Toad

by Cambria Hebert

  “Well, now you’re alone with me.” That didn’t come out nearly as sarcastic and nonthreatening as I intended.

  She cleared her throat and then turned and grabbed something off the tray behind her. “I made you a sandwich.” She held out a white plate with a chicken sandwich, chips, and a pickle on the side.

  “You made that for me?”

  She nodded.

  I snatched up half the sammy and shoved the end into my mouth. “Omigoood,” I said around a bite of the food. “How did you know I was starved?”

  She gaped as I shoved another bite in my mouth. “You’re always hungry.”

  I paused. “How’d you know that?”

  “Because both times we met, you stole my candy.”

  “This is good shit. It’s trending in my mouth,” I said as I chewed and pointed to my lips.

  “It’s trending in your mouth?” She wondered.

  “If this sandwich was a Facebook post, it would have thousands of likes.”

  She laughed. I liked the sound. And by the way, she still smelled like Fruity Pebbles. It was nearly addicting.

  I took the plate and finished the food in record time. Although, Cheeto was faster than me. After he ate and drank, he settled beside Aerie and began licking his paws.

  “They did tell me you were coming.” Her quiet voice admitted, her gaze trained on the kitten. “I told them I wasn’t ready. I guess they didn’t care.”

  “Not ready to work on new music? Or not ready have me around?”

  She kept her eyes turned down, but I stared at her anyway. The firelight played across her features, creating shadows on her face and streaks of gold in her dark hair.

  “Both.” I watched her throat work after she spoke. Noticed the slight tremble in her lower lip. It was one word, but it held a lot.

  I felt bad for being here, bad for showing up without calling. For basically putting my paycheck above her.

  “Hey, uh…” I said, clearing my throat. “I’ll go. I can put the label off a little, tell them I had a family emergency at home and buy you some time.”

  Her eyes lifted. “You would do that?”

  “Sure. It’s not like my dad wants me to be here anyway.”

  “Your dad?”

  “Yep, I still live at home,” I said. Way to sound like a loser, Roth.

  A little inkling of interest sparked in her eyes. “Where is home?”

  “Upstate New York.”

  “You don’t live in L.A.?”

  “L.A. couldn’t handle all this.” I gestured to myself.

  She gave me a look that basically said to knock it off.

  I sighed. “No. I’m not that established in songwriting. I’m a college student. Who lives with his dad and drives a crappy Ford.”

  When she didn’t say anything, I figured that was her way of being nice and not laughing me out onto the porch. I got to my feet and adjusted my shirt. “You mind taking care of Cheeto? I think he’d like it better here than a car ride back to New York.”

  “Of course.”

  “Cool.” I stood there awkwardly for a few painful seconds, then started from the room.

  “Did you want to use the bathroom before you left?” she asked.

  I gave her a lopsided smile over my shoulder. “Nah, I peed in the bushes a few miles back.”

  “I knew it!” She gasped.

  I laughed.

  My hand closed around the large wrought iron handle on the front door when I heard her behind me.

  “Nate!”

  I turned to see her at the top of the stairs of the living room, Cheeto cradled in her arms.

  “Aerie?”

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip when I said her name, and my hand tightened around the handle. I didn’t say anything else. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, a bunch of stupid would tumble out.

  Finally, she released her lip. “Will you stay?”

  “U-uh, uh,” I stuttered. I cleared my throat, rubbing the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah.”

  “Just for tonight,” she rushed out. “Maybe we can talk in the morning? About work.”

  I nodded.

  “Help me find a litter box for this little guy, and then I’ll show you to your room.”

  I blinked after her as she went from the room, my eyes drawn back to her legs. She was almost out of sight when I heard her call out, “You coming or what?”

  I rushed to catch up.

  Aerie

  The second I hit the top of the staircase, music floated through the air. The melodic tunes of a guitar wrapped around my senses and propelled my feet a little bit faster, even though I’d yet to have any coffee.

  I didn’t know the tune, but I knew my ears liked it. It was a little haunting, a little melancholy, but at the same time, it held an undertone of hope.

  There was something about music, wasn’t there? No matter what kind you listened to. It just had this indescribable way of making you feel something.

  The second my foot hit the bottom of the steps, I was almost transfixed. My footsteps were soundless as I went in search of the music.

  I knew Nate was a songwriter. But I had no idea he played guitar. I didn’t know much about him at all. His melody made me hungry for the information. For any detail I could garner. I wondered if the piece was something he wrote. Something autobiographical. If it wasn’t, I wondered where he got the inspiration.

  Just as my foot hit the top step into the living room, a quiet voice began to sing.

  “Sometimes it feels like you were just a dream,

  “A wish floating through reality.

  “At night, I wait for sleep to claim me,

  “To hear your voice, remember your face,

  “But when I open my eyes, you’re gone without a trace.”

  I swallowed. My throat was dry, my eyes oddly damp. That was beautiful. And his voice…

  “Shit,” he swore and stroked the strings, then lifted his hand.

  I moved into the room, unable to hang back. Unwilling to pretend I hadn’t heard. I wasn’t normally very polite. I wasn’t about to start now.

  “Play it again,” I said, padding across the large plush rug toward where Nate sat on the hearth.

  He’d built a fire. The sound of the wood crackling and popping behind him only added to the atmosphere.

  Maybe it was the early-morning hour. Maybe I was just lonely from being here in solitude. Or maybe it was the way his voice still haunted the chambers of my heart… making me feel as if the reason it beat was more than just to keep my blood pumping.

  His head came up quickly. Red locks fell onto his forehead, and he shoved them away, making it all stand out around his head. “You heard me?”

  I nodded, drawing closer. Gesturing with my hand, I urged, “Play it again.”

  His eyes flashed with a little bit of shyness, and I sank down on the brick ledge beside him. I bumped my knee into the side of his leg.

  He didn’t glance at me, only down at the guitar balanced in his lap. Music filled the room again, and I watched his fingers nimbly move over the strings. He sang the lines again. Then when his voice fell away, he played what I assumed what was left of the chords.

  I picked up where he left off.

  “Lost in the past, nonexistent in the future.

  “Which is worse? I’m just not sure.

  “Looking in the mirror, a reflection gazes back,

  “But it isn’t me.

  “It isn’t me.

  “It’s how I know you weren’t a dream,

  “A wish floating through reality.

  “Memories are hard to keep,

  “But you’re always there, aren’t you?

  “Buried down deep,

  “Always there when I’ve had too much reality.”

  When my words fell away, so did his music. The final chord ebbed away softly, leaving nothing behind but the crackle and hiss of the fire.

  Nate’s emerald eyes lifted, glittering like precious gems. “That w
as amazing.”

  The rise and fall of my chest was heavy, just like the air between us.

  “It’s like you knew what I was saying. You understood.” He went on.

  I did understand.

  “Who did you lose?” I asked, not holding back.

  He set aside the guitar, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “My mom died when I was a little kid.”

  I reached out without thought, sliding my hand over his clasped ones. He stared at where we touched for long moments, then parted his grip and tugged my hand between his. “What about you?”

  Pain lanced through my chest. “My grandmother.”

  “You’re a lot like her, then?” he asked, the corner of his mouth kicking up.

  I smiled, thinking of her. Then my smile faded away. “She was much more than I will ever be.”

  His hands tightened around mine, and he looked over. “I don’t think that’s true,” he replied, soft. “Looking in the mirror, a reflection gazes back. It isn’t me.” He repeated my words. “You see her in you.”

  I wished I did. But really, when I looked in the mirror, I thought of how disappointed in me she probably was.

  Tugging my hand slowly out of his, I was sort of sad when he let me go. But I pushed the feeling back and stood. “Have you had coffee yet?”

  He shook his head. “Are you kidding? I got lost twice just trying to find this room. I was afraid if I went in search of the kitchen, you’d never see me again.”

  “The house isn’t that big.” I scoffed.

  “Where’s Cheeto?” He wondered, as if he just noticed I wasn’t holding the kitten.

  “Curled up in my bed. I didn’t want to bother him, he looked too cozy.”

  “If I was in your bed, I wouldn’t want to leave it either.” He wagged his eyebrows at me.

  I gave him a forget it look, then turned away, hiding the smile trying to take over my face. “I’m gonna need some coffee to put up with you today.”

  He appeared soundlessly behind me as we went, leaning over my shoulder. “Does that mean I’m not leaving?”

  “I haven’t decided.” I sniffed.

  “You like me.” He teased.

  “I do not.”

  “Like me,” he whispered.

  I ignored him. He was annoying.

  But as we entered the kitchen, an insistent little voice spoke up in the back of my head.

  Maybe I do.

  Nate

  She finished my song as though she knew all the words.

  I didn’t even have the words.

  Aerie did.

  She walked right into the room without pause, sitting down beside me as if I were a book and all she had to do to continue the story was turn the page.

  I wanted to work with her. Now more than ever. Not for the challenge, the money, or even the recognition. Hell, at this point, I didn’t even care about proving to my dad that I could handle this career.

  I wanted to sit beside her some more, let her voice become my pulse, let all the little details about her become my air.

  Ten and I worked well together. The songs we collabed on for his album were epic.

  This could be more.

  I felt it. If she was already finishing my sentences, combining my melody with hers… what would it be like when we got to know each other?

  She was gun shy, though. Oh so cynical. People (mostly men), it seemed, had burned bridges with her—while she was still standing on them. First-degree burns took a long time to heal. But yeah, I’d like to be the aloe to soothe her.

  “Earth to Nate!” Aerie’s voice cut into my thoughts.

  “Huh?”

  “Do you want coffee?” she said, enunciating each word like she was talking to a two-year-old. As she did, she waved a pod for the coffee machine in front of my face.

  “Is that even a question?” I scoffed, then turned my attention to the room.

  The ceilings were high and pitched. Huge wooden beams soared overhead, and a large wrought iron fixture hung from the center. There was a huge marble-topped island, a farmhouse-style sink, and a double refrigerator big enough to hold food for a year.

  Windows lined the wall, looking out onto the property, which was wooded with trees. Sunlight shone through, lighting up the room.

  “Cream?” Aerie asked as I stared back up at the ceiling.

  I nodded, and her body disappeared behind the open door of the fridge. Curious, I moved behind her and peered in, wondering how much food she had. It was only partially filled.

  Aerie handed me a bottle of creamer over her shoulder then reached back in, her fingers snatching a cup of Greek yogurt.

  I made a face. “Ew. What’s that for?”

  “Breakfast,” she replied, shutting the fridge behind her.

  “That is not breakfast,” I retorted. “That’s nasty.”

  Her brows shot up. Her hair was rumpled again today. Not messy, just not as straight and sleek as it was the day we met. Instead, it waved around her face and skimmed her collarbone when she moved.

  She had on more of those socks again. The kind that reached just below her knees. These were gray with two thick white stripes at the top of each. They reminded me of a jersey, except on her legs.

  Sadly, she was wearing pants. They were black and tight. Violet called them leggings. Her light-blue top was cropped, but not so much that I could see her belly. Though, I bet if she reached over her head, I’d see a glimpse of skin.

  “You don’t like yogurt?” she seemed surprised.

  “Does anyone?” I wondered. “It’s like swallowing slime.”

  Aerie wrinkled her nose. “That was graphic.”

  “I know.” Going over to the pantry (it was a distressed-looking door that literally had Pantry written on it), I stuck my head in. “Where’s the Fruity Pebbles?” I called out to her.

  “At the grocery store…”

  I gasped. “You don’t have any Fruity Pebbles!”

  “I thought only four-year-olds ate that.”

  “You offend me.” I told her, backtracking to the mug she was lifting off the Keurig. I took it out of her hand. “Dibs.”

  “That was mine,” she growled.

  “I called dibs.” I added a generous amount of cream to my coffee.

  “You can’t call dibs on coffee.”

  I lifted it and took a sip. “Just did.”

  Muttering under her breath, she turned away to brew another cup.

  I stuck my tongue out at her.

  “I saw that!”

  I grimaced. “I can’t believe you don’t have any Fruity Pebbles. I don’t know if I can stay in a house like this.”

  She turned and smiled sweetly. “Should I show you to the door?”

  Carrying my coffee back to the fridge, I started pulling things out and laying them on the expansive island.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Since there’s no decent breakfast, I’m going to have to improvise.” I slapped an unopened pack of bacon on the counter beside the eggs.

  Her voice was incredulous. “You cook?”

  I looked around the large open door and lifted one brow. “You don’t?”

  Her chin lifted a fraction. “I don’t have time.”

  “So that’s why you eat slime.” I concluded.

  “It’s healthy!”

  “So’s Brussel sprouts.” I pushed the door closed and added the rest of my ingredients on the counter. “But I don’t eat those either.”

  Without another word, Aerie carried her mug, the slime, and a spoon over and climbed on a chair at the island. With her chin propped in her hand, she regarded me. “You’re really going to cook all that?”

  “You’re going to help me,” I informed her.

  She blanched.

  I spread out my arms. “You have all the time in the world this morning.”

  “I’ll just have this.” She poked at the container with her spoon.

  I leaned a hip into the counter and c
rossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t know how.”

  She shot up straight. “I do, too!”

  “Prove it.”

  Aerie jumped off the stool and came around the island, pushing up the sleeves on her T-shirt. “Fine.”

  She stood there for long moments, staring down at all the stuff on the island without saying a word. When her dark-brown gaze finally peeked up at me, she asked, “Well, what were you going to make?”

  I laughed. “I knew it!”

  Aerie’s expression darkened, and it was like this veil—no, a wall—came down over her features. Her mouth flattened, and she shoved back away from the counter.

  “Whoa,” I said, catching her wrist. “Where are you going?”

  “If you think I’m going to stand here and listen to you make fun of me for something I don’t know how to do—”

  Yikes.

  I hit a nerve.

  Clearly, Aerie was used to someone poking fun at her, and not in a nice way.

  “Hey, hey,” I said, towing her back around. “I’m not making fun of you.”

  She gave me an angry, hard stare. The need to flee was so prominent inside her I felt her hands shake with it.

  What did he do to you?

  I wanted to pull her across the rest of the distance between us, to fold her against my chest and rest my chin on top of her head. I never wanted anything so much.

  I settled for stroking my thumb on the inside of her wrist. “I was joking. Not laughing at you. I would never do that.”

  Her eyes lifted. I couldn’t stop myself. I reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You like omelets?”

  “What kind?” she replied begrudgingly.

  “Veggie. Gooey cheese. With bacon and toast dripping with butter.”

  “I’d have to work out for three hours if I ate that.”

  I snorted. “You’re on vacation. And you don’t need to work out.” After a brief pause, I took a chance, lowering my voice. “I think you look perfect the way you are.”

  The wall on her features crumbled. Her entire body relaxed. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I’ve never made an omelet before.” Her voice was hesitant.

  “I’ll teach you.”