Listen

by Kris Bryant

  “Let’s just go.”

  I reached out and touched her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m fine. Really. Let’s have a good meal.” I pleaded with her until she believed me. Picking at my omelet and the giant biscuit on my plate under the guise of eating, I encouraged her to continue our conversation. It took effort for me to swallow. All of my senses were on overdrive and my throat was constricted with the heaviness of my sudden realization. Sounds were louder, smells were stronger, and heat blossomed in my chest and swelled against my ribs. Love was strange and not at all like I was led to believe in movies and books.

  “Lily?”

  I snapped out of my daydream. “What?”

  “Are you ready to go?” Hope had already paid the bill and I completely missed it.

  “Sure. I’m sorry. I don’t know where I just went.” I followed her out of the restaurant and blinked in the bright sun. It was getting hotter earlier in the day.

  Hope slipped on a pair of sunglasses and reached for my hand. “What are you doing right now?”

  I wanted time to myself to process last night and this morning. I needed to get away from her, but I didn’t want to leave her side. I was in a quandary. My thoughts scattered like pick-up sticks and I grasped for anything solid. “I have a few things to do before tonight. Do you mind if we just meet up later today?”

  She pulled me into her arms. My stomach quaked like a trapped animal. I was afraid she could feel my trembling, but she carried on as if holding me was something we did every day.

  “I get it. Can you come over to my house at eight? Since the club is closer to my place.”

  “I’ll be there.” I kissed her again and walked in the opposite direction to be alone with my thoughts. I was in love and yet I was running away from it. I called Dr. Monroe but got her answering service. I was going to have to deal with this breakthrough on my own. I tuned out the world and all of its noises and concentrated on my feelings even though I already knew what they meant.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You look incredible.” Hope opened the door, gave me a look over, and pulled me into her arms for a passionate kiss. Just the sight of her kicked my heart rate up a few notches and made me hold her a little tighter.

  “So do you.” I pulled back to get a better view of her tight outfit. She was wearing black pants and a black pullover that showed off her curves. I tingled just remembering those curves pressing against my body last night. I was ready to pick up from where we left off, but I had a feeling I was going to have to wait.

  “We have a few minutes if you want to sit down for a bit.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice was huskier and her skin was warm and flushed.

  My girlfriend wanted a quick makeout session. Images of last night flashed continuously in my mind as I pulled her to the couch and sat down. She surprised me by straddling my lap. I ran my hands up and down her thighs.

  “We don’t even have to go if you don’t want to,” I said. I smiled because that was something she would have said to me.

  “I want to go, but I’d like a little private time with you first.”

  I didn’t have time to respond. Her mouth pressed against mine, hungrily, greedily. My hands slid up to her waist and I pulled her closer against me. I softly pressed into her, eliciting a delicious moan that started deep in her chest and landed against my lips. We spent a solid ten minutes grinding against one another until I stopped us and carefully removed my hands from underneath her shirt.

  “If we don’t leave now, we’re staying here.” I tried to lighten the mood. “Plus, I think I’m wrinkling you.” I already knew I was a mess.

  She pressed her forehead against mine and sighed. We were both breathing hard. My body was swollen and throbbing in all of the sensitive places I wanted her to touch. I felt her nod.

  “You’re right. We can pick this back up later.”

  She slowly untangled herself from my body. I almost whimpered with regret. I slid my hand into hers and she pulled me up. She looked at my lips and licked hers. We were so close, physically and emotionally, but now was not the time. Hope had to be somewhere and I needed to respect that. I wanted to smile and shake this feeling, but this feeling was love, and I had fallen too hard and too deep to brush it off. I was at a loss for words.

  “The bar is just a few blocks down. Are you sure you’re up for this? I can cancel,” she said.

  “Let’s go. I’ll be fine.” I almost believed myself. If it got overwhelming, I would just slip out for a minute or concentrate on Hope.

  I was pleasantly surprised when she reached for her saxophone.

  “You’re going to play tonight? Then we are definitely going.”

  “You mean there was a chance we would stay here and not go?” She tried to joke about it, but we both felt the heaviness of the moment.

  I pulled her to me. “Somebody once said we had all the time in the world and we shouldn’t rush things.”

  She hung her head. “Yeah, and look at what happened. I pounced on you last night.”

  I cupped her chin and lifted it so that she would look into my eyes. “You didn’t do anything that I didn’t want, too. We’ve discussed this. We’re both adults, and last night was so incredibly special and important to me. Don’t worry so much.”

  “You are entirely too perfect, Lily Croft,” she said.

  I snorted. “You know me better than that. I’m a hot mess on most days. Thank you for keeping me grounded.”

  ***

  “Wow.” That’s the only thing I could think of when we walked into the place. Hope’s friend Miles unlocked the door and quickly ushered us in. There were about thirty people in the room and eight onstage. I felt myself internally shrink at all of the activity. So many people were talking, laughing, drinking, and then there was the music onstage. My mind tried to shut out everything and concentrate, but we were passed from couple to couple as Hope tried to work her way to the stage. She grabbed my hand and held me close to her body as she answered questions and hugged everybody who recognized her. Hope D’Marco was very popular in this scene. I was oddly proud of her as I watched her talk with her friends. She was quick to introduce me to them and faster to lead me away.

  “Do you want to sit at a table by yourself or onstage off to the side? Which would be more comfortable for you?”

  I pointed to a booth that was off to the side. “That looks good. I can still see you and the rest of the musicians.”

  She made sure I was comfortable before she left to order us drinks. I took a few deep breaths and focused on the rhythm of music onstage. There was laughter and a quick discussion about notes, but the musicians fell into a rhythm that I felt deep in my bones. I smiled. The music didn’t make me anxious.

  “Here you go.” Hope set a glass in front of me. “A mojito will hit you in all the right spots.”

  The rum immediately assaulted my senses when I leaned in to get a whiff of the ingredients. This was a strong drink, but it also had a hint of sweetness. I smacked my lips in approval after the first sip. This was delicious and was going to get me into trouble. I’d have to go slow.

  “Hey, I’m fine. Go play. I want to hear you.” I swear she blushed. I found it endearing that she was nervous to play in front of me.

  She unlatched the case and gently lifted the saxophone out and secured it around her neck. She kissed me softly, popped the reed in her mouth to moisten it, and made her way to the stage. I was amazed at how quickly she fell into the pickup song after only listening to a few notes. She was fantastic. The best one up there. She had complete control, and I knew every single note she played was for me. I wanted to close my eyes and just listen and absorb the music, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Hope. She was confident and sure even though just last night she told me she needed to practice more.

  Last night. I leaned back in the booth and thought about last night. The smile on my face couldn’t have been larger. I absently twirled the empty mojito glass in front of me and thought about how
different my life was twenty-four short hours ago. I never expected my feelings to be so powerful or that I would be so sure of something. I wanted to touch her. I wanted her to touch me, but she let me move at my own pace.

  After playing for about half an hour, Hope bowed out and headed toward me with two glasses of water.

  “You were incredible,” I said.

  She beamed at me, her smile warming me from the inside. “I’m glad I slipped right in. I was afraid I would stumble around up there, but it was fun.” She drank half of her water before she sat across from me in the booth. The music was still loud, but we were far enough away to have a conversation.

  “Are you done or just taking a break?” I was surprised that my anxiety was at an all time low.

  “I think I’m done. It’s hard for two saxophones to compete and I just wanted to hang out here for a minute or two.”

  “I’m having a good time. Thank you for including me.”

  She held my hand across the table. “I’m happy you decided to come. I know how much you appreciate music and how hard it is for you to be in a crowd.”

  “Well, hiding out in this booth isn’t really being submerged in a crowd. Nobody even knows I’m here.” My anxiety was under control and I was able to enjoy the music onstage even though Hope wasn’t up there. Flushed from playing, with a smile from ear to ear, she was very adorable.

  “Scoot over. I want to sit next to you.” She stood up and sat next to me on the bench.

  Her body was warm and there was a slight sheen on her forehead from playing and the heat of the lights. She was beautiful. I rubbed her arm softly and smiled when her muscles jumped under my touch.

  “I’m sorry I’m so sweaty. It’s so hot onstage. I can’t imagine what it would be like with a full house.”

  I watched her watch the performers. She laughed with them and clapped for them. She had a healthy passion for music. I wanted that. I was sure that I had it at one point when I was much younger, but somewhere along the way my competitive drive got in the way of the art of music. I closed my eyes and focused on each instrument individually and how they paired together.

  “What do you hear?” Hope asked.

  I smiled. “I hear a great time.” I was proud of my answer.

  “That’s not good enough. What else?” I felt her hand on my leg, resting above my knee, but below my thigh. I almost jumped at the contact, but the weight felt good and suppressed the shiver that threatened to bubble up.

  I held my breath and focused. My eyes were still closed. “People are laughing, snapping their fingers, and clinking their glasses against other glasses. The bartender is talking to a waitress. I hear each instrument individually, and the melody as a whole. The saxophonist isn’t as good as the woman who just played, but it’s passable.”

  I felt Hope playfully nudge me with her shoulder. I opened my eyes.

  “You’re being sweet and kind. Charlie has been playing longer than I’ve been alive. Nobody plays the sax like he does.”

  He was really good, but I was wooing my girlfriend.

  “He probably only plays the sax. You play everything and you teach.” I was fierce about her and her ability. I was biased, but I loved her playing before I even knew the musician behind the music that touched me. Maybe I was ready to open up and feel it in my bones again, but she was the first to break through in over a decade, and that made her special.

  Miles approached the table. “Hope, that was great. I’m so glad you came.” He apologized for interrupting and asked if we were enjoying ourselves. Hope invited him to join us and he happily sat across from us. “Lily, do you play any instruments? Are you going to hit the stage tonight?”

  I stared at him like deer in headlights.

  “Lily’s a wonderful music aficionado. She’s been such a big help to me on the piano. She’s actually very good with all instruments.”

  “Maybe she can help me with the trumpet. You know how much I struggle with that.”

  “You were great up there. You don’t need any help.” I was being truthful. Jazz was a forgiving genre, especially an impromptu jam session where it was more about respecting other musicians sharing the stage than one’s own moment of glory. Solos were a thing for a reason.

  “You know musicians are never happy with our performances.” He laughed and reached out to squeeze my hand.

  I didn’t feel the need to draw back or recoil because his touch didn’t bother me. As a matter of fact, it was encouraging. He made me want to play, too. What was happening to me? The walls that protected my former self were starting to crack. Hope knew exactly how to keep chipping away at their hardness. First herself, then the kids, now this. Blue Eden was a bar I would gladly frequent. Miles waved over three more drinks and spent a good half an hour sitting with us, telling fantastic tour stories of missing instruments and famous people he played with who encouraged him even more. To me, that was a sign a musician did their job, making inspiring music that was beautiful and changed lives. I’d like to think my music changed lives and maybe would again.

  Hope flipped her wrist to check the time when Miles left us. My heart leapt in my chest. I knew what could happen tonight. I knew what I wanted to happen. I wanted to pick up where we left off, but truthfully, I was glad we had gone out.

  “Are you ready to go?” I knew if I didn’t ask, Hope wouldn’t push. She knew my hangups and also knew I was enjoying myself.

  “Only if you are.”

  She scooted out of the booth and reached for my hand. I didn’t let her go until she said her good-byes in the form of hugs and kisses. I stood awkwardly at her side as people hugged me, too. Some people shook my hand instead, sensing I was standoffish and not entirely comfortable with their nearness.

  “Spread the word, Hope. We will, too.” Miles waved the stack of flyers Hope handed him when we arrived. “We’ll be at the next concert. Maybe you and I can play a song or two.”

  I knew that would generate traffic for both the Leading Note and Blue Eden. I was excited to be a part of it and see how successful both businesses would be. Music. It was starting to become a thing for me again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “That was so much fun. Really. Thank you.”

  She squeezed my hand playfully and tugged me toward her for a kiss.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. That’s the fun thing about jazz. A jam session like that doesn’t have any structure, so you don’t have to worry about missed notes or stumbles. It’s so smooth, most people don’t even know when there’s a mistake.”

  The classical training in me couldn’t help but notice, but it didn’t bother me, surprisingly.

  “What do you have in store for me now?” I held her wrist up to check the time.

  “Let’s hang out at my place for a bit. I’m still pumped up about tonight. But only if you want to. I know you probably want to get home to Clio.”

  I stopped her right there and kissed her. “Clio can wait. I’ve spoiled him too much over the last few years.” I wasn’t ready for this night to be over. I followed her up the stairs to her apartment and made myself comfortable on the couch.

  “Again, I’m going to have to excuse myself for about ten minutes. I’m still hot from playing.”

  The last time she showered, she came out wearing tiny shorts and a tank top. I was hoping for the same kind of luck. My anxiety ramped up when she left, so I paced into the kitchen and back to the living room, and panicked slightly when I heard a door open. I turned to find Hope wearing only a long cotton nightshirt that brushed the tops of her thighs. The light pink V-neck was loose enough to be comfortable, yet tight enough to show the shape of her body. Hope had curves and full breasts.

  I swallowed hard and stared at her. I couldn’t have imagined a more beautiful woman standing in front of me. The ends of her wet hair brushed across her nightshirt right below her hardened nipples. The thin material was virtually see-through where it was damp. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I was frozen
in place.

  “You could have helped yourself to anything. Can I get you a drink?”

  She placed her hand on my stomach as she walked by to head into the kitchen. I responded without thought. I reached out and pulled her against me. I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her. She moaned and moved close to me. When her body pushed up against mine, I lowered my hands to her hips and held her steady. Without breaking the kiss, she pulled me over to the couch, but I stopped her.

  “Is there any way we can go into your room? I just mean because there is more space. I love that couch, don’t get me wrong, but…”

  Her kiss held a small, knowing smile that disappeared as she pulled me down the hall, touching me, slightly tugging at my clothes but giving me space to turn around if I needed to. I didn’t even look around once she opened the door. My eyes were on Hope and the queen-size bed behind her. She crawled up on the bed once we reached the frame and reached out for me. I didn’t hesitate. I followed her onto the bed until we were both on our sides facing one another.

  “Are you okay?” Hope asked. She ran her fingertips delicately across my face and down my bare shoulder.

  I shivered at how careful she was and the intensity I saw in her eyes. I nodded. I didn’t want to talk. I leaned forward and kissed away the doubt and hesitation she had. I was ready for this moment. Dreamed about it my entire life. Even when I was young and didn’t know what sex was, I knew there was intimacy. I trusted Hope with my heart and body.

  “I want this. I want you. More than anything.” There was no other place I wanted to be than right there.

  Hope took my hand and moved it down her neck, ran it between the valley of her breasts and down to the soft folds between her thighs. My eyes widened when I felt her slick core. She rubbed my fingers up and down her slit, then moved them away. I understood what she wanted. She pushed into my hand, her back arched up, her breasts pressed against mine.