Page 102 of Wicked Little Darling

Not once while I’d been writing out the notes did I even think about the fact that he couldn’t read sheet music. Not once did it ever cross my mind.

Fuck, I was such a self-centered little prick.

I stared at the sheet music, then glanced up at Dakota, who was still smiling at me.

“You just gotta play it and I’ll be able to learn it. I don’t need that.” He nodded at the papers in my hand, and when his eyes met mine again, my heart skipped a beat. “I just need you.”

Those words were like a gut-punch, like falling from a ten-story building and landing on a bed of nails.

“Okay,” I said, my voice too quiet.

I set the sheet music on the stand in front of me, tucked my violin under my chin, and started to play.

It was a minor piece in ternary form, so the melody in the beginning was slow and serene. It became angry and agitated in the middle, then smoothed back into the beginning melody. This was only one part of it, though.

I was on the last few notes of the final section when I glanced over at Dakota. He was watching me so intensely that I faltered on the next note and winced when the sharp, discordant sound rang out in the room.

“What?” I said, feeling vulnerable.

He shook his head slowly. “Nothing.”

“Then don’t stare at me like that.”

He tilted his head. “Like what?”

“Like—” I pointed my bow at his face. “—that.”

“Like you’re incredible?” he said softly, his eyes boring into mine so deeply it felt like he was looking right into my soul.

I was sure he could hear the pounding of my heart in this small, soundproof room. There wasn’t anywhere for the franticthump thump thumpof it to go. I was also sure that there wasn’t any oxygen in here, and someone had turned the heat up.

Dakota was drawing me into some kind of trance with those dark eyes.

I realized I hadn’t said anything and opened my mouth to deny his words, but he looked away, notching his violin beneath his chin and readying his bow.

He raised a brow at me. “We’ll play this one together and then figure out the second part, right? So start from the beginning?”

“Okay,” I said, unable to take my eyes off him. He looked so damn good with a violin in his hands.

“Okay.” He winked at me, but there was no humor or mischief in his eyes anymore; instead they were filled with something weighty and meaningful and a little bit…fragile.

“Okay,” I said again, positioning my bow. “You don’t need me to play it again?”

A bit of amusement crept into his eyes, and he smiled. “I think I’ve got it,” he said, lips curving in a small smile.

I shifted in my chair and cleared my throat. “Um…okay.” I glanced at him one last time, then inhaled deeply and dragged my bow across the E string.

When Dakota began playing with me, I could barely focus on what I was doing. A huge part of me wanted to stop playing and just watch and listen to Dakota because…

Hewas fucking incredible.

He put his whole body into the music, and halfway through the song, little glances weren’t enough and I watched him play in earnest. His eyes were closed, his brows knitted together as he moved, those lithe fingers expertly sliding and vibrating the strings in the exact places I had. It all flowed like molten gold, the most beautiful warmth spilling from him.

When I’d seen him play a long, long time ago, I remembered thinking he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be—no child could play likethat.

This was the boy that made me fall in love with music, the boy who’d captured all my attention when I was a lost, angry kid, the boy I’d admired and idolized.

This was the boy that haunted my dreams and tormented my reality.