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We’ll be there to support you, Liam .

Such simple words.

Not complex by any means, but the unexpected knot that materializes in my throat is too much. I know it’s an indicator of a strong emotion, and I know what happens to me with strong emotions, so I leave.

As fast as I can. And I even try to convince Carter that everything’s fine, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.

I half run for two blocks before I manage to stop and lean against some storefront. I check my location because I don’t even know in which direction I ran, and see it’s a fifteen minute walk to my place, which is too much for right now.

I pull out my earbuds, and just select my usual relaxation playlist, then call a car. The Cloud Atlas soundtrack is soothing in the best way, because by the end it has such a big sense of hope that it immediately turns my thoughts to how things could be after this ball.

I arrive at my place and go about my routine without taking my earbuds off until I have to for my shower.

I go over every answer Carter gave during our get-to-know-each-other session, making sure to memorize them. He seems really intent on having this go perfectly, and all I really want is to never have to see Dirk again.

He was right when he said it took a long time to get over him, but it was more the time it took to get over what he’d done.

The second I found him with another man the repulsion was instant.

He tried to grab my arm right after the other man ran away with his clothes bundled up in his hands, and I recoiled so hard I almost fell.

My desire to touch and be touched by a person is the only true indicator I have of love, so I can only deduce my love for him died instantly.

So yeah, it’s not like I’ve loved him all these years and wanted him back. That was never true. It was more the blow to my ego and sense of trust. At least that’s the way Dr. Becky worded it.

But if Carter and my reactions to him ever since I met him are any indication, then I’d say my ability to trust has been completely healed.

And his friends are clearly supportive.

He said they’re his family now, and though I suspect Milton fits into that category as well, Carter didn’t say so. But Milton did smile at me .

That has to be good, right?

I turn off the speaker in my bathroom and the silence is both startling and like a balm to my brain. I dry myself off quickly then put on my pajamas, and I’m just about to go clear out my backpack when my phone buzzes.

Carter

Did you get home okay?

I recognize the frizzle of electricity in my abdomen for what it is, excited nerves, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

I need time to think about it, but then I think that remembering the way Carter’s warm body felt against my palms will only make the fizzles worse, so I shut that idea down and answer quickly.

Liam

I did.

There’s not much more to tell for tonight, and I have to focus on getting all the rest I need for tomorrow’s session with the Storms. As far as acquaintances go, they’re almost at the top of my list, but they can be a lot.

They’re talented and passionate about their music careers, and I do admire them for everything they’ve accomplished, but I always have to focus hard on their facial expressions and words to understand what they mean and what they’re feeling.

I always make sure to ask a lot of questions with them because I don’t want to disappoint them with my recordings.

They’re important to my parents, and their parents were very integral in Mom and Dad’s story, so I know I need to give them my best .

I try to do that for all the artists who contact me to record for them, but it’s more poignant with them for some reason.

In any case, if I manage to get more than my usual eight hours of sleep, then that will give me an advantage tomorrow. So I leave my phone out by the living room, take everything out of my backpack and put it in its place, then go right to bed. Who cares that it’s barely seven o’clock?

I’m the first one at the studio the next morning, which isn’t surprising since I was up before the sun today. I managed to fall asleep relatively quickly—which goes to show how much yesterday took its toll on me—but I did wake up at what Mom calls an ungodly hour.

Also, the studio is just down the block from my building, so it really barely took me any time to get here even with a stop for coffee and the gym where they let me use one of their insulated yoga studios for my workout.

All morning I’ve been thinking about Carter.

Everything I put off thinking about last night came barreling into my mind as soon as I woke up, and now I can’t stop.

Was the touching as nice for him as it was for me?

Is he going along with this fake boyfriend thing out of some sense of responsibility or because he does want to?

Or only because he’s my friend?

Well, we might’ve just started being friends, and I don’t have that much experience with those, but he clearly is. Is this what friends always do for each other ?

Has he faked being anyone else’s boyfriend?

Oof, that thought doesn’t sit right.

I place a hand on top of my belly, and raise my other to press E, G sharp, B, and C sharp on the grand piano in the studio.

That’s my favorite note, E6.

It sounds like . . . possibility.

Mom always starts her happy songs with that one, or at least she used to.

“You’re here.” I hear Hawk over the speakers and turn to look through the glass at the control room.

Wolf is with him, and I see a third person too, but can’t make out who they are until they walk closer to the glass.

It’s Carter.

I feel like I need to let out a big breath suddenly, and my hand twitches on the piano, making sound explode in the room. I quickly pull my hand back and I’m throwing my legs over the bench when they walk into the sound studio.

Hawk walks over with a thick stack of papers and hands them over to me without saying anything.

Sheet music. Like always he’s come prepared, but this is...

A long sonata almost.

I look up to see Hawk chewing on his lower lip, and it looks painful so I don’t comment on it. I look back down, turn to sheet after sheet, and analyze the song. I start to hear it in my head and I am beyond impressed before I even get to the fourth one.

“Did you compose this?” I ask without looking up.

“Of course he did,” Wolf says in his gruff way that I can never decipher.

“Watch it.” Carter speaks for the first time. And that tone I do recognize. I look up to see him frowning at Wolf, harsher than I’ve ever seen him frown, I think.

He and Wolf are staring at each other, and where Wolf’s frown is the usual way things are, on Carter, the harsh lines look almost wrong on his angular face.

His sharp cheekbones are more pronounced thanks to his pinched mouth until Wolf grumbles something I can’t make out, and then Hawk speaks quietly.

“Can you play it?” he asks me.

“Sure,” I tell him, and go back to studying the intricate composition. I know this is going to be the most fun I’ve had in a long time, and it’ll take me the full two days we’ve booked at the studio to perfect it and make adjustments.

“ Sure ?” Wolf asks, his voice no longer a growl but his lip is curled upwards. I think that tone is challenging, so I use the few seconds of eye contact I can muster with Wolf wisely.

“I mastered ‘In the Hall of the Mountain King’ before my sixth birthday, Wolf,” I tell him, making sure my face is completely relaxed. “Even though this is intricate, of course I can play it. And you know very well how much you pay for these fingers.” I hold my hand up.

“That sounds dirty,” I hear Hawk mumble, and a snicker that I’m sure came from Carter, but I keep looking at Wolf. He stares long enough that I have to break eye contact, even if it’s just to look at his forehead, but I think I made my point either way.

Wolf bursts out laughing after a few more seconds of silence, and he shakes his head as he walks back to the control room.

“I love it when he gets cocky,” he says. And then in his normal harsh tone he adds, “Come on Hawk. We only have two days to get this done, and Liam’s gonna need every second to get your sonata done if his guard dog will let him be.”

I wonder briefly why Hawk would compose something like this, what prompted it, because it’s not their style of music at all. They write, compose, and play country rock.

Then I process the “guard dog” comment and wonder if he means Carter.

Who . . .

I look up and see him there, staring at me with a soft smile on his face this time.

“Hello,” I tell him without thinking.

His smile grows, and I don’t know why but that makes me shift on the bench.

“How are you today? Everything okay?”

His soft, melodic voice soothes me into breathing out slowly.

“I’m better,” I confess, and even considering my hectic morning, I realize it’s true. I am better now. “Ready to get to work,” I add for some reason. He nods simply, then turns. I watch him walk away until Wolf’s voice coming over the speakers in the room has me snapping to attention.

“You good?” he asks.

“Yes,” I call out, speaking a bit louder. “Can you tell me if you plan on breaking the sonata up, or if it’s just all continuous?”

“It’s all going to be one long thing,” Hawk says this time. “We’re gonna use it as an intro for the next album.”

“All right,” I mutter as I place the sheets on top of the piano. “I’ll probably get a few things wrong, but let me try to run through the whole thing one time, and then we can see where I’ve missed and if you want any changes. ”

“Got it. I just uploaded it to the system here, so we’ll be able to see any missed notes,” Wolf says, and I know he’s not trying to be mean, he’s just stating facts to inform me they’re ready.

And so I begin.

My mind clears of everything and anything but the notes in front of me, and I can feel how hard I’m smiling when my cheeks start to hurt.

Monday

“Hey,” Carter says as soon as I open the door to my apartment.