Chapter 6 (Landon)
My fingers glide over the ivory keys and my eyes fall shut, getting lost in the waves of sound that permeate my small makeshift home studio.
About an hour ago I recorded the guitar and drums section, but the piano is what will make it really shine; and I can't wait to merge all of it together.
I haven't written lyrics to the piece I'm working on yet, but I'm thinking it might not even need any after all.
It's powerful all on its own. Just like her.
The hand on the far left of the piano hits those deep keys I love so much, giving the song a much darker tone, which is a beautiful contrast to the lighter keys my right hand is delicately strumming over.
It reminds me of Breslin in so many ways, because just like her; the song starts off light—and then when you least expect it, there's a depth that sneaks up on you. One you can't quite grasp because it's just out of your reach.
Even still, the complex rhythm is addicting and one you can't ignore.
The only thing I'm stuck on right now is the melody, because neither my fingers nor my mind can seem to settle on a single tone—therefore the rhythm keeps changing, making the piece particularly complicated for me. Without the right melody to carry the song and make it whole, it won't ever actually be a song.
My left hand starts to shake, signaling low blood sugar. I know I should check my level and eat something, but I wave it off because I'm so lost in the music.
That is until I feel her presence enter the room and I open my eyes and look into her green ones. I'm about to stop but she gestures for me to keep going, so I do.
I play Breslin's rhythm without the melody because it's beautiful and strong even without one.
I play my soul out for her and hope with every beat of my heart that she finally lets me inside hers.
I'm falling for this girl standing in front of me. The rational part of my brain knows I shouldn't—not only is she too guarded, it's clear she doesn't want to make this a serious thing.
I'm not the kind of man to hold someone when they want to go. But Breslin's different. I know she cares about me. I know she has feelings for me.
She's just too scared to take the leap because she doesn't think I'll catch her when she does.
So, I'll wait and bide my time. I'll wait for that heart of hers to open up to me.
Because it will be worth it when it happens.
Breslin Rae has her hooks sunk so deep into me I can't see straight when she's around...and I hope she never pulls them out.
I peel my eyes from hers and focus on the music again, my fingers striking all the notes and chords. All the things I'm unable to say to her with words.
When I'm finished playing, she sits and gestures for me to play something else. I know my girl loves the guitar and has a fondness for the stripped and acoustic versions of songs, so I stand up and grab it.
I want to ask her what happened tonight because she's here earlier than she said she would be, but I love that half amazed, half aroused expression on her face and the way she can't seem to take her eyes off me.
I've played in front of large audiences before, I even have a semi-steady gig once a month at a small venue...but it's nothing compared to the energy in the room between us now.
Breslin might want the stable job as an architect, but she'll never be happy unless they're her own designs. The girl is a creator and a visionary if there ever was one, and when I watch her in her element; it's spellbinding.
Therefore, she understands my creative side like no one else ever has, and instead of trying to dim it like my family always does, she pulls it out of me.
I make the split-second decision to reach over and press a few keys on my laptop, letting the piano version I recorded for her a few weeks ago play in the background so she can have the full effect.
She smiles from ear to ear when I start strumming the guitar and tapping my foot. Her smile grows even wider when I open my mouth and start to sing for her, something I've always been self-conscious about, no matter how many times I've heard how great my voice might be.
I was born with only partial hearing in my right ear so I constantly second guess myself. The only time I don't is when I'm performing straight from the heart.
And right now, that's exactly where this performance is coming from.
She's damn near glowing as I continue singing her favorite song— Colorblind by the Counting Crows. The irony, given she's an artist and all isn't lost on me.
The song is completely stripped, raw, and exposed. The music and lyrics are both simple and profound at the same time...reminding me of Breslin.
When the song ends she has tears in her eyes, and that's when I make a risky decision.
I switch gears completely, and start to perform a song from a band she says she hates.
I keep telling her to give them a chance, and that she just hasn't found the right song to begin her love affair with my favorite band yet.
I'm hoping this song will be the one. Besides, I can't think of a single person who doesn't like the song Glycerine by Bush.
It isn't until she closes her eyes in turmoil and looks like she's fighting back tears—and not the good kind this time—that I realize I've made a horrible mistake.
I guess there's a reason she doesn't like the band after all.
Way to go Landon.
I don't know the asshole responsible for Breslin's pain, and I'm not quite sure what he did to her exactly, but if I ever came face to face with the fucker I swear I'll make him pay for hurting her so much.
I drop the guitar and walk over to her. “I'm sorry. I knew you didn't like the band. I shouldn't have—”
“I actually love the band.” She laughs but the tears only fall faster down her cheeks. “It's just...I had my first kiss on my 16th birthday while this song was playing.” Her brows draw together and she shakes her head as if shaking off the memory. “Outside in the pouring rain.”
“That sounds like a pretty epic first kiss,” I say, completely confused now, but not wanting to push her. “Mine was with some chick I never met before during a game of spin the bottle in 8th grade.” I lift a shoulder in a shrug. “I never even knew her name and to this day all I remember about her was that her breath smelled like tuna.”
Breslin makes a face before she bursts into laughter. “How do you always do that?”
“Do what?”
“Find a way to make me smile through all the pain?” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You make everything better, Landon. Every single thing.”
She looks at me and the air between us shifts. I suck in a breath, because the only thing better than Breslin looking at me like I hung the moon while I'm performing for her? Is the way she's looking at me now.
Like she has some kind of preeminent appetite that only I can satisfy.
She leans forward, her lips ghosting over mine and I don't waste the opportunity to suck that plump bottom lip of hers before I claim her with my mouth entirely.
She reaches for the hem of my t-shirt and yanks it over my head before going for my belt buckle.
Surprise crosses over her features briefly when I lift her up and place her on the piano.
I slowly undo the buttons on her shirt, savoring every inch of smooth, creamy skin that I uncover.
My cock twitches when I pause and laser in on those pink nipples puckering through the turquoise lace of her bra.
I make quick work of removing her jeans and undoing my own.
“Landon, your hands are shaking. When was the last time you ate?”
I give her a smug smile and trail my fingers along the sides of her panties. “Funny you should mention that, because I'm about to have one hell of a meal right now.”
I shred the flimsy fabric down the middle and she gasps when I dive head first between her legs.
“Landon,” she screams, slapping at my back. “You need to eat.”
My response is to suck on her clit right before I roll my tongue and start fucking her with my mouth.
Her hips buck and she pounds the surface of the piano with her palms. A moment later, some part rock, part orchestral song fills the room and I laugh to myself.
Breslin's always told me she wanted to be able to experience music like I do. She like so many others think you listen to music, but that couldn't be further from the truth...because you feel it.
The timbre of the guitar is dark and sonorous and I deepen the strokes of my tongue to reflect that. Breslin's reaction is damn near instantaneous, she pulls my hair and grinds her pelvis into my face.
A second later the music switches up and I focus on the violin, which is light and mellow compared to the guitar. Breslin mewls and whimpers, begging me for more, but I don't give it to her...not until I choose my next instrument to focus on.
The drums.
I flick her clit, keeping in perfect time to the beats. She raises her hips and meets every stroke of my tongue, losing herself just like I want her to.
“More drums, Landon. Fuck, I need more drums—” She cuts herself off with a long moan when I decide to focus on the lyrics and start humming along with the singer.
She gyrates those hips of hers into my face again and I finally focus on my favorite instrument...the piano.
In my world the piano brings the perfect balance to any song, something Breslin realizes when I slip two fingers inside her and latch onto her clit.
She pulses and vibrates around my tongue, gripping my hair so tightly my scalp stings. “I need you to fuck me, Landon. Right now.”
“We're not up to the crescendo yet,” I say between long, languid, teasing licks and her head rolls back.
“This song is over twenty minutes,” she whines, before the drums pick up again and I proceed to fuck her harder with my fingers.
Her eyes lock with mine as she clenches around them, playing her own little game now. One that's working because the music seems to fade into the background and becomes louder all at the same time.
“God, I need to come so bad,” she moans. “Please make me come with that thick cock of yours deep inside me.”
I groan and have to give my cock a jerk because there's nothing hotter than hearing my innocent angel with filthy wings talk dirty to me.
Fuck the crescendo.
Silently thanking the fact that she's on birth control because my body can't wait another second, I hitch one of her legs around my waist and enter her a moment later.
I hear all the instruments thrum together and I know she's close. I keep my thrusts in time to the music, every single sound now becoming one big whirl as the world's most perfect symphony plays inside my head because Breslin's the conductor.
My movements become rougher, just the way I know she likes it and her eyes roll back. “I'm so close,” she rasps. “So fucking close.”
I know she is, and if she grips my cock any tighter I'm gonna get off before she does.
I reach between us and start strumming her clit. There's no way I'm going to last with her naked and writhing underneath me the way she is now. My only choice is to speed things along.
I pull her nipple into my mouth and suck, rubbing her clit between my two fingers as I continue driving into her.
Her chest rises and falls and she screams my name right before she spasms and a rush of wetness surrounds my cock.
Two pumps later I'm collapsing on top of her and the room is spinning.
Something's not quite right and my body feels off, despite just having been on cloud nine.
My head is fuzzy, and I know it's my blood sugar dropping. The problem is, I'm so out of it, I can't bring myself to move.
“Bre.” Her name on my lips is a whisper. I hate being so weak around her but I'm a moment away from passing out.
She moves out from underneath me and what feels like a second later something sweet is hitting my lips.
I guzzle the container of orange juice, suddenly thankful for the care packages my mother seems to send me every week.
Breslin doesn't say a word, she just holds the juice and brushes my hair out of my eyes, something I'm grateful for; because there's nothing worse than being nagged when you feel like absolute shit.
I've struggled with diabetes since I was 12, and I know I should do a better job with my health. It's just not so easy when you're 21, a musician, and a double major in college.
I don't tell many people about my illness for two reasons. One—I don't need or want their sympathy. And two—I don't need or want their unsolicited advice. Everyone seems to know someone who has diabetes and with that comes a slew of information that I either already know or don't care to know.
Both my illness and my hearing are impairments, but I refuse to focus on those aspects of my life.
I want to live in the here and now.
And right now? I have a gorgeous girl staring down at me with so much adoration in her eyes, I find myself feeling dizzy for a whole different reason.
“Landon,” she whispers, running her hand along my jaw. She doesn't say it, because she doesn't have to.
I know I fucked up. I know I probably scared her.
I know it wasn't the first time I've done that to her.
I sit up. “I'm okay. I'm fine.”
“I feel like it was my fault. I knew you were shaking before and I—”
“You didn't do anything wrong.”
She nuzzles against my chest and I wrap my arms around her. “Are you okay?”
“I'm still a little out of it,” I tell her honestly. “But I'll be fine.” I tip her chin up. “Thanks to you running and getting me juice.”
“Landon, I don't want to sound like a pain and I know you hate talking about this but you can't constantly ignore your body.” She rubs her temples. “I mean what if I wasn't here? What are you going to do when I'm in Europe for the next three weeks?”
Europe...for three weeks? Just how out of it was I?
The questions I have must be written all over my face because she looks down at the ground and mutters, “Shit.” Before she squeezes her eyes shut. “This is not how I planned to tell you.”
I stroke her cheek and she leans into my touch. “Babe, you're going to Europe for three weeks, not jail.” I hop off the piano and throw my jeans back on. “When do you leave?”
“Two days,” she says, failing to hide the gleam in her eyes. “There was a spot that opened up last minute for the Architectural study tour and they called me.”
Her face breaks out into the biggest smile I've ever seen, and I'm honestly thrilled for her. There's no way I would do anything to damper her happiness, even if I am a little sad about our time together being cut short.
Besides, going to Europe for the rest of the summer sounds like an amazing opportunity and she'd be dumb not to take it.
I lift her into my arms and she wraps her legs around me. “I was so afraid you were going to tell me not to go.” I can hear her voice breaking with emotion and my chest stings.
“I would never stunt your dreams, Bre. I would never try to tame you.”
I just want to love you.
I put her down and cradle her face in my hands. I can't think of a better time than right now to tell her how I feel. “Breslin, I'm in love with you.”
It's not the most poetic or profound way to tell a girl how you feel, but hell, it's my first time ever uttering the words to another person.
Her mouth parts in surprise, her body tenses, and her face falls.
In other words, the exact opposite reaction I was hoping for.
She picks her clothes up off the floor and begins getting dressed, almost like she can't get out of here fast enough.
If it wasn't for the tears clogging her eyes, I'd think she didn't care about me at all right now.
The silence between us is deafening and since I know she's not going to break it, it's up to me.
I open my mouth, but just then she whispers, “This was never supposed to be anything serious.”
My hands clench at my sides and a bolt of anger shoots through me. As usual, this is Breslin's standard response whenever I bring up anything long-term.
I glare at her. “Maybe for you it wasn't.”
Another tear rolls down her face, and it only makes me angrier. She wouldn't be all choked up right now if she didn't have feelings for me. I don't understand why it's so hard for her to just take the leap. Why it's so hard to trust me.
“I'm not him,” I grind out.
She sits down and puts her head in her hands. “I never said you were. I know you're not him.”
“Then let me in. For months you've been skating around this issue. You keep saying you don't want anything serious, but the way you look at me and the way you act around me says otherwise.”
I kneel in front of her and reach for her hands. “I know I sprung this on you, and I don't expect you to say it back; and I don't want you to if you're not there yet, but I need you to trust me and jump.”
“It's not that easy.”
“Why?”
“Because he cheated on me,” she yells. “I loved him so much and he cheated on me with the enemy.”
I knew what her ex did to her was bad, but this is even worse than I thought. “Shit—”
“He broke my heart into a thousand pieces along with every ounce of trust I gave him. All on the same night I gave him my virginity.”
She laughs bitterly. “I loved him. I loved him so damn much. It was a hit I never saw coming, I was completely blindsided that night.”
She wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “I'm trying to get to the same place you are, Landon. Because you're right, I do have feelings for you. Real feelings. And I'm trying so hard to demolish the space in my heart that he still takes up in order to let you claim it all, because I want you to. But I'm just not ready yet.”
She stands up. “I just...I need—”
“Time?” I offer, standing next to her now.
She nods. “Just a little more.” Her hand goes to the back of my neck and she looks me right in the eyes. “I'm into you, Landon. I'm so into you.” Her lips skim over mine and I can feel her heart beating erratically. “You give me butterflies.”
I close the short distance between our lips. I pour every single ounce of passion I have for her into a single kiss and her body melts against me.
“I'll wait for you,” I say before I take her mouth again, because I can't help myself.
“Don't.” Her voice is broken and fragile, defeated. “I don't want you to wait for me”
I let out a frustrated sigh. Round and round we go again. “Why?”
“I don't want any obligations or commitments. Not while I'm in Europe.”
“Bre—”
“No.” She backs away. “We'll check in when I get home, see where we both stand then. But you're free to do what you want. It's just the way it has to be.”
“What I want is you.” I take a step forward but she takes another one away from me. My chest tightens with every step she takes because it feels like she's walking out of my life for good.
She pauses right before she walks out the door. “Take care of yourself.”
Her voice cracks on the last word before she slams the door behind her.
And I'm left hating the man who ruined the future we'll never have.