Tie Me
Page 10
“Why didn’t Owen like guitar?”
“I’m not sure he was being completely truthful. I think he claimed that he didn’t like the guitar so he wouldn’t steal my thunder. He’s actually a good guitarist, but he has this way of putting everyone before himself. Especially me.”
“So he didn’t want to beat you at your own game.”
“Something like that.”
“How many are in your band?”
“Five. Jacob is the lead singer, and Adam plays lead guitar. They’ve been friends since they were young. They’re a couple years older than Owen and me. They’d started up a band with a drummer named Quint and were looking for a bassist to make up the fourth member of the group, which was called Desperation Normal. When Owen answered their ad on a bulletin board at a bar in Austin and agreed to join as their bassist, they had no intention of including me; they weren’t looking for a second guitarist. But Owen has a way of getting what he wants, and he refused to be a part of anything that didn’t include me, so they let me play along. Turns out two guitarists can be better than one. I couldn’t outplay Adam Taylor as a soloist, so I switched to rhythm guitar and let him have the limelight.”
“Are you satisfied playing rhythm guitar?”
“Yeah. I guess. I’m satisfied being a part of Sole Regret.” He never really thought much about why Adam played lead and he continued playing rhythm. It just worked best that way. “And then Quint met a girl, got married, and left the band. And Jacob recruited our current drummer, Gabe. Well, more like kidnapped him.” Kellen chuckled at those early weeks with Gabe and his constant whining about not having enough time to study for his quantum physics midterm. Perhaps the world had missed out on a fantastic engineer when Gabriel Banner had eventually dropped out of school after struggling to do everything for a semester—school, work, the band, and his girlfriend at the time. Missed out on an engineer, but gained one of the most skilled drummers to ever pound the skins. “We changed our name to Sole Regret a couple of weeks after the band was fully formed.”
“Why do you regret your souls?” she asked.
“Huh?” He looked up from his plate, which had somehow become empty while he’d been running off at the mouth.
“Your band’s name is Soul Regret. Why do you regret your soul?”
“Sole Regret. Sole meaning one or single.”
“Oh, one regret.” Dawn speared the final bite of her French toast. “You only have one?”
“Well, at the time. I was young.” He smiled sadly. He had dozens of regrets now, all centering around the things he should have done with Sara. He even regretted that he’d respected her too much to grope her early in their relationship. Maybe if he’d given in to those urges, he might have found the lump in her breast in time. Maybe her treatments would have been more effective. Maybe they could have saved her. Was it strange to regret not being after only one thing with the love of your life? Maybe, but he couldn’t help it.
“Kellen?” Dawn said after she’d swallowed her final bite.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you want to go home?”
He hesitated. How had she managed to pick up on that? “What do you mean?”
“Earlier when you said you would leave me alone and go home, you didn’t sound like you wanted to go.”
He shrugged. “There’s nothing there for me anymore.”
“But there’s something for you here?”
He dabbed his finger into a puddle of syrup and brought it to his tongue. “Yeah,” he said. “There’s you.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“And your song,” he added, before she got the wrong idea. “Are you going to play for me now? You’ve already spoiled my hungry belly with your fantastic French toast; why not treat my ears to something just as sweet?”
He winked at her and after a moment, she nodded.
“I think I’m ready,” she said. “Just don’t expect a miracle.”
“I won’t.” Kellen had given up on miracles five years ago.
Chapter Four
Dawn placed her hands on the keys and closed her eyes. The first notes of the piece came easily, and her fingers found them in natural succession. Music poured from every particle of her being as she gave herself over to the melody.
As the first crescendo built, her muscles began to tense tighter and tighter until she reached the dam beyond which she could not create. She froze. Her hands stilled. Her eyelids clenched tight. Anxiety churned in the pit of her stomach.
The piano began to play of its own accord. The notes that sounded weren’t the correct ones—Dawn instinctively knew when the notes were right—but it wasn’t silence. Thank God, it wasn’t silence. Her eyes popped open, and she watched the long-fingered masculine hands move across the black and ivory keys. They went still suddenly, and she looked up at Kellen, wondering why he’d stopped.
“Well, that sounded better in my head than in reality,” he said with a wince. “Did I offend you by messing with your song?”
She supposed gawking at him like an idiot might make him think that she was offended, but she wasn’t. Surprised, yes. Grateful the sea had seen fit to wash him into her life, yes. Offended? Never.
“That wasn’t quite right,” she said.
“It was horrendous,” he said. “I follow your masterpiece with that load of crap? You must think I’m a talentless hack.”
She shook her head and touched the back of his hand with her fingertips. Sparks danced along her nerve endings, and her belly fluttered with nerves or excitement or just plain silliness. When he drew his hand away and rested it on his thigh beneath the keyboard, she could have cried.
It sucked to be attracted to a man who held no reciprocating interest.
“Play it again,” he said. “I won’t interrupt this time, I promise.”
“You didn’t interrupt. I always freeze at that exact spot. I’m afraid I’ll never get past it.”
“So instead of stopping, just play something—any crap that comes out—until the right notes finally find you.”
She laughed. “I don’t know how to play crap.”
“Lucky you,” he said, his white smile flashing in his strong, handsome face. She wanted to prop her chin up on her hand and stare at him dreamily. She needed to get a grip.
“Ninety percent of my work is crap,” he continued. “Another nine percent is mediocre, and then there are those rare gems that are actually useable.”
“I’m not sure he was being completely truthful. I think he claimed that he didn’t like the guitar so he wouldn’t steal my thunder. He’s actually a good guitarist, but he has this way of putting everyone before himself. Especially me.”
“So he didn’t want to beat you at your own game.”
“Something like that.”
“How many are in your band?”
“Five. Jacob is the lead singer, and Adam plays lead guitar. They’ve been friends since they were young. They’re a couple years older than Owen and me. They’d started up a band with a drummer named Quint and were looking for a bassist to make up the fourth member of the group, which was called Desperation Normal. When Owen answered their ad on a bulletin board at a bar in Austin and agreed to join as their bassist, they had no intention of including me; they weren’t looking for a second guitarist. But Owen has a way of getting what he wants, and he refused to be a part of anything that didn’t include me, so they let me play along. Turns out two guitarists can be better than one. I couldn’t outplay Adam Taylor as a soloist, so I switched to rhythm guitar and let him have the limelight.”
“Are you satisfied playing rhythm guitar?”
“Yeah. I guess. I’m satisfied being a part of Sole Regret.” He never really thought much about why Adam played lead and he continued playing rhythm. It just worked best that way. “And then Quint met a girl, got married, and left the band. And Jacob recruited our current drummer, Gabe. Well, more like kidnapped him.” Kellen chuckled at those early weeks with Gabe and his constant whining about not having enough time to study for his quantum physics midterm. Perhaps the world had missed out on a fantastic engineer when Gabriel Banner had eventually dropped out of school after struggling to do everything for a semester—school, work, the band, and his girlfriend at the time. Missed out on an engineer, but gained one of the most skilled drummers to ever pound the skins. “We changed our name to Sole Regret a couple of weeks after the band was fully formed.”
“Why do you regret your souls?” she asked.
“Huh?” He looked up from his plate, which had somehow become empty while he’d been running off at the mouth.
“Your band’s name is Soul Regret. Why do you regret your soul?”
“Sole Regret. Sole meaning one or single.”
“Oh, one regret.” Dawn speared the final bite of her French toast. “You only have one?”
“Well, at the time. I was young.” He smiled sadly. He had dozens of regrets now, all centering around the things he should have done with Sara. He even regretted that he’d respected her too much to grope her early in their relationship. Maybe if he’d given in to those urges, he might have found the lump in her breast in time. Maybe her treatments would have been more effective. Maybe they could have saved her. Was it strange to regret not being after only one thing with the love of your life? Maybe, but he couldn’t help it.
“Kellen?” Dawn said after she’d swallowed her final bite.
“Yeah.”
“Why don’t you want to go home?”
He hesitated. How had she managed to pick up on that? “What do you mean?”
“Earlier when you said you would leave me alone and go home, you didn’t sound like you wanted to go.”
He shrugged. “There’s nothing there for me anymore.”
“But there’s something for you here?”
He dabbed his finger into a puddle of syrup and brought it to his tongue. “Yeah,” he said. “There’s you.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“And your song,” he added, before she got the wrong idea. “Are you going to play for me now? You’ve already spoiled my hungry belly with your fantastic French toast; why not treat my ears to something just as sweet?”
He winked at her and after a moment, she nodded.
“I think I’m ready,” she said. “Just don’t expect a miracle.”
“I won’t.” Kellen had given up on miracles five years ago.
Chapter Four
Dawn placed her hands on the keys and closed her eyes. The first notes of the piece came easily, and her fingers found them in natural succession. Music poured from every particle of her being as she gave herself over to the melody.
As the first crescendo built, her muscles began to tense tighter and tighter until she reached the dam beyond which she could not create. She froze. Her hands stilled. Her eyelids clenched tight. Anxiety churned in the pit of her stomach.
The piano began to play of its own accord. The notes that sounded weren’t the correct ones—Dawn instinctively knew when the notes were right—but it wasn’t silence. Thank God, it wasn’t silence. Her eyes popped open, and she watched the long-fingered masculine hands move across the black and ivory keys. They went still suddenly, and she looked up at Kellen, wondering why he’d stopped.
“Well, that sounded better in my head than in reality,” he said with a wince. “Did I offend you by messing with your song?”
She supposed gawking at him like an idiot might make him think that she was offended, but she wasn’t. Surprised, yes. Grateful the sea had seen fit to wash him into her life, yes. Offended? Never.
“That wasn’t quite right,” she said.
“It was horrendous,” he said. “I follow your masterpiece with that load of crap? You must think I’m a talentless hack.”
She shook her head and touched the back of his hand with her fingertips. Sparks danced along her nerve endings, and her belly fluttered with nerves or excitement or just plain silliness. When he drew his hand away and rested it on his thigh beneath the keyboard, she could have cried.
It sucked to be attracted to a man who held no reciprocating interest.
“Play it again,” he said. “I won’t interrupt this time, I promise.”
“You didn’t interrupt. I always freeze at that exact spot. I’m afraid I’ll never get past it.”
“So instead of stopping, just play something—any crap that comes out—until the right notes finally find you.”
She laughed. “I don’t know how to play crap.”
“Lucky you,” he said, his white smile flashing in his strong, handsome face. She wanted to prop her chin up on her hand and stare at him dreamily. She needed to get a grip.
“Ninety percent of my work is crap,” he continued. “Another nine percent is mediocre, and then there are those rare gems that are actually useable.”
