale gray eyes looked into mine, "I don't know. It didn't seem like the right thing to do. I didn't want to do it. She knew before we started dating what I did for a living; it wasn’t a surprise. I haven't wanted to date anyone since her, because I don't want to get stuck in that type of relationship again, I guess."

  The idea that someone, specifically Ronalda, would ask Sacha to quit on his dream and his incredible talent to fight off her loneliness, made my heart churn. His gift didn't deserve to fade away, and those selfish reasons made me burn. "I think someone who really loves you wouldn't ask you to give up what you love, what you were meant to do," I told him in such an even voice it shocked me.

  He smiled at me and nodded. "I think the same thing, Princess."

  * * *

  "I'll meet you in twenty," Sacha whispered into my ear as we were getting off the van after a very late dinner in Geelong.

  It was a mutual decision that both of us would shower before he came over to my room every night, even though I would have gladly let him shower in my room. With me.

  Not that I would ever make the offer out loud but there was nothing wrong with simply thinking about it. That night in Perth, where he'd stayed until close to five in the morning, had just been the beginning. What followed were five consecutive nights o
f sitting in my room with a handsome, showered and delicious-smelling man.

  Unfortunately and unsurprisingly, it was pretty innocent. We sat on the bed and talked a lot, watched television and ragged on each other for our likes and dislikes. When I told him that I'd seen My Girl about a million times, he'd rolled his eyes so far back I was worried those pretty irises would stay there. When he told me he’d seen all of the Transformers movies in person at least six times, and even sat in line for twenty-four hours to catch the first showing of one, I stared at him blankly.

  The thing that killed me the most about our friendship was that the more I learned about Sacha, the more I liked him. I liked that he volunteered at a pet shelter, that he knew how to play four different instruments, and that he had a pet turtle named Mercury that Julian’s brother babysat when he was on tour. I thought it was amazing that he worked at a studio as a session pianist and back-up singer when he was home. The bastard was sweet and thoughtful, and he laughed at my jokes and my embarrassing stories.

  This huge, blinding forest fire of happiness filled my chest when I was around him. While it should have been a beautiful thing that I liked him as much as I did, it wasn't. I had no idea where things stood between us. We were definitely friends; that was blatantly obvious. I loved spending time with him because he had this way about him that always put me in a good mood but…

  I wasn’t sure whether there was actually something more. Our joking could be considered flirting. He spent more time with me than he did with anyone else by multiples. When we were at the venues and he wasn't busy, he'd began coming to visit the merch table even if he had to wear a hoodie to avoid getting mobbed by fans.

  This, us, was so complicated.

  I didn't want to assume anything, so I didn't. After all, he'd mentioned Ronalda as his ex, but I couldn't help but remember that conversation that I'd overheard. Then there was his comment when we’d been in the car back in Philadelphia about how he’d told her something about it not being the right time to talk about whatever. Was there something else that could possibly be going on? I had no fucking idea, and I sure as hell wasn't going to ask.