Partner Games
Page 29
A familiar song.
I stood in the doorway, wet from the rain, my hair sticking to my head, and trying to puzzle out the song. It took until he got to the chorus that it finally sunk in. I knew that song.
He wasn’t playing the song they’d intended for us.
He was playing Guns N’ Roses. Specifically, Don’t Cry.
And he was playing it for me.
He remembered that I loved GNR. He remembered that I loved that album. And as the lyrics swam through my head, I realized he was trying to comfort me. Even though we were in a race, even though he couldn’t stop to sit down with me and hash things out, he was letting me know that whatever was bothering me, he had my back.
I burst into tears again.
“That is not the song, I am sorry,” the guitar maker said, frowning at Swift. “Please try again.”
Swift cut off the song with a sheepish look at me. “Right.”
I smiled at him through my tears and then blew him a kiss. Actually, I wanted to fling myself in his arms and cover his face with kisses for the perfect song and the perfect moment, but the game was still on.
I watched as Swift turned to the man and played through a different song, this one quick and efficient and unrecognizable to me. No Guns N’ Roses this time.
When he was done, the guitar maker nodded and presented him with one of the game disks. “Very good. You have completed your task.”
“Thanks, man,” Swift said. The others clapped politely, including me. Swift gave them a cocky grin as he put his guitar back in its place, and then sprinted over to where I stood, still in the doorway like an idiot.
I gave him a watery smile. “You just finished? That’s incredible timing.”
“Not so incredible,” he said, cupping my face and giving me a kiss on the mouth. “I stalled in the hopes that you’d show up. Figured as long as the others were sucking, I still had time.” He leaned in and whispered. “Guess I’m the only kid that was in a garage band.”
A small chuckle escaped me. “Guess so.”
His fingers brushed over my cheeks, wiping away my tears. “You okay? I hate to see you so upset. I don’t know what happened, but I want to fix it.”
“You can’t,” I said softly. “But it’s sweet of you to offer.” I squeezed his hand. “We’ll talk more at the next stop, okay?”
“Play well,” he said. “I don’t want you going home. Bingo has no music sense, so don’t help him, okay?”
I nodded.
He gave me another quick kiss and then zoomed out the door. I moved in and ignored the unhappy look that Drew was shooting in my direction. I hadn’t forgotten about his warning.
But if there was one, Annabelle hadn’t paid attention to it. “Aww,” she drawled. “Y’all are so darn cute! I love it. Me and Jendan met on Endurance Island, you know.” Her fingers strummed the chords and she winced at a sour note. “I think the island was easier than this, though.”
I sat down at the place that Swift had vacated, picking up the electric guitar. It felt a lot heavier than he’d made it look, and I spent a few moments awkwardly trying to adjust the strap on my shoulder.
“You ever play before?” Bingo asked as the instructor left him and came to my side.
“Not a lick,” I admitted. “But I’m going to learn this fast for my twin.”
“Uh huh,” Drew said. “Your twin, or the biker you were just sucking face with?”
“Does it matter?” I said sweetly and studied the page of music on the stand before me like it wasn’t jibberish. “I’m still going to beat your ass.”
I’d had it up to there with bullying men. Georgie had been bullied by men who were supposed to have her best interests. I wasn’t going to let this fuckhead bully me out of the race. Fuck him and his partner.
Annabelle giggled at my strong words and then hit another sour note.
And as I strummed the guitar and the instructor sat down next to me, I decided that if he was going to play hardball and try to get me and Georgie out because we were working with the guys?
We’d just have to get the Green Machine out of the race first.
Chapter Nineteen
“I knew all those guitar lessons when I was a kid would come in handy. And man, I am going to get so much shit from the guys when we get home. Ugh. I just thought about that. Still, it was worth it.” — Swift, Team One Percent, World Races
“That is correct,” the guitar instructor said as I finished the down-pick on my chord. He smiled at me and pulled half of one of the World Race disks out of his bag. “Here is your clue.”
“Thank you,” I said, slinging the guitar off of my neck and returning it to its stand with trembling fingers. It had taken me three tries but I’d gotten it right…which was more than anyone else could say. Behind me, I could still hear Bingo and Drew hitting sour note after sour note. Annabelle stood in the corner with her guitar, waiting to try again. She gave me a happy thumbs up even as Drew scowled at me.
I was ahead of Drew. That was all that mattered. But I paused and realized there was another way I could get ahead of Drew. I went to Annabelle and adjusted her grip on the guitar’s neck. “Move your hand here after the second chorus. You’re getting the chord wrong.”
Recognition dawned on her face and she nodded. “Thanks!”
I winked at her. “Just beat Drew,” I whispered, and snatched the clue, then raced out of the shop.
The clue itself was nothing but cut-off letters. The other half of the disk would fit with mine and then it would be readable, but until then, I had nothing. So I raced back to our car, tailed by our camera man, and hoping Georgie had finished her task quickly.
When I saw the car, my twin was waiting, dressed like the Swiss Miss girl. I giggled at the sight of her, her chin-length bob caught in the world’s saddest short braids. “I know, I know,” she said, and then held her short skirt out and did a curtsy. “I look ridiculous. But I’m done! How did your task go?”
“It took a bit but we’re still ahead of the others,” I told her, holding out my clue. She matched hers to mine and I held the flashlight over it as we peered down at the disk.
HEAD TO VERZASCA DAM AND GET A TICKET.
“Sounds easy enough,” Georgie said. “I guess we’re driving there, too?” She pulled the keys from her tiny embroidered bodice. “You got the map?”
I pulled it out and with the flashlight, we scoped out the map of Switzerland until we found the dam in the mountains near the border to Italy. “Long drive,” I told her. “Let’s get started. Back to Bern we go!”
~~ * * * ~~
We stopped for gas and coffee and directions at some point, and by the time we made it to the dam, it was super late and Georgie and I were both yawning and dragging ass.
We pulled into the parking lot and Swift and Plate were both leaning against their car, arms crossed. Another car was in the parking lot with them, but I didn’t see the passengers.
Swift sat upright as we pulled into the parking lot and I waved happily at him. The moment we got out of the car, he was standing there waiting for me, and I flung myself into his arms. Every mini-reunion felt massive, and I clung to him, so glad to see him again.
I stood in the doorway, wet from the rain, my hair sticking to my head, and trying to puzzle out the song. It took until he got to the chorus that it finally sunk in. I knew that song.
He wasn’t playing the song they’d intended for us.
He was playing Guns N’ Roses. Specifically, Don’t Cry.
And he was playing it for me.
He remembered that I loved GNR. He remembered that I loved that album. And as the lyrics swam through my head, I realized he was trying to comfort me. Even though we were in a race, even though he couldn’t stop to sit down with me and hash things out, he was letting me know that whatever was bothering me, he had my back.
I burst into tears again.
“That is not the song, I am sorry,” the guitar maker said, frowning at Swift. “Please try again.”
Swift cut off the song with a sheepish look at me. “Right.”
I smiled at him through my tears and then blew him a kiss. Actually, I wanted to fling myself in his arms and cover his face with kisses for the perfect song and the perfect moment, but the game was still on.
I watched as Swift turned to the man and played through a different song, this one quick and efficient and unrecognizable to me. No Guns N’ Roses this time.
When he was done, the guitar maker nodded and presented him with one of the game disks. “Very good. You have completed your task.”
“Thanks, man,” Swift said. The others clapped politely, including me. Swift gave them a cocky grin as he put his guitar back in its place, and then sprinted over to where I stood, still in the doorway like an idiot.
I gave him a watery smile. “You just finished? That’s incredible timing.”
“Not so incredible,” he said, cupping my face and giving me a kiss on the mouth. “I stalled in the hopes that you’d show up. Figured as long as the others were sucking, I still had time.” He leaned in and whispered. “Guess I’m the only kid that was in a garage band.”
A small chuckle escaped me. “Guess so.”
His fingers brushed over my cheeks, wiping away my tears. “You okay? I hate to see you so upset. I don’t know what happened, but I want to fix it.”
“You can’t,” I said softly. “But it’s sweet of you to offer.” I squeezed his hand. “We’ll talk more at the next stop, okay?”
“Play well,” he said. “I don’t want you going home. Bingo has no music sense, so don’t help him, okay?”
I nodded.
He gave me another quick kiss and then zoomed out the door. I moved in and ignored the unhappy look that Drew was shooting in my direction. I hadn’t forgotten about his warning.
But if there was one, Annabelle hadn’t paid attention to it. “Aww,” she drawled. “Y’all are so darn cute! I love it. Me and Jendan met on Endurance Island, you know.” Her fingers strummed the chords and she winced at a sour note. “I think the island was easier than this, though.”
I sat down at the place that Swift had vacated, picking up the electric guitar. It felt a lot heavier than he’d made it look, and I spent a few moments awkwardly trying to adjust the strap on my shoulder.
“You ever play before?” Bingo asked as the instructor left him and came to my side.
“Not a lick,” I admitted. “But I’m going to learn this fast for my twin.”
“Uh huh,” Drew said. “Your twin, or the biker you were just sucking face with?”
“Does it matter?” I said sweetly and studied the page of music on the stand before me like it wasn’t jibberish. “I’m still going to beat your ass.”
I’d had it up to there with bullying men. Georgie had been bullied by men who were supposed to have her best interests. I wasn’t going to let this fuckhead bully me out of the race. Fuck him and his partner.
Annabelle giggled at my strong words and then hit another sour note.
And as I strummed the guitar and the instructor sat down next to me, I decided that if he was going to play hardball and try to get me and Georgie out because we were working with the guys?
We’d just have to get the Green Machine out of the race first.
Chapter Nineteen
“I knew all those guitar lessons when I was a kid would come in handy. And man, I am going to get so much shit from the guys when we get home. Ugh. I just thought about that. Still, it was worth it.” — Swift, Team One Percent, World Races
“That is correct,” the guitar instructor said as I finished the down-pick on my chord. He smiled at me and pulled half of one of the World Race disks out of his bag. “Here is your clue.”
“Thank you,” I said, slinging the guitar off of my neck and returning it to its stand with trembling fingers. It had taken me three tries but I’d gotten it right…which was more than anyone else could say. Behind me, I could still hear Bingo and Drew hitting sour note after sour note. Annabelle stood in the corner with her guitar, waiting to try again. She gave me a happy thumbs up even as Drew scowled at me.
I was ahead of Drew. That was all that mattered. But I paused and realized there was another way I could get ahead of Drew. I went to Annabelle and adjusted her grip on the guitar’s neck. “Move your hand here after the second chorus. You’re getting the chord wrong.”
Recognition dawned on her face and she nodded. “Thanks!”
I winked at her. “Just beat Drew,” I whispered, and snatched the clue, then raced out of the shop.
The clue itself was nothing but cut-off letters. The other half of the disk would fit with mine and then it would be readable, but until then, I had nothing. So I raced back to our car, tailed by our camera man, and hoping Georgie had finished her task quickly.
When I saw the car, my twin was waiting, dressed like the Swiss Miss girl. I giggled at the sight of her, her chin-length bob caught in the world’s saddest short braids. “I know, I know,” she said, and then held her short skirt out and did a curtsy. “I look ridiculous. But I’m done! How did your task go?”
“It took a bit but we’re still ahead of the others,” I told her, holding out my clue. She matched hers to mine and I held the flashlight over it as we peered down at the disk.
HEAD TO VERZASCA DAM AND GET A TICKET.
“Sounds easy enough,” Georgie said. “I guess we’re driving there, too?” She pulled the keys from her tiny embroidered bodice. “You got the map?”
I pulled it out and with the flashlight, we scoped out the map of Switzerland until we found the dam in the mountains near the border to Italy. “Long drive,” I told her. “Let’s get started. Back to Bern we go!”
~~ * * * ~~
We stopped for gas and coffee and directions at some point, and by the time we made it to the dam, it was super late and Georgie and I were both yawning and dragging ass.
We pulled into the parking lot and Swift and Plate were both leaning against their car, arms crossed. Another car was in the parking lot with them, but I didn’t see the passengers.
Swift sat upright as we pulled into the parking lot and I waved happily at him. The moment we got out of the car, he was standing there waiting for me, and I flung myself into his arms. Every mini-reunion felt massive, and I clung to him, so glad to see him again.
