Spark of Desire ; All for You

by Sheryl Lister

  He bit down on her neck gently. “Aria,” he groaned.

  “Myles.” She rocked her hips into him as the ache in her belly intensified. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

  He gripped her hips, holding her still. “If you’re not ready—”

  “Shit. Aria!”

  Aria froze when she heard Brent’s booming voice. “Oh, no.” She slid off Myles and hit the floor with a loud bump. Then she jumped up. “Brent, it’s not what you think,” she shouted.

  Brent’s hands were over his eyes. “What the hell are you doing? Oh, I’m traumatized.” He mimicked a gag. “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Oh, shut it,” she yelled.

  “This is the studio, a place of business. No sex.”

  She crossed her arms. “It’s my studio,” she huffed. “Go back to the shop.” Aria glanced over at Myles, who was watching her, amusement in his eyes.

  “I can’t believe you, Aria.” Brent paced the room, muttering a string of curses. “This is a nightmare.”

  “Nothing happened. And Myles was leaving.” She tugged on Myles’s arms, but proved too shaky to move him. He finally took pity on her and stood. “You’re going,” she told him.

  “I am? Why? And didn’t you say he was like a brother to you?”

  “Because it’s against God’s plan for me to see her in this position,” Brent said.

  “Brent! Shut up.” Aria pushed Myles toward the door. “You have to go back to work.”

  “No, I don’t,” Myles said.

  “Okay, but you have to go somewhere else.”

  “Aria.”

  She stopped, peered up at him. God, he looks so good. “I’ll call you.”

  Myles caressed her face and kissed her possessively. When he pulled back, he said, “I’ll go. But I need to make something very clear. Us?” He gestured between them. “It’s happening.” He brushed his mouth over hers again and then walked out.

  * * *

  “Where have you been?” Ian asked, sliding into Myles’s booth in the hospital cafeteria.

  Myles dropped a french fry on his plate and glared at his twin. “Minding my business.”

  “Wow.” Ian leaned back, studying him. “What the hell is your problem?”

  “Nothing,” he grumbled.

  Except he did have a problem. And her name was Aria. It had been a day since their impromptu walk and make-out session. She’d yet to call him, though. Which made Myles grumpy and irritated. Top that off with his father riding him about business and a shift at the hospital that prevented him from banging out his frustration on his piano, and Myles was downright pissed.

  “Bruh, talk.”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “No.”

  Myles and his brothers never talked about women in an I need some advice type of way. Well, he’d never asked for advice. Usually, one of them would just point out if another one of them was acting like a punk or making a stupid decision.

  “Is it Ms. Pennie?” Ian asked, concern in his eyes.

  “No.”

  Myles had checked in with his music teacher just before he headed to the cafeteria. Ms. Pennie had developed radiation pneumonitis, which was caused by radiation therapy aimed at the chest or breast. The doctor had prescribed a steroid and she had been able to go home last week. Myles was thankful the cancer hadn’t spread.

  “That’s good.” Ian gulped his water. “Dad?”

  “I’m not talking,” Myles said.

  “You’re not talking about what?” El said, joining them with a tray of food.

  Annoyed, Myles muttered a curse. “Nothing.”

  “Myles is in a mood,” Ian told El.

  “Ah. Is it my brother?” El bit into his burger.

  When El was a kid, Dr. Law had already graduated from college, married and left home. His grandparents weren’t really around, so Myles’s father took El in and raised him with them.

  “No.”

  For years, Myles had listened to his brothers tell him he needed to stop letting his father run his life. He didn’t need another round of that. While they’d pushed back against Dr. Law, Myles had chosen to chill. He and his dad didn’t have a bad relationship. He wouldn’t say it was a typical father-son relationship, either, but he was okay with that.

  Myles learned a long time ago to keep private things that really mattered to him. While his father knew he played, he’d purposefully kept his music to himself because he knew Dr. Law wouldn’t understand. And Myles didn’t feel like hearing the lectures about making money and career moves. He just wanted to live his life with some peace.

  Nonetheless, his life was anything but peaceful right now, and it was all because he’d gone home yesterday horny and frustrated. He wanted Aria, thought he’d made some headway with her, but she’d literally pushed him out of her studio when Brent walked in. Which meant one of two things—something was going on between Aria and Brent, despite what they said about each other, or Aria was ashamed of Myles. Maybe.

  He rubbed his forehead. “I asked Aria out,” he blurted out.

  El and Ian stopped, food midair.

  “Artist Aria?” El asked, setting his burger back down on his plate.

  “Yes,” Myles grumbled.

  Ian grinned and pointed at El. “I told you. I should have bet you. Wait until Drake hears this.”

  “Is that why you’re scowling?” El opened his bottle of water. “Did she say no?”

  “No,” Myles responded.

  “Are you going to give us more than one-word answers?” El asked.

  Myles glared at his uncle-brother. El was an emergency psychiatrist, and it was in his nature to try to shrink people. He pushed his tray away from him. “No.”

  “Well, nice talking to you, bruh.” El laughed. He tipped his chin in Ian’s direction. “He’s got it bad.”

  “I’ve never had to work this hard for a date,” Myles announced. “And just when I thought she was on board, her friend comes in and she basically flips out.”

  “What friend?” Ian leaned forward.

  “The guy that was hanging around her at the opening.”

  El cocked a brow. “Brent?”

  “Yes,” Myles growled.

  El laughed. “They’re just friends. Nothing going on there.”

  “And you know this because...?”

  “I know Brent,” El said. “And Avery told me.”

  Myles guessed he should feel better. But he didn’t know how to feel. In a matter of weeks, Aria had turned his life upside down, had him going to Applebee’s and out for walks in the middle of the day. That wasn’t him. He was all schedules and work and women who didn’t require much effort. Even still, he’d wanted to do those things. With her. He didn’t mind Applebee’s or Italian ice because he was with her. And it infuriated him that he didn’t know how she felt.

  Yes, she wanted him. He could tell that she was attracted to him. Attraction was fleeting, though. It went with the moment, with too much to drink or with the weather. The chemistry was strong, obviously. But the fact that he couldn’t go a day without thinking about her or imagining her smile told him that it was more than that for him. Which was ridiculous, since they hadn’t even gone out on a real date.

  He blinked, shaking his head as if it would clear his mind. When he glanced up at his brothers, they were staring at him, mouths open. Frowning, he asked, “What?”

  “Wow,” Ian said. “You do have it bad. Welcome to the club.”

  Without a word, Myles picked up his tray and left.

  As he hurried toward the surgical wing of the hospital, Myles pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his contacts, he paused when he saw Aria’s name and debated whether he should call or text or just let it go. It bothered him that she hadn’t called when she’d said she would. When did I turn into that guy?
<
br />   Show me you.

  Her words repeated in his mind on an endless loop. Could he do that? Honestly, he’d struggled with it. The reason he always remained calm and disciplined had everything to do with the way he managed to keep people and their problems at arm’s length. Showing Aria who he was could potentially threaten that peace he tried so hard to hold on to. Was it worth it?

  Sighing, he typed out a text. Still waiting on that call.

  The little dots bounced around the screen immediately and he smiled, picturing her face as she tried to figure out how to respond. They hadn’t known each other long at all, but he felt like he understood her, like they were two sides of the same coin.

  Yesterday, it had taken everything in him not to pick her up, carry her out of the studio and take her home. So he could show her just how real the connection was. Their make-out session was unexpected because he really hadn’t gone there for that. At the same time, it was undeniable. She was so perfect. Soft in all the right places, responsive. He didn’t want to push her, and he wanted her in a way he’d never wanted any other woman. Still, there was something about him that made her hesitate, like she didn’t believe it, believe him.

  Finally a text came through. I’m sorry. Good news, though. I haven’t canceled our date yet.

  Myles chuckled and typed out a quick response. That is good news.

  How should I dress?

  Like you.

  One of the things he liked about Aria was that she wasn’t afraid to be herself. She dressed how she wanted, styled her hair for her. She marched to a beat that she’d created for herself. Something about that appealed to him. When she’d strolled out of the studio yesterday before their walk, he could barely catch his breath. Paint everywhere, hair wild and free, clunky old boots, and she was still the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

  Myles was a realist. He’d never waxed poetic about anything or anybody, yet he couldn’t seem to help himself with Aria. That was why he knew this would happen. He just had to be patient.

  I hope you know that flattery doesn’t really work on me.

  Myles fired off a “sad face” emoji and barked out a laugh when she responded with a gif of a woman winking at him. Just sayin’.

  I’m just speaking the truth.

  Okay. I’ll dress like me. And I’m looking forward to seeing you.

  Myles knew what that meant. She’d thrown down a gauntlet of sorts with her “show me you” request, and answered. Friday. See you soon.

  Have a good week.

  He made a decision in that moment to share a part of himself he’d never shared with a date. Friday, he’d bring Aria into his world.

  Chapter 7

  Myles walked into the studio Friday evening. Aria had texted him earlier and asked him to pick her up there because she had a class late afternoon and wouldn’t have time to go home and change. Brent was seated on a chair, talking on the phone. When Brent noticed him, he told Myles that Aria would be right out.

  Myles nodded and waited. He heard Brent talking to someone he assumed was a date because Brent had told the person on the line to be waiting for him with no clothes on at the door when he got there.

  Brent ended the call and stood, approaching him with his hand outstretched. “What’s up, man? Aria is in the back trying on too many outfits to count.”

  Myles gave him dap. “I told her to dress like her.”

  The other man shrugged. “I told her the same thing. But...women.”

  Shoving his hands in his pockets, Myles laughed. “My sister is the same way. Never satisfied with the first outfit.”

  Brent studied him silently.

  Never one to shy away from anyone, Myles met his stare straight on. “Aria is perfect the way she is.”

  “Definitely. It took her a long time to get to the point where she believed it, and there are still times when I have to remind her.” It was obvious Brent cared about Aria and wanted to be sure Myles wasn’t going to disrupt her life. “Listen, Aria is family, since we were kids. I’ve seen her hurt too many times by men with agendas. If you’re pursuing her as some sort of project or because of some pre-midlife crisis, don’t. Hurt her, and I’ll hurt you.”

  Myles tilted his head. The threat coming from Brent was unmistakable, but it didn’t make him angry. If anything, it made him respect the other man. He would say the same thing to anyone who would date Mel, and he was glad Aria had someone who had her back. “I can respect that. I feel the same way about my sister. Just so you know, I asked Aria out because I like her, not for any other reason.”

  “Myles?” He turned to find Aria standing in the doorway to the room, a smile on her face. She stepped forward, and he didn’t miss the glare she shot Brent’s way as she neared him. “Don’t mind Brent. He’s just—”

  “Looking out for his friend,” Myles interjected. “I would do the same for Mel.”

  “That’s right, Aria,” Brent said, as he headed out of the room. “Have fun.”

  Once they were alone, Myles paused a minute to take her in. He’d expected her to come out in jeans and a colorful blouse; instead, she wore a short red halter dress and strappy sandals. Her hair was loose, flowing in deep waves down her back. The purple highlights she’d worn the last time he’d seen her had been replaced by bright red streaks. But it wasn’t the dress that drew his attention—it was the ink on her left arm, running underneath the fabric of her dress. He wanted to twirl her around, peel off her dress, so he could see every inch of her. Simply stunning.

  She peered up at him, a soft smile on her lips. Aria didn’t wear a lot of makeup, which he liked. Her face was smooth, natural. Her eyes were bright. His hands itched with a need to touch her, so he reached out and trailed his fingers down her cheek, loving the way her eyes fluttered closed.

  “You look...”

  “Like me,” she whispered.

  He smiled. “Like you. You’re beautiful.”

  She averted her gaze as a blush worked its way up her bare shoulders and neck. He watched her face, transfixed. He found himself cataloguing everything about her, memorizing the lines of her face. The studio was bright, and he noticed a blue ring around her irises. In that moment, he knew his life had forever changed.

  Tearing his eyes away from her, he asked, “Are you ready?”

  Nodding, she said, “I am.” She pulled at his shirt. “You didn’t wear a suit.”

  Myles had chosen to dress in a pair of jeans and a black shirt. “No suit tonight.”

  “It’s ridiculous how fine you are.” Her eyes widened and she clamped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

  She dropped her head onto his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you did.” He pulled back, held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Baker’s Keyboard Lounge was a Detroit staple. Myles remembered convincing Ian to snag fake IDs so they could get in when they were younger. The jazz club had a rich history of showcasing major acts from the region, around the country and abroad. Aria had asked him to show her who he was, and he figured this was the perfect atmosphere to do so.

  When they arrived, he led her into the dining room. The hostess, Jackie, smiled and greeted him by name. She escorted them to a secluded booth near the back of the place. The main room was small, and there was no dancing. Just people ready to listen to good music. This particular night, a friend of Myles was headlining.

  Once they were seated and their drinks were ordered, Aria turned to him. “You brought me to a jazz club.”

  He wrapped an arm around her. “Yes, I did.”

  The bar was packed as usual. Purple uplighting set the romantic, intimate mood. People were seated near the stage, eating and drinking. The music was loud and lively, and Myles felt right at home. He always did. Altho
ugh he was classically trained, jazz was his first love. The first jazz song he’d ever played was “In a Sentimental Mood” by John Coltrane and Duke Ellington. He’d spent hours listening to Coltrane, Davis and Ellington. Other artists like Oscar Peterson, Vince Guaraldi and Herbie Hancock also shaped his own music. The sound of fingers tapping keys, the blare of the trumpet, the pulse of the drums and the smooth sound of the sax had always made him feel alive.

  “What is it about this particular place that represents you?” Her eyes searched his, looking for something he wasn’t sure he wanted her to see. “The music, the food?”

  He sucked in a deep breath. “Music is everything to me.”

  She smiled. “Do you play?”

  Nodding, he said, “Yes.”

  “What do you play?”

  “Piano, mostly. And a few other instruments.”

  Once again, Myles was hit with the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen up close. His stomach roiled as desire shot through his body.

  “I have to say, that’s pretty amazing. Why do I get the feeling you don’t share that with many people?”

  “Because I don’t.”

  Aria picked up his hand, offering him comfort and understanding with that one motion. “I get it. I’m extremely private about my art. I don’t show anyone my work until it’s complete. Except Brent. And even then, it takes a long time for me to get to the point where I want to sell something.”

  “Music is something that’s mine,” he confessed softly. “It has offered the gift of expression. It has inspired me and comforted me. It’s my drug, my therapist and my friend. It’s my life.”

  Myles swallowed, surprised he’d admitted that to her. But he knew she’d understand. She’d get it. Because art was like that for her.”

  “That’s beautiful,” she whispered, leaning closer. Her eyes dropped to his lips. “Music for you, is like my art for me.”