This Love
Page 8
“Ha! You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re right, I would like that…very much,” he replied, leaning in. His voice tickled my ear, and I gota whiff of his cologne. All my senses seemed to awaken at once, and all I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss him.
Damn. Why was I torturing myself again?
“Oh, I know this song!” he exclaimed, distracting me from my lustful thoughts, “I know how to play it. Do you want me to teach you?”
My first instinct was to say no, but then I just nodded, unable to say anything.
He started strumming the guitar, and I looked at his fingers moving across the strings so swiftly, Ally’s words came to mind: finger porn. Dammit! Get out of my head words! Get out of my head! I instantly blushed and then it deepened because he started looking at me. He tipped his chin in my direction, but I was still lost in my lusty daydream. He gave me a strange look, seeing I was just sitting there, unmoving, my eyes fixed on him.
He couldn’t know what I was really thinking, could he? I hadn’t said the words out loud, had I? Oh my God, had I said finger porn out loud?
“Come on, sing it.”
Oh, the song.
“You want me to sing now?” God, could I sound more like an idiot? What was wrong with me?
“Why not? You sing with me all the time.”
He started strumming the guitar, and I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the music.
Every time his fingers touched the strings I felt the sound vibrating through me, and a chill ran through my spine. He started playing from the beginning once again, and I exhaled deeply before singing the first verse.
This was a terrible idea, though. I didn’t want to sing this song in front of him, because I believed the lyrics were so fitting to our situation. It was almost like handing him my heart on a plate. Here, take it, Lou. Do what you want with it. I’m afraid no matter what I do, it’s already yours. This song…this song told the fragile yet powerful connection between two people. It mirrored what I felt for him at this very moment. I did desire him, and I knew felt the same.
His eyes were focused on my face so intensely it was a miracle I was even able to get the words out of my mouth. I realized he was following me with the guitar, paying attention to see if he had to slow down or not. I was supposed to learn how to play the chords by looking at him, but now I wasn’t even looking at his fingers. I was looking at him looking at me. He lowered his head for a moment, and when our eyes met again, the feeling that ran through my body was enough to make me want to run and hide. My eyes left his face and focused on his fingers, his hands, his slender and defined arms. I could see his perfectly toned biceps through the fitted long sleeve tee he was wearing. Everything about him looked perfect to me. The thoughts that I had just looking at him play were too much. I had to make a serious effort to make myself focus and pay attention to the chords he was playing. I wanted him, but I didn’t want to have to live with the memories.
Helga, who was apparently in the kitchen, came out just as I was done singing. When Lou strummed the last chord, she came closer to us, drying her hands with a dishtowel. I could see her from the corner of my eye, but I was holding Lou’s gaze. Neither one of us spoke a word for what seemed like forever. Then Helga got closer to us.
“You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife!” she laughed, mimicking with a finger the blade of a knife between us, making me flinch and lose my balance, causing me to fall backwards.
“Woah!” I yelled while both Helga and Lou reached for me, pulling me up before I could reach the ground.
“Are you okay?” Lou asked, encircling my waist with his arm.
I nodded, pretty sure my embarrassment was showing bright red on my face.
“Kids!” Helga yelled, and walked away shaking her head.
“That was really good,” I blurted, trying to divert the attention to something else other than my obvious clumsiness. It was hard to think of anything with him so close to me, his amazing smell invading my senses again.
“I know,” he said softly, staring into my eyes. “I told you we sound good together,” he added with a wink.
And so the days went by, and I spent my mornings taking Lieke to school and working in the pancake house, and the afternoons with Lou. I didn’t have time to play in the street anymore, but I didn’t miss it. I felt like I was learning so much by playing with him every day. It was less lonely than playing alone for starters, and I began to experience something I never had before: playing for fun.
All the years I had spent playing classical music, I hardly had any fun at all. It was more exciting when I was younger, but as I got older, I wanted to experiment, and I had no way to. Playing and studying were both a constant chore to me. That’s how I started resenting playing the piano.
After spending all this time playing with Lou, something started changing inside of me. I actually wanted to play the piano again. I was mainly turned on by him, but I was also turned on by the music, and my heart would start fluttering in my chest when I’d think of stopping my stupid abstinence.
I wasn’t sure if he saw it in my eyes, or in the way my body responded to him when he played, but one day he convinced me to sit with him and Lieke on the piano bench.
He was teaching her to play “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” Lieke was singing it in Dutch as he played. A rapid internet search told me the Dutch version sounded nothing like the English one.
Lieke was singing,
Altijd is Kortjakje ziek
Midden in de week maar ‘s zondags niet
‘s Zondags als haar liefste komt
Is Kortjakje goed gezond
Altijd is Kortjakje ziek
Midden in de week maar ‘s zondags
It sounded so different, but her voice was beautiful, and I had a silly smile plastered across my face. Lou motioned for me to come sit down with them.
I hesitated at first, but then took Lieke in my lap, and he took her hand, playing the melody using her little fingers. He repeated it two or three times and then asked Lieke, “Laten we proberen Ella, ja?” which I was pretty sure meant, “Let’s have Ella try, yes?” I was always shocked when he came up with something in Dutch. When did he even have time to learn it? Maybe he was a better listener than I was; he did ask Johan a lot of questions. Let’s have Ella try. When he got Lieke’s approval, he looked at me and asked permission with his eyes, giving me one of his beautiful, irresistible smiles when I nodded. I smiled and shook my head in disbelief, but didn’t stop him. He took my fingers in his hand and he directed them on the keys. The touch of his hand on mine made me shiver, and I wondered if he caught that. He started pressing my index finger on a key, and then another, and then another. C-C-G-G-A-A-G, F-F-E-E-D-D-C. He kept his eyes on me the whole time to make sure I was okay with it.
I gave him a smile and a nod, and he played the rest of the song using my index finger.
We looked at each other when he was done, and I exhaled, feeling so strangely at ease, almost ready to get Lieke off my lap and start playing for real.
“Goed gedaan, Ella!” Lieke cheered me on, clapping her hands.
I smiled and kissed her cheek.
“Geef Lou een kus!” Kiss Lou too. My eyes widened at her request, and my cheeks went instantly red.
“What did she say?” Lou asked.
“She said I need to kiss you too,” I smiled, glancing at him.
“Well then, by all means, do not disappoint her,” he replied with a smirk.
I kissed him on the cheek, and I said, “Thank you, Lou.”
“Anytime, ma’am,” he replied in his southern accent.
CHAPTER 7
He made me play again a couple of different times when Lieke wasn’t around, so he couldn’t use her as leverage. He simply asked me if I could let him try again one afternoon. I nodded silently, wanting to see how far he would go. I couldn’t deny I liked feeling his fingers on mine. As Lou kept moving my fingers ge
ntly, “we” played a Duke Ellington classic, “I’m Beginning to See the Light.” He sang the cheerful song while pressing the keys on the left side holding one of my hands and using his other one too. He sang so closely to me, I could feel his breath caress my skin.
I wondered if he had chosen the song on purpose, because the lyrics were strangely fitting—now that his lips had been burning mine I had begun to see the light. He sang the chorus in a mannered way, looking straight into my eyes, trying deliberately to make me laugh, or probably trying to show me how much fun this was with the purpose of making me give up my voluntary “abstinence”. He succeeded, more or less.
Touching those keys again a few days ago, albeit playing a silly lullaby, had done something to me. I had been “missing” it already, and that night I kept tinkering with the idea of going downstairs and playing. I decided to postpone my reconciliation with the keys, and instead I started to listen again to my favorite piano pieces. The tears started falling almost immediately when I listened to my favorite pianist, Martha Argerich, play one of the Chopin pieces I loved the most, Scherzo No. 2 in B flat minor. I didn’t mean to cry, but I couldn’t help it. When I was younger, I wanted to be as good as Martha Argerich, but when I realized I didn’t have it in me, I could hardly listen to her play again without feeling immeasurable pain. But now that I was taking these smalls steps with Lou, I felt like I was healing, and it didn’t hurt anymore to listen to this beautiful music. I was able to enjoy it again. I felt a sense of relief, as if my soul was finally at peace. I told myself maybe it was time to give it a try. I knew I didn’t have it in me to be a great pianist, but maybe I could start playing again, just for fun. For fun. The concept sounded so foreign, and I was intrigued by how new that notion was to me.
My feelings and my thoughts were all over the place, and yet I felt like I could not keep it to myself for one more second. I wanted to play. It was all I thought about at night, when I was alone in my room. I wanted to tell somebody, and I knew just the person who would care.
It was late though. I debated not texting him. I hoped he didn’t think this was a booty call, because it wasn’t.
Ella: I have something to confess.
It was past midnight. I realized after I sent the text he might have been asleep and he might not see it until morning.
I stared at the screen hoping he would see it. He replied a couple of minutes later.
Lou: What’s keeping you up?
Ella: After today, I realized something…
Lou: You realized how much you miss my lips, and you want to kiss me again. :-)
Ella: What? No! Would you stop being so cocky about your kisses, for once?
Lou: Awww, babe, you do want to kiss me. Stop pretending.
Babe? Ah, dammit. I was smiling at his text messages. I wanted to kiss him again. I was just trying not to because I knew it was a terrible idea.
Lou: I also know you’re smiling right now. Seriously, stop pretending.
Ella: It’s not about your kisses at all. It’s actually important. I think I want to play again.
Ella: Let me rephrase that. I WANT to play again. I want to play again so bad, I almost want to go downstairs and start playing, but it’s too late, I don’t want to wake everybody up.
He didn’t reply for almost a minute, and I kept staring at my phone waiting for a text to show up. Was he not surprised by what I just said? I thought he’d be thrilled.
Ella: Lou?
Lou: Give me a moment.
What? What the hell?
Ella: Are you trying to recover from the groundbreaking news?
Lou: Yes! Hold on…
I waited, but I was almost tempted to throw my phone across the room. What the fuck was he doing? Was he busy? Was he with someone else? Oh God! He must have been with someone else. No, come on, he wasn’t, was he? Well, he had every right to if he wanted to hang out with somebody. I wanted to be cool, but I couldn’t stop the twinge of jealousy from permeating my body. I didn’t like the idea of him with anyone else. He shouldn’t have texted me if he was with somebody. I was going to cut this conversation short.
Ella: I’ll let you get back to your evening.
Lou: No! Ella, wait…I’ll come get you in fifteen minutes okay? Get ready.
What? No! Why? Where were we going?
Ella: Why? Where are we going?
Lou: It’s a surprise. Come on, get ready. I’ll be there in fifteen.
“Where are we going?” I asked him as I stepped outside and found him waiting for me, his hands shoved in his pockets. He was wearing a black leather jacket and black jeans that made him look even sexier than he usually did. Even in the dark alley, I could see his face brightened up by his smile.
“It’s a surprise, you’ll like it.” He took my hand in his, as if it were the most natural thing. “We need to hurry up though,” he added, tugging on my hand, and before I knew it we were running to one of the main roads. We stopped when we got to an intersection, both of us out of breath. He was looking around, and I was looking at him, trying to understand what the hell we were doing. Where could we possibly be going at almost one in the morning? I kept looking his way, waiting for him to tell me what he had in mind.
He found a cab and opened the door to let me in. He sat next to me and handed a piece of paper to the taxi driver.
“Where are we going?” I asked. He didn’t answer, but he just kept looking at me, with a spark of secretive excitement in his eyes. He looked outside the window, and the city’s lights cast shadows on his face. I stared at his profile while he kept checking on our whereabouts.
“I’m too tired to go dancing, if that’s what it is about.” I was a little mad he was making such a mystery of this whole thing.
“You like to go dancing?” he asked, and a distracting crooked grin appeared on his face. He crinkled his nose, looking even more adorable, and I had to fight myself to keep any shred of composure and not throw myself at him in the narrow cab.
“I do,” I shrugged. “I told you I go out. I actually used to go clubbing a lot, especially when my friend would deejay and get me free entry.”
I looked outside and noticed the area looked familiar. Sure, by now I was familiar with pretty much every one of Amsterdam’s quarters, but we had been here together before. He tapped the taxi driver gently on the shoulder and showed him where he wanted to stop.
The music store was our mystery destination. The one I had taken him to just the other day. The store wasn’t open, but I could see a feeble light on through the pitch dark store windows. Lou knocked on the door, and the owner came to open it. The store owner, Ian, whom I had spoken to a few times before, eyed me briefly and gave me a small smile. He looked sleepy, but he vigorously shook hands with Lou.
Lou thanked him, and I believe he passed him something. Money? It had to be. Who in their bloody mind would decide to open up their store in the middle of the night if not for money? Ian let us in, and locked the door behind us. I was trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness and was confused as to why we were here, at this time at night. Lou and Ian exchanged a few words and then he bid us goodbye.
“What are we doing here?” I asked him, still not understanding.
“I thought you wanted to play. You can play here. I bought us some time with the landlord upstairs,” he pointed at the floor above us, which is where Ian lived.
“It’s too late,” I complained.
He shook his head and gave me a tight-lipped smile.
“You said you wanted to play. I brought you here so I could hear you play. I’m dying to! Come on,” he gave a nod of his head, taking the camping light Ian had set out and guiding me to the back of the store. My eyes landed on a beautiful Steinway & Sons black grand piano.
He had orchestrated all this so I could play, because I told him I wanted to.
I looked at him incredulously.
“How did you? I mean, how were you able to get Ian out of bed and make him open up shop for you?”
“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” He shook his head no.
“Come on. You want it. This isn’t the time to second guess yourself. Sit,” he said, motioning me to sit on the piano bench.
I sat absent-mindedly, took my jacket off and placed it on top of the piano.
I cracked my fingers, and I placed them on the keys.
I lifted my eyes to meet his.
“What do you want to hear?” I asked.
“Anything you want to play,” he replied.
I took a deep breath trying to shake off the nervousness.
He leaned down, moved my hair behind my shoulder and looked into my eyes.
“No one is here to judge you,” he said in a low voice, his face inches away from mine.
I looked into his eyes and told him “I’m ready.”
I finally settled on a piece, and I placed my fingers on the keys. I couldn’t look at him while I played, but I was all too aware of his eyes fixed on me. I could feel his eyes look at my hands, and go up to my face, probably focusing on my lips and my purposely closed eyelids. Knowing he was looking at me sent shivers down my spine. Since my circumstances had changed over the last few months, playing the piece I had chosen felt completely different. I got giddier note after note. The sound coming from the piano vibrated through me and it felt liberating. A small smile spread on my face and I heard Lou chuckle. He was standing to my left, facing me, and I knew if I looked up for just a moment, I would have gotten lost in his eyes and lost my focus. I felt completely ecstatic playing Liszt’s piano concerto No. 1 in e-flat major s. 124, and toward the end, I couldn’t hold back my smile anymore. I bit my lip, incredulous, trying to remember the last time I had so much fun playing classical music. I must have been a child.
When I was done, I finally looked up and met Lou’s eyes. He gave me a soft smile at first, but when he read the expression on my face and saw how giddy I was, his smile stretched into a huge grin. We both laughed, half surprised, half ecstatic.