How To Save A Life (Emerald Cove #1)

by Lauren K. McKellar

  I lick my lips and scan my eyes over the sheet music Jase had placed there. I know the song, and even though I've never played it, it isn't particularly difficult. I don't have any doubt I can make it work.

  My hands shake as I raise them over the keys, and I lick my lips. What if I screw it up? What if Jase doesn't see this as the apology I mean it to be after all? What if ... what if someone recognises me and asks questions?

  I press my legs up to stand. I can't do this. I can't be the centre of attention. Not here. Not now.

  I'm about to walk away when I feel Jase's stare from the bar.

  Don't look.

  Do not look.

  Do not look at—

  Jase's eyes are wide, and there's this stupidly hopeful smile on his face. As if me being here is something great. Something to be excited about.

  Before I even realise what I'm doing, my fingers are strategically placing and slamming into the keyboard, hitting those opening notes of the song.

  And to my enormous surprise, a hush doesn't fall over the crowd. People don't stop, fold their arms and get ready to judge. Instead, they go about their business, voices rising and falling in cadence, drinks clinking with other drinks, and shakers at the bar rattling with ice.

  It's as if no one notices as I play out the entire story of this apologetic song, except for Jase, whose eyes are always on me, always watching me, as if I'm the most important thing in the world.

  Or, I think no one's listening. But at the end, when the final note lingers in the air, a few people around the bar clap. It's hardly a standing ovation, and this venue is far from the Opera House. But they listened. And they liked it.

  A guy strolls over from a group of six who were standing, leaning against the bar, just as I'm getting up to go back to work. "Do you know any newer stuff?"

  I shake my head. "I ..." I glance up, and Jase is looking at me, a great big smile on his face. I don't know if he heard what the guy in front of me said or he just guesses, but he nods enthusiastically, urging me to continue. "Sure," I finish, and smile, sitting back down.

  This time, when I start a modern number about love and heartache and loss, lots of people seem to stop and listen, and I even notice a few of them swaying to the music. All the while I'm losing myself deeper and deeper, falling further in love with performing than I ever thought possible.

  I’ve done plenty of performances in class before, and I know I’ll have to audition in front of judges in a few weeks time, but out here, playing music for real people in the real world? There’s something so much scarier about it.

  Something that makes me feel so much more alive.

  I play five more songs before I notice the empty glasses piling up on tables, and I immediately step up and get to work clearing them away. I'm balancing a particularly tall stack against my chest and offloading them, one by one, onto the countertop when hands snake around my waist.

  "You are amazing," he whispers in my ear, and the excitement that had been bouncing around inside me all reaches fever pitch. I shove the remaining glasses onto the counter and turn around to face him, Jase, the guy who made this all possible, and leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and kissing his cheek.

  "Thank you, thank you, thank you," I breathe in his ear.

  "Thank me?" He pulls back to look me in the eye. "What are you thanking me for? You're the one with the amazing talent who just made half of this bar stand up and take notice."

  My cheeks burn, and I swear I must have caught some crazy girly disease, because I'm not usually this much of a blusher, and damn it, it was just a stupid line.

  A stupid line from a guy I really like.

  A stupid line that might be true.

  "I ..." I shake my head and shrug, then fall forward again, resting my chin on his shoulder. I want everything in life to feel as good as this moment. Everything to be this blissful and complete.

  "Seriously, guys, they say third time lucky, but I'm not feelin' it."

  "Sorry, Kyle," Jase and I chant in unison, and I slide down from his waist, over his hard body, and to the floor.

  "At least look like you mean it." He rolls his eyes, but he has a stupid cheesy grin on his face, and I can't help but think that maybe Kyle's a sucker for a bit of love, too.

  Wait, love?

  "Just checking in to see if we have anymore Angostura bitters, boss. Can't see it on the shelves," Kyle says.

  "I'll look in the stock room," Jase says, but his eyes don't leave mine. And to me, they say want. Need. And a zillion other things that are doing funny things to my girly bits.

  He walks out of the room, and I continue my shift. Thanks to my impromptu break, there's plenty to do, and before I know it the clock strikes twelve, and people start filtering out the front door, a whole lot more peacefully than they did the night prior.

  Kyle and Hope head home, and as I glance out the window on my way to the stock room to refill the beer fridge, I catch them lingering suspiciously close to one another in the car park. I smile. Maybe Kyle won't be the only one to be catching inappropriate moments in the neat future.

  I'm halfway through filling the fridge when Jase's hand lingers on my shoulder.

  "Wanna go for a walk?"

  No, thanks, it's cold.

  No. It's late and I need to go home.

  Dude, I'm in the middle of something here, yeah?

  "Sure," I reply.

  I grab my bag and we walk outside, Jase locking the stockroom door behind us. It's cold out, and he wraps his arm around me and even though I'd like to say it's just like in the movies and all of a sudden I can't feel anything but him, I totally can and my nipples are so freezing that I'm worried brushing against a tree will send them flying off.

  We walk in silence for a while, the sound of the lake lapping at the shore the only noise.

  "You were incredible back there tonight." Jase stops, and his face is all seriousness. "That was nothing short of amazing."

  I snort. "It was nothing. Just a few songs ..." I flick my hand in the air, as if it wasn't one of the scariest things I've ever done.

  "You and I both know it took guts. And you nailed it." He puffs up his chest. "I'm really proud of you."

  It's strange to hear someone I've known such a short time say those words, but then I think about how much an important part of my life Jase has become since I've met him, and I know. I know that out of everyone in my life, he's the one who can lay most ownership to that claim.

  "Thanks," I say, rubbing my hands over my upper arms to keep warm. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

  Jase turns and starts walking again, and I follow close behind. "I don't want to push you too hard or too fast, Lia. And I know you're talking about a scholarship to Melbourne but—"

  "I have to go, Jase." I can't let him finish that sentence.

  "But if you don't make it—"

  "I cannot stay." My words are final, firm.

  But for the first time, I don't want them to be. Not once when I was with Duke did I consider staying just to be with him. But right now, the idea of leaving this amazing thing we have developing seems as if it could break me even more than I already am.

  Emotions play tug o' war on his face, and Jase wrestles with some demons dancing around in his head. "Long distance, then. Or maybe I could consider opening a Melbourne branch of Class." He nods and scuffs his shoe in the dirt, continuing to walk.

  His offer warms my heart, but this isn’t a schoolkid choosing where to go to uni. This is real life. "Long distance." I grab his hand and we link fingers.

  We walk further until we're almost at the beach, and the crashing of waves on the shore is playing in the background.

  I glance at my phone. It's nearly two in the morning. "I should probably go ..."

  "Wanna go swimming?"

  His smile is dangerous, flirty, and I feel it in every part of my body.

  And then he's taking off his shirt, unbuttoning it, one by one, and exposing that holy-bej
eezus-it's-good chest. My eyes open wider and it takes everything in me not to reach out and touch those perfectly sculpted abs, that delicious V that leads down to—

  His hands start on his belt, and he pulls the leather through the buckle, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "Like what you see?"

  I swallow. This is getting really close to naked, and he's not—surely he wouldn't—"You're not going to ..."

  "Strip?" he asks suggestively, and his jeans fall to his ankles. He toes off his shoes and his pants go with them.

  I swallow, and take in this exceptionally good-looking man standing before me, clad in only a tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs. Wow. Just wow.

  "Care to join me?" He steps in close, so close I can feel his warm breath on my lips, can see the goosebumps cloaking his shoulders. "You don't want to get all these clothes wet."

  Then his fingers are at my shirt and I'm hypnotised, his willing victim as he unbuttons one, two, three—I grab his hands with both of mine, pushing them away. "I can't ..." I shake my head. "I've never been skinny dipping."

  And you cannot see my stomach.

  Not now.

  Not ever.

  "There's a first time for everything," he says. "And tonight you already played your first public gig. Why not make it a night of firsts?"

  God, if only he knew what a first me stripping for him would be.

  The weird thing is, a part of me wants this. There's a part of me that's tired of bearing the burden of being Lia the Lost all by myself. There's a part of me that wants some help. That wants someone to believe in me.

  All I ever wanted was someone to believe.

  "Jase." I place my hands on his shoulders. "Can I ask you something? Something weird?"

  An easy smile plays on his lips. "If it's pornography related, yes, I've watched it, but no, I've never done it."

  “Ha!” I laugh, then clap my hand to my mouth. "You have no idea what kind of porno you've just made me think of ..." And it's nice to look back on a memory of Duke and actually laugh.

  "Seriously, Lia. What's up?"

  In, out. Deep breath. "Do you ... I have secrets, Jase. And some of them ... some are kind of bad."

  His face is complete sincerity. "I'm here."

  "If I ... show you something ..." Here goes nothing, "... will you just ... let it be?"

  For the second time tonight, emotions seem to war across his face, and he opens and shuts his mouth at least three times before finally settling on a sentence. I can't blame the guy. For all he knows, I'm about to show him a mysterious third boob I've been taping down.

  Although seriously, what guy wouldn't like a third boob?

  "Lia, I can't promise that." He bites his lip. "I care about you. So, so much. And I want to be there for you, and help you, and—damn." He runs his hands through his hair, and my eyes drift to those muscled arms of his once more. "But part of that is trusting you. And I know that the woman who played piano in my bar tonight, the woman who's studying so hard for a scholarship against hundreds of other people—she wouldn't let someone walk over her. Because that's not the Lia Stanton I'm falling in love with."

  His words send a chill down my spine, and I suck in a deep breath. I have to trust him. I have to let him in.

  The first person I've truly let in in the last eighteen months.

  I pick up where he left off, and unbutton my shirt. I keep the material closed, as if I'm holding out for a big reveal, and then I shrug the black silky material off, letting it pool at my feet.

  I'm exposed, truly out there, letting him see every last bit of me.

  His eyes stay locked on mine for a moment before he lets them venture down. I almost feel them as they run down my throat, to my chest, where I have to admit, they linger a long time. His hands reach around my waist and pull our hips closer together, and then his lips mesh with mine, and I surrender to the sweetness that is his mouth, his extremely talented mouth.

  Then I pull away, because that's not what this is about. This is about confessing secrets. And I'm about to show him my saddest one.

  "Jase," I say in a soft voice. "Look lower."

  He takes a half-step back, and his gaze roams past my breasts—again, after a bit of a lingering stare, one that makes me grateful I'm wearing my nicest bra today—and then settles on my stomach. Without consciously choosing to, I suck in a breath, even though it's not my weight I'm concerned about. That's got nothing on the scar marring my white skin.

  It’s long and jagged, and so slightly raised. It’s from that night all those months ago. It’s evidence of just one accident involving my mother.

  One of the two times she’s hurt me more than just emotionally.

  Jase stares at it for what seems like an eternity, and then he drops to his knees, his mouth slowly pressing against each corner of it in turn, a reverential kiss that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with how he feels about me. I can feel it where our flesh meets, but I feel it much deeper, too. It's as if he's reaching right inside of me. "Not another person—and not even you."

  He traces one finger down the scar on my wrist, and I freeze.

  “No, I didn’t—”

  “You don’t have to explain, Lia.”

  “But I do.” I jerk my hand back. “I’m not a cutter. I just … have a lot of stuff going on.”

  His grip around my wrist tightens. “I know. This isn’t deep enough to be a suicide attempt.” He inhales. “And I’ve seen my share of those. Just know that I’m here for you, Lia. I know this is new, and this is scary … and I’m here.”

  "I'm not going to let it happen again." I reach one hand up and tuck his hair behind his ear. And in that moment, I'm not. Because I'm Lia, who played the piano in a room full of people. I'm Lia, who's actively going up against her mother to try and save her from herself.

  I'm Lia the Learner.

  And I'm quickly falling in love.

  It's a race for whose lips can meet the other's first, and our kiss is fast, passionate and hard as we celebrate the truth I just shared. His tongue begs entry to my mouth and I allow it, and then we're exploring, kissing, and devouring each other as only two people hungry for love can. His hands roam my body, and each touch sets a new part of me on fire. And I'm so quick to burn.

  Then, just when I'm ready to flare up in a heat so intense, he pulls away, licks his lower lip, as if he's just so ready to eat me, and he sheds those boxer-briefs, exposing his really impressive-looking you-know-what, runs to the rocks that border the path and dives into the lake.

  "Holy crap!" he yells, his voice higher than normal, and I laugh. "It is so damn cold in here."

  "I can't believe you just did that." I giggle.

  He shakes his hair left and right, as if he's a duck just submerged. "It is not warm in the lake, Lia. It is not warm in the lake."

  For some reason, that sets me off further, and I clutch at the sides of my stomach as I double over laughing. I'm laughing so hard that at first I don't hear his challenge, but then he asks again.

  "Join me?"

  I purse my lips together. Skinny dipping is stupid. It's irresponsible. It could lead to further naked activity.

  And then I realise I don’t care. I unbutton my jeans fly, wriggle them down my legs, and dive in the water after him.

  It hits me like a freezing cold shock to my system. It's not just the kind of cold you feel when there's a chill out—this cool is all-encompassing, reaching deep inside my bones, traveling through my blood. My hair is wet through, and the wind chill quickly attacks my face, so intense that I shiver.

  I tread water to try and bring my warmth levels up, and slowly swim over to where Jase is doing the same.

  "Cold, huh?" he asks, and his arm pulls me closer to him so at least our body heat keeps us warm. The only bad thing about that is our body heat, the heat of his completely naked body against my near-naked one, and I try not to think about how easy it would be to take things further right now, even though my stupid flirty self is prett
y much lighting fireworks, ready for the party she thinks is going to happen.

  "Freezing," I agree.

  "And to think you're wearing clothes. Imagine what it'd be like naked," Jase taunts.

  "Really? You're gonna call me on cotton panties and a lacy bra?" I try and raise my eyebrows, but my teeth are chattering too hard for it to have any effect.

  Jase doesn't seem to notice though, his gaze flicking down to the see-through material that barely contains my chest. "Now that you mention it ..."

  Then my teeth stop their chatter, because he kisses me again, and even though his lips might be the iciest things mine have ever touched, inside his mouth is warm, and the fire he inspires inside of me is well worth the chill conditions. He pulls me tighter, and I can feel his hardness against me. I move my hips and wrap my legs around his waist, eager for more, desperate for the friction of his touch.

  Soon, we forget about the cold entirely, and we're both lost in this moment that's not entirely him, not entirely me, but altogether us.

  Then, he pulls his lips away, those lips that are full of so much addiction. He breathes out deeply, and I feel it in every cell of my body. "Lia ... I want you so much."

  I run my hand down the side of his face. "I want this too."

  His lips raise in a half-smile. "But I don't want this in a lake that could freeze over at any moment."

  I laugh, and he joins me. "I guess it's not really up there in the most romantic settings ..."

  "Are you kidding?" His palms hit the surface in a mock splash, and I wipe the aftershock from my face. "Lakes are super romantic! It's the chill factor that's ruining it."

  "You worried about shrinkage?" I pretend to look down, but the moon shining off the lake's surface prevents me from seeing anything lower than his really-impressive-damn-do-those-things-dance chest.

  "I'll let you see for yourself if you beat me to the shore." He winks, then starts winging it for the rocks, hell for leather, and even though I've already seen his very impressive package once tonight, and I know that probably, if I asked nicely, he'd let me see it again, I kick off after him, splashing along in this stupid-arsed race.

  I haul myself up on the rocks, unable to wipe the grin from my face. Jase stands above me—boxer briefs on, despite being completely soaked—and he stretches out an arm. I grip onto his hand and pull, using his leverage to get back onto the rocks and to dry land.