Reverb (Songs and Sonatas Book 7)

by Jerica MacMillan

  I’ve never been able to resist him. I’m definitely not going to be able to start now.

  And I have a feeling that this time the withdrawals will be even worse.

  Chapter Five

  Brendan

  For a brief moment, right after we leave the drive-thru, everything between us seems normal. Or what passes as normal for us.

  But we eat in silence, and half an hour later she navigates the freeway exit into a smaller town across the state line in Idaho without a word. We travel past a resort situated on prime real estate on the waterfront and through a downtown full of quaint little shops.

  After passing into the less fashionable end of the main drag that goes through downtown, she takes a right, pointing us down a road curving into the darkness. Off to the right, the fingernail of a crescent moon hangs in the clear night sky, casting a sliver of light on the water below. It’s a scene out of a movie—one with a prince on a quest to rescue a princess held captive by an evil queen.

  There are no princes or princesses here, though. No evil queens, either.

  No, our problems are all of our own making.

  My making, more than anything.

  I’m the one who insisted on our no contact rule after the end of the trip.

  And I’m the one who broke the rule first.

  But when she walked away, boarding the plane in New York, I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing her again. Never hearing her laugh. Never touching her.

  I tried. Dammit, I did. I made the long trek home, taking my sweet time, because there was no real need to rush. Stopping in hotels and getting drunk, looking her up on every social media outlet I could think of, thankful that she had her privacy settings pretty loose. At first I thought I should talk to her about that. But then I remembered I wasn’t supposed to talk to her again.

  Drinking crappy beer, I stared at the pictures that she’d posted and pictures her friends had tagged her in. Soaking her in. Selfies in the practice room. Pics of her and Gabby in their dorm room their freshman year. All of it.

  Then I’d flip through the handful of pictures I’d managed to take of her while we played tourist in New York.

  Not enough.

  None of it was enough.

  Even after I got home, even after I threw myself into working for The Professor and occasionally forced myself to take someone out for a drink or dinner just to make a token effort to move on, I’d still end up in my bed at night with a drink on my bedside table and—more often than not—my hand on my dick as I looked through all the pictures of her I could get my hands on.

  As she started her spring semester, new pictures started appearing. Pictures of her with other guys that made my blood boil, even though she’d told me she’d sworn off men. Sworn off relationships.

  But she’d fucked me from Colorado to New York after all, so maybe she’d given up on her intention to avoid guys after that.

  It was that thought drilling into my brain day after day that finally pushed me to reach out. I sent her a lame-ass message on Facebook—Hey. Hope your semester’s going well—then tossed my phone on the bed next to me and left it there while I took a shower. We weren’t friends, either online or in real life. So I had no real expectation that she’d get back to me.

  It took her a while, almost twenty-four hours, but she did eventually respond to my message. And she gave me her phone number. We talked on the phone that night.

  But it wasn’t the same. That something special between us, that easiness that we’d managed almost from the very start, the banter, all of that was missing.

  Our conversation was stilted and awful.

  But she’d invited me to her recital. I’d taken it as a lifeline and promised I’d come.

  And then I’d fucked that up.

  Maybe I should just give up. She’s not the same girl I met at my brother’s wedding. She’s quiet now. Guarded.

  I can’t help but feel that I’ve made her this way. I’m responsible for taking her bright, sparkly personality and dimming it down to this pale imitation. Like water being run through coffee grounds a second time. Is she like this with everyone, or just me?

  Either way, it sucks.

  Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “This is a nice drive.”

  “Yeah.” She’s quiet, flicking off the brights as the headlights from another car glow around a curve, then flicking them on again after they pass. “I like to come down here when I need to get away. Or need to think. It’s pretty, and it’s usually quiet at night.”

  “Makes sense.”

  After a few more curves, following the edge of the lake, past a boat launch with a few cars parked on the side of the road, we end up in a large parking lot. She pulls into a spot facing the lake and kills the engine, turning off the lights. After a moment, we’re cloaked in darkness, only the faint glow of the stars and the sliver of moonlight illuminating the water.

  “Wow.”

  She looks at me, her eyes shadows and her lips a dark line that curves into a faint smile. “I know, right? There are too many lights in Spokane. There are places to get away, sure, probably closer, but …” She sighs. “I dunno. Something about this place always feels right to me. It reminds me a little bit of home, with the water and the sky like this.”

  I lean forward to look out the windshield and get a better view of the stars dotting the inky blackness. “I get it. This is gorgeous. I can see why it’s a good thinking spot.” Sitting back, I look at her profile. “Why’d you bring me here?”

  She wraps her arms around herself and shakes her head slowly, still looking up out the windshield. “Let’s get out. You can see better out there. And it was a decent day today, so it shouldn’t be too cold just yet.”

  Without waiting for a response from me, she pops her door open and climbs out. I sit, watching her, but her door slamming closed spurs me into action. She wants to stand and look at the stars with me? Alright. Stargazing it is.

  She’s wrong, though. It might not be cold enough to freeze my balls off, but the breeze off the lake cuts through my shirt. It’s chilly. I cross my arms tightly, trying to preserve as much warmth as I can.

  She chuckles, drawing my attention to her. “Wuss.”

  “Did you just call me a wuss?” I don’t have to try very hard to lace my voice with shock and dismay. I wasn’t expecting that. But at the same time, it’s Lauren, so I shouldn’t be too surprised.

  “Yeah. You’re over there shivering. It’s like fifty out. And you have sleeves. Don’t be such a baby.”

  I scoff. “I think you know exactly how much of a man I am.”

  “Oh, please.” If eye rolling could be embodied in a tone of voice, it’s the one she’s using right now. “Now you’re bringing your dick into this?” She steps closer, lowering her voice a little. “You can have the biggest dick in the world and still be a giant man-baby. The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  I can’t help it. I just start laughing. This is the Lauren I’ve missed. “Glad to see you’re back to your usual self.”

  Aaaand, that was the wrong thing to say.

  She takes a step back, visibly closing down even in the dark. “Yeah, well, you bring out the worst in me all around.”

  All I can do is grunt in response, because I can’t say what I want to say. You bring out the best in me all around. Not out loud. Not right now. Not until I can prove to her that it’s true.

  Letting her keep her distance, I tip my head back, taking in the wide expanse of the sky, from the mountain across the lake to the hill behind us. The Milky Way spread across space like diamonds strewn over black velvet. “Even if I’m a baby, it’s worth being cold for this.”

  She’s quiet, and I force myself to keep my attention upward and not look at her. After a long moment, I’m rewarded with the sound of her footsteps crunching in the gravel on the asphalt, then her voice is closer when she speaks again. “It totally is.” Her hand touches my arm, featherlight, a tiny touch to claim my attention.
As though my entire body isn’t attuned to her already. “Let’s sit on the hood and lie back. You’ll get a crick in your neck like that. And the residual heat from the engine will warm you up.”

  I risk a look at her, surprised that she’s now concerned for my wellbeing. But it fits. She mocked me mercilessly for falling on my ass in Colorado, but she also made sure I had a coat and boots so it wouldn’t happen again.

  But she’s not looking at me. She’s stepping around the front bumper, carefully placing her foot and boosting herself back onto the hood. “I got my car washed the other day, so it’s not super dirty.” She finally lifts her head in my direction. “But I figure being warm is better than being spotless right now, wouldn’t you say?”

  One corner of my mouth hitches in a smile as I step to the front of the car as well. “Are you trying to say you’re cold too? After you were just busting my balls for shivering in the wind?”

  She lets loose a low, throaty laugh, leaning back on her hands, her hair streaming behind her, the aforementioned wind playing with the strands. “It is a little chilly. And neither of us are really dressed for it.” She pats the hood next to her. “Come on. The warm metal feels nice. I promise not to bust your balls anymore.”

  I give her a doubtful look, but climb up next to her, freezing when the hood clanks and bends under my weight.

  She giggles again. “Don’t worry. If you dent my car, I’m sure you can afford to get it fixed.”

  I snort. “Maybe so. Doesn’t mean I want to dent your car, though.”

  The hood creaks again as I settle next to her, and I hold as still as possible. She’s right, though. The warmth of the engine seeping into my jeans feels nice, even if it’s not the same as actually having a jacket. Tipping my head back, I do my best to trace the constellations that I can recognize with my eyes, but I’m hyperaware of Lauren next to me. Her shoulder brushing my bicep. Her hand millimeters from mine. Her leg an inch away.

  She lets out a sigh and shakes her head. “This is just weird.”

  “What’s weird?”

  She sighs again, sitting up straighter and flapping one of her hands between us. “This. Us. You’re so stiff, like you’re afraid to move or speak or just exist in the same space as me. And it makes me feel awkward and stiff and weird and …” She lets the sentence hang, sucking in a breath and then slumping as she lets it out.

  I sit up next to her, wanting to touch her, but not sure if I should. Which I guess is part of the problem.

  “What do you want me to do?” I ask, bringing my arms forward to better control the urge to wrap them around her, and I brush against her arms in the process. It can’t be helped.

  She turns her face to me, and I wish I could actually see her. Make out more of her expression than faint shadows and shapes. She pulls a strand of hair away from her mouth and shakes her head again. “I don’t know. I just …” She looks away. “I miss the way things were between us before. I feel like we’re both walking on eggshells around each other, and I hate it.”

  The sudden vehemence in her voice catches me by surprise. “Me too.”

  Her head jerks in my direction, and she straightens as she sucks in a breath. “What should we do about it?”

  Chapter Six

  Lauren

  Brendan studies me in the dark. And unless he has amazing night vision, I’m not sure he can see anything. As it is, he’s barely more than an outline against the night sky. But this was my brilliant idea, to come out here and talk in the dark. I thought it might make things easier. It isn’t working. If anything, it’s worse. He’s acting like I’m radioactive with the way he’s avoiding even the most casual brush of any part of him against any part of me.

  I don’t know exactly what I was hoping for when I decided to come out here, but it definitely wasn’t this. Okay, I was hoping he’d touch me. Wrap himself around me like he did at that rest stop when the wind was blowing. Maybe recapture some of the easy affection we had at the least. Instead he flinches every time my shoulder brushes his arm.

  Finally, I just give up. This is dumb. All of it. Clearly I’m on my own in hoping to recapture whatever we had.

  It’s probably not possible anyway. I’m probably romanticizing it and blowing it all out of proportion. Maybe it wasn’t as great as I remember.

  But I know that’s not true.

  Even so, if he can’t even bring himself to touch me, this is hopeless.

  “Forget it.” I start scooting to the edge of the hood, ready to climb off and drive us home. “This was a dumb idea. Let’s just go.”

  Before I can climb off the car, Brendan’s hand shoots out and grabs my forearm. “Wait.”

  I freeze, looking at his fingers finally touching me without acting like I’m diseased, then up at his face.

  He clears his throat. “This wasn’t a dumb idea. Stay.”

  “Okay,” I agree after staring at him, making sure he’s serious. Carefully, I scoot back up onto the hood. His arm curls around my back, and this time my sigh is one of relief instead of frustration.

  “Let’s lie back. I thought the point of climbing on the car was so we could do that anyway, right? Not get cricks in our necks?”

  A small smile comes to my face at the affection in his voice. “Right.”

  We lie back, and he shifts his arm higher, scooting me so that my head is pillowed on his shoulder, his torso pressed against me, our shared body heat warming me.

  He bends his other arm, laying his head on his hand, looking up at the dazzling night sky. “It’s been forever since I’ve done anything like this.”

  “Me too.”

  Neither of us speak for a long time. Or at least it feels like a long time. But it’s okay, now, because we don’t need to talk. Or we do, but that can wait.

  I don’t know what I want from him, exactly, but I can be honest with myself enough to admit that I want something. The last several months of sporadic contact isn’t enough. I want something real.

  But that means something long distance, because I still have another year of school. And then …?

  I don’t know what will happen after graduation. Grad school, probably, but I have to decide where to apply, then audition and get accepted.

  The thought of applying to a school in California has popped up more than once. Enough times that I’ve found a couple of likely programs, but I haven’t been brave enough to contact any of the violin professors.

  Because it seems stupid, crazy, like stalker-crazy, deciding to go to school somewhere because it puts me closer to a guy I wish I could have a relationship with.

  But he’s here. He showed up—at his brother’s prompting, sure, but who can blame him for needing a little extra push after what happened the last time he showed up at my house unannounced? And he hasn’t let me out of his sight since I opened the door for him, following me into the kitchen, insisting on coming to the store with me, suggesting we leave …

  “I can almost hear you thinking.”

  His voice vibrates under my ear, and I snuggle closer. It’s been so long since we spent time just wrapped around each other like this. I don’t want it to end. “Oh yeah? What am I thinking?”

  He hums, and I grin, waiting to hear what he comes up with.

  “You’re thinking … about how I’m so much more awesome than my brothers.”

  I snort laugh, which causes him to shake underneath me, laughing as well. “Naturally,” I agree.

  “No surprise there.”

  “What else am I thinking?” I’m still grinning, curious what he’ll say next.

  His pec flexes under my hand. “You’re thinking how much more built I am than the last time you saw me.”

  I lift my head, giving the muscle an experimental squeeze. “Hmm. Nope. Sorry.” It’s even better because I’m not lying. I hadn’t noticed that, though him mentioning it does bring it to my attention.

  He gives a melodramatic gasp. “I’ve been pushing hard in the gym and making sure I only eat my favor
ite ice cream once a week, and this is the appreciation I get?”

  I just laugh. “I’m sure you can find plenty of people to appreciate your hard work. You don’t need any kind of ego boost from me.”

  “Ha. Even if I wanted that, I know I’m coming to the wrong place. Your favorite pastime is cutting a guy down to size. Not inflating his ego.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to say, I can think of other things I was good at inflating. Once upon a time, I would have said it too. But that’s not where we are anymore.

  “What else are you thinking?”

  I hide my smile against his chest, even though he can’t see it anyway. “You tell me.”

  He chuckles again, deep in his chest, and he adjusts a little, getting more comfortable. “Fine.” His chest raises as he sucks in a deep breath, and the playfulness seems to seep out of him, and I’m suddenly aware that this little game we’re playing is potentially dangerous. He holds the air in his lungs for a few beats before slowly letting it out. When he speaks again, his voice is low and gravelly. “You’re thinking about the last time we lay together like this. Only that time we weren’t freezing our nuts off, we were in a bed, and we were naked.”

  My breath freezes in my lungs, and it takes me too long to recover. Mayday! Mayday! Deflect! Deflect!

  I try to play it off, forcing a laugh. “Last time I checked, I don’t have nuts.”

  His head turns toward me, and I can’t see the look on his face, but I imagine it’s annoyed. Or frustrated. Or serious, in any case. Brendan’s never been one to broadcast much through his facial expressions. But I have no doubt my bad attempt at a joke wasn’t the response he was hoping for.

  He lets out a sigh and looks back up at the sky. “I’m getting cold,” he says quietly. “We should head back.”

  This time it’s my turn to put out a staying hand, stopping him from sitting up by reaching across his abs—which weren’t exactly squishy before, but are even firmer now. “If you’re cold, we can go. That’s fine. But …”