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Something hot and electric flashed between us but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she nodded once, as if resigned—to the chemistry we shared or my presence, I couldn’t tell—then stood, cutting off the moment. “I’m gonna go prep some lessons for when the studio reopens.”
I watched her walk away, once again reminded of how strong she was. Wondering at the secrets she kept. Kicking myself for caring. I’d been burned before and I had no intention of walking through those flames again.
Yet, like a glutton for punishment, an hour later, I found myself leaning against the living room threshold, watching her like a voyeur. Headphones on, eyes closed, she was so lost in whatever she was listening to, her notepad and pencil were nearly falling off her lap as she sat with her legs folded beneath her on the couch.
When was the last time I’d been so overcome with something I’d let myself relax like that? I couldn’t recall. Maybe never.
Her eyelids slowly fluttered open and eyes the color of honey met mine, dreamy and content. With no particular hurry, she reached up and pulled off her headphones, the sounds of muffled music drifting into the air—something eloquent with strings and percussion. Something I could picture her dancing to on a stage somewhere.
“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice soft.
“Yeah.”
Those dreamy eyes caressed my face, then moved down my chest and legs before slowly drifting back up. “Sit with me?”
Bad idea.
Terrible. Idea.
“Sure.” I strode over and sank down beside her, wondering what she wanted to talk about.
But she didn’t want to talk. Instead, she surprised me by lifting her headphones and placing them on my head, letting her music fill my senses.
I closed my eyes and let it take me away, somehow not surprised as all thought left me, the melody taking its place and all tension leaving me. Whatever this piece was, it was clearly meant to captivate the soul.
My head snapped up and my eyes flew open when I felt her head and hand, warm on my chest. But she wasn’t looking at me as she curled into my side, cuddling into me like she’d been doing it her whole life.
I let my arm drape around her shoulders, pulling her closer, giving her whatever comfort she was seeking, and she snuggled in even more, her leg hooking over my thigh.
I had no idea what she was thinking, but my body was thrumming along with the music’s crescendo.
Her fingers curled into my shirt, making my heart thunder like mad as déjà vu tickled my brain. Then, like a lightning bolt, a memory flashed through my psyche.
Tricia, curled up in my arms, fresh from the shower, dressed only in her panties and one of my shirts.
“I think I’m pregnant,” she whispered, her fingers clutching and unclutching my t-shirt like she was nervous, even though we’d been trying for what felt like forever since the miscarriage.
“What?” I pulled back and took in her face. “Are you sure?”
“Not yet.” Her smile was timid, which wasn’t like her. “I’m only like two weeks late.”
Yeah, well, she wasn’t pregnant. At least not yet. When she did finally carry a baby to term, it wouldn’t be mine.
I was such a fucking idiot.
In retrospect, her nerves made a lot of sense, since she knew she was going to have to come clean about screwing my friend, and she knew I wanted nothing more than a child. In the end, losing her wasn’t the worst pain she inflicted. It was taking away my chance to be a father.
As the song came to its soft, almost heartbreaking end, I reached up and slowly pulled off the headphones and laid them to the side. I knew I was treading dangerous territory with Olivia, and no matter how different it felt than with Tricia, I’d be a fool to let my guard down.
This was a job. Feelings could not factor in. I had to rein this shit in.
With as much care as I could muster, I extricated myself from underneath her and uncoiled to stand.
“Did you like it?” she asked, her expression the epitome of vulnerable.
I nodded. “I loved it.”
Her smile seemed to say she understood, which was good, because I wasn’t sure I could take breaking her heart.