“Who was it for?”
Her question hit me hard in the chest, because she could have asked a number of other things — when did you write it, where did you play it, what kind of song, have you ever played it for anyone — but instead, she asked who it was for.
Because a song was always written with someone else in mind.
I didn’t answer, and we both knew I didn’t have to. She knew who the song was for. And I was so painfully aware of how pathetic I was in that moment that I wished I’d never admitted to writing a song at all.
Another gust of wind set the dogwood blooms flying, and one landed in a fold of Sarah’s scarf. I leaned over, plucking it free before I even realized I was doing it.
Sarah’s eyes met mine, the air between us sparking to life the way it always seemed to do.
I cleared my throat. “They have rollerblades for rent over there,” I said, nodding toward a little stand near the trail that circled the park. “What do you say? Want to give it a try?”
“I’ve never skated before.”
I smiled. “Well, then this should be fun.”
***
“I’m going to crash, I’m going to crash, OHMYGOD I’M GOING TO CRASH.”
Sarah’s hands were out at her sides, arms stiff and knees locked as she skated ahead of me and Rojo — if you could even call what she was doing skating. It was more akin to standing as stiff as a board, slowly rolling along the concrete. She had knee pads under her skirt, elbow pads wrapped around her arms, wrist guards protecting the bones and muscles we’d worked so hard to heal, and a helmet — all of which made her look like she was roughly thirteen years old. Combined with the giant smile on her face and eyes the size of stars, it was impossible not to watch her.
It was impossible not to smile, too.
“You’re not going to crash,” I said on a laugh, letting Rojo trot at her own speed as I skated behind her with the leash in my hand. “But if you don’t loosen up, you’re just going to float around like a stiff board all afternoon.”
“I’m trying not to fall.”
“Why?” I asked, skating up beside her. She looked half excited, half terrified as she shuffled her feet in the blades. “What would be so wrong about falling?”
She glanced at me, eyes flicking back and forth between me and the sidewalk in front of her. “Well… I don’t know. It would hurt.”
“Maybe for a second. But you’ll survive. Come on, ditch the fear and let’s do this.” I reached out the hand that wasn’t holding Rojo’s leash for hers. “Do you trust me?”
She swallowed, eyeing my hand like it was a rose disguising a bomb. “I do… but—”
“No buts,” I said, folding her small hand in mine. “Just hold on.”
I started to skate a little faster, letting Rojo adjust to my speed as well as Sarah. She gripped my hand like a lifeline, making little squeaks with each stride we made.
“We’re going to crash,” she said when we zoomed by a jogger.
I laughed. “We are not going to—”
But before I could finish the sentence, a dog off its leash ran across the trail right in front of us. I veered us left, but Rojo chased after the dog to the right, tangling me and Sarah both in her leash. I stumbled, still holding onto Sarah and trying to save us, but my wheels couldn’t catch enough friction to combat gravity.
It was too late.
I pulled Sarah into me, shielding her as much as I could from the fall just as I lost my footing and we tumbled to the ground, rolling off into the grass with Rojo still barking.
“Shit,” I said, pulling back from where I held Sarah to examine her. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t see that dog until it was too late.”
Her honey eyes were wide, her hands shaking, and for a moment I thought she might cry as I searched her for blood or bruises. But instead, she tilted her head back and laughed.
She laughed like a woman set free, the noise bubbling out of her chest like a spring. The longer I watched her, the more the corner of my mouth lifted. She waved me off, like I was the reason she was laughing uncontrollably as she tried and failed to catch her breath. Tears were in the corners of her eyes when she was finally able to stop, and she swiped them away, still smiling as she looked up at me from the grass.
“God, that was so much fun.”
I chuckled. “I told you. Falling isn’t so bad.”
We both grew quiet, and where my attention had been focused on her safety before, it was now acutely aware of how close we were. The way we’d landed, I was practically on top of her, one leg between hers with my arm under her neck, the other hand holding me up where I framed her.
Sarah’s eyes flashed between mine, and when her gaze fell to my lips, I inhaled a stiff breath as every nerve below my belt kicked to life.
One of her hands was on my chest, the other on my bicep where I held myself up, and she wrapped that hand around the muscle, squeezing. I swallowed, allowing myself one, brief glance at her plump lips before I cleared my throat and rolled away.
I stood quickly, adjusting myself in my pants before reaching down a hand for hers. I forced a smile with the gesture. “Come on, let’s try again.”
For a moment, Sarah just stared at my hand, her cheeks a shade of pink. Once she took my hand and I helped her up, her gaze fell to something behind me.
“Well, it’s about time I ran into you.”
I whipped around, and I knew there was no use in trying to hide my surprise when I realized it was Jennifer Stinson that Sarah had been looking at. Her platinum blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and she sported a tight-fitting, matching athletic set that accentuated all of her well-developed curves, as well as her tan, toned stomach. She was dressed like she was there to work out, but she still wore a full face of makeup — complete with crimson red lips, as always.
At her feet was a tiny chihuahua, that Rojo was now inspecting.
I tugged her leash, snapping my fingers once for her to sit down. “Jennifer,” I said, holding Rojo by the collar once she was seated so she wouldn’t eat Jennifer’s dog by accident. “Nice to see you. I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“I would have told you if you would have taken me on that date we discussed,” she fired back, arching one manicured brow. The corner of her lips rose as her eyes flicked from me to Sarah. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
I frowned, because there was absolutely no way Jennifer honestly believed Sarah was my daughter. We obviously looked nothing alike. The more her gaze shifted as she appraised Sarah, the more I realized she just wanted to point out the fact that I was hanging out with someone much, much younger than me — and she wanted to know why.
“This is Sarah Henderson,” I explained. “Randall’s niece. She’s taking piano lessons with me.”
“In the park?” Jennifer asked.
The question was innocent at its base, but the way she said it, the tone of her voice and arch in her brow as she appraised me again let me know it wasn’t a friendly question at all.
“It’s sort of a lesson on fear, combating it both in life and at the piano in order to play the more emotional pieces,” Sarah said from beside me, her voice surprisingly firm and confident. She held her chin high as a small smile graced her lips. “It’s hard to understand if you’re not a musician, I’m sure.”
Jennifer’s lip curled at that, but she smiled despite it, offering Sarah a little nod. “Well, I’m sure it’s a great lesson.” She turned to me again then. “After all, you’ve got the best teacher in town.”
Rojo tugged away from me, eager to sniff the tiny dog at Jennifer’s feet.
“Sarah, this is Jennifer Stinson. We met at a fundraiser a couple years ago.”
“Oh, don’t let him fool you,” Jennifer said, wicked smile climbing. “I asked him to dance, and he turned me down. He’s been playing hard to get ever since. But, I’m a patient woman. And I know a catch when I see one.”
Her boldness shouldn’t have surp
rised me — that was exactly how she’d always been. But for some reason, it made me feel uncomfortable that it was all taking place in front of Sarah this time.
Because she’s your student, I tried to convince myself.
I cleared my throat, forcing as much of a smile as I could manage. “We were actually just about to get going,” I said. “But it was nice seeing you.”
“Are you free this weekend?” Jennifer asked, ignoring my attempt to break free.
“Uh…”
“Come on,” she said, stepping a little closer. Bold as ever, she reached up and pulled a few blades of grass from my shirt, all the while staring at my lips in no effort to hide the thoughts that underlined her next sentence. “I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”
I stepped away from her, tight smile still in place. “You have. I’m sorry, I’m not avoiding you.” Lies. “I’ve just been really busy with lessons and work. But, let me check my schedule and I’ll give you a call.”
“This week,” she said.
It wasn’t a request.
“Um… sure. This week.”
“Great!” She seemed appeased, and she offered Sarah a big smile. “It was nice to meet you, sweetheart. Good luck with your studies.”
Jennifer’s eyes flicked to me quickly before she zeroed in on Sarah again, and without another word, she strutted off down the trail, her tiny dog following.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
* * *
Sarah
The car ride back to Reese’s place was absolutely silent.
Reese hadn’t reached forward to turn on the radio, and neither of us had said a word since we climbed inside the car. Even Rojo was sound asleep in the back, tuckered out from the day at the park.
It didn’t matter that the car was completely quiet, because my thoughts were as loud as train whistles.
Jennifer Stinson had practically pissed on Reese in front of me, which shouldn’t have upset me as much as it did. She was his age. She was gorgeous, and clearly fit, and, apparently, they ran in the same circle. She’d be a great girlfriend for him, a great woman to get him over Charlie and moving forward.
All of that might have been true, but I still hated it.
I hated it because I wanted it to be me. I wanted it to be me who was strikingly gorgeous, fit and bold and confident enough to march right up to Reese in the park and demand a date. I wanted it to be me — in another world, another time, another place where I wasn’t his student and he wasn’t my teacher, where I wasn’t so fucked up from the first man who touched me that I couldn’t even let Reese try.
“I’m sorry about that,” Reese said once we were on the highway. “Jennifer can be… brash.”
I swallowed, stomach flipping around at the sound of her name on his lips. I had no right to be jealous, to care, but I did. It was something about the casual tone, the friendly way he referred to her — like he knew her, like she knew him.
I only wanted to hear my name on his lips like that.
“I think she’s refreshing,” I said, folding my hands over my stomach like I could soothe it with a sort of hug as that lie slipped through. “She knows what she wants, and she’s confident.” I turned to him, then. “You should go on a date with her.”
“What?” Reese’s brows pulled in so fast I thought he’d give himself a headache. He shook his head, shifting one hand off the wheel and replacing it with the other before he glanced at me. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all.”
Reese eyed me for the longest time before he pulled his gaze back to the road, cracking his neck without responding.
“I’m just saying, it’s been two years since you quote, unquote, dated — and even that is a stretch, all things considered.”
Reese’s face fell flat at that.
“I’m not trying to dredge up old Charlie feelings or anything,” I said quickly. “I’m just saying… even if Jennifer isn’t the right one, she could be the right one to get you out of your funk. Maybe open you up to dating again. You know?”
Reese apparently didn’t know, because he just stared forward, the muscle in his jaw flexing as he gripped the wheel so tight his knuckles were the color of my uncle’s face. He shook his head, almost imperceptibly, before he finally responded.
“So, you want me to go on a date? That’s what you’re saying?”
No.
God, no.
Not even a little bit.
It’s the absolute last thing I want.
“Yeah,” I answered instead, swallowing down any other response my brain was screaming at me.
Or rather, my heart.
“I do. I think it’ll be good for you.”
Reese laughed, the sound so soft and laced with distaste that I wasn’t sure it could even be classified as a true laugh. He shook his head, but didn’t look at me again.
“Fine. Guess I’ll go on a date, then.”
I swallowed, forcing a smile like I’d won, like him agreeing to take Jennifer out was somehow a victory.
When we made it back to his place, Reese offered me a stiff hug goodbye before taking Rojo inside. I stood there in his driveway for the longest time, staring at his front door. I didn’t know why I was rooted to that spot, why I felt so physically ill that throwing up was the only thing I wanted to do in that moment to find some sort of relief.
But I tore myself from the spot, climbing into my uncle’s car and driving the ten minutes it took me to get home in complete silence.
This is the right thing, I told myself. Reese will be happier with someone like her.
Someone who isn’t me.
I said those words in my mind, over and over and over again — even after I’d slipped inside the house and closed the door to the piano room, taking a seat at the bench. I immediately began working on the piece Reese had assigned me, but it felt flat, and my desire to sing was somewhere right around my desire to see Jennifer Stinson again.
My shoulders fell, hands collapsing on the keys as an ugly string of notes rang out.
If this was the right thing to do, if pushing Reese away was what was best… why did I feel so sick?
***
A week later, I stared at my former best friend’s name on my phone like pressing the DIAL button would set off a nuclear bomb.
It’d been a rough seven days.
The piece Reese had assigned me was harder for me than I expected — mostly because I couldn’t tap into the same emotion as the composer. I wanted to nail it, drive it home when I performed it tomorrow at our Sunday lesson, but I felt like I was miles away from grasping what I needed to in order to accomplish that.
Not only was I struggling with the assignment, but Reese had been distant and cold at our lessons that week. If it was even possible, he seemed to be back to the same grump he’d been the first time we’d met. I tried to convince myself he was just doing what I’d asked him to do. He was acting as my teacher, not my friend. And that’s what I wanted. I didn’t come to Pennsylvania to make friends.
The problem was that I had, anyway.
Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I loved hanging out with Reese. I wanted to be around him — not just when he was teaching me, but all the time.
Maybe that’s why my stomach had lurched at our Thursday lesson when Jennifer had called him and he’d agreed to take her out Saturday night.
AKA tonight.
He hadn’t so much as acknowledged the call when it was over, picking up our lesson right where he’d left it like I hadn’t just heard him tell another woman that he’d pick her up at seven on Saturday night. And I knew it didn’t matter, that he was doing exactly what I’d asked him to do — true to his word, just like I knew he would be.
But I still sat there on his piano bench with a thick, sticky tongue for the rest of our lesson.
Now, here it was five o’clock on Saturday evening. Reese was probably showering. He was probably shaving, laying out his clothes, spritzing himself with the cologne th
at I loved so much. He was probably combing his hair back into a nice, neat bun at the nape of his neck, probably lighting up a cigarette to ease his nerves.
And I was here, alone.
It was just as it should be. I wanted him to date, to move on from Charlie, to find a step forward. I wanted him to be happy.
I just hated that it couldn’t be with me.
I needed to talk to someone before my thoughts drove me up the goddamn wall. But I couldn’t tell my mom, definitely couldn’t tell my aunt or uncle, and I’d pushed every other person in my life away when I’d left Bramlock.
Including Reneé.
Sighing, I shook my head and finally tapped the DIAL button, putting the call on speaker. As soon as the rings started filling my room, my stomach tightened, a knot forming in my throat that I had to swallow past when she answered.
“Hello? Sarah?”
I tried to swallow, but couldn’t. I just sat there, tears welling in my eyes at the sound of her voice.
“Sarah, please tell me it’s you.”
“It’s me,” I croaked.
“Oh my God,” she cried in response, and the tears in my eyes welled more, slipping over my cheeks as I covered my mouth with one hand. “It’s really you? I thought you’d died. I thought… I don’t even know. I thought I would never hear from you again.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, choking on my own tears. “I’m so sorry I left you, that I didn’t call or text. I don’t have a valid excuse but I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she assured me. “It’s okay. Whatever your reasoning was, I understand.” She sniffed. “Now, tell me everything to make up for the fact that you’ve given me premature gray hairs.”
I laughed, swiping the tears from my face as I pictured my best friend — warm, brown skin, wide chocolate eyes, hair wild and curly, smile as wide as her face.
“Seriously, start talking. Why the hell didn’t you come back last semester? Where have you been? What have you been doing? Are you sick?” She gasped. “Oh my God… are you dying? Sarah, if you are just now calling to tell me you have some sort of disease and only have a few days to live, I swear to science I’ll fly to wherever you are and kill you myself.”
Best Kept Secrets: The Complete Series Page 70
