HE WAS HERE.

The guy I’d run into at Joe’s, the one who’d been in my hospital room.

He was here. At the Music Junction, where I was spending my Sunday afternoon picking up a class for beginner pianists, since the usual instructor had gone on maternity leave.

Ollie. I couldn’t shake why his name stuck out to me when we hadn’t officially met in all the times we’d seen each other getting our coffees. Maybe just that it was an unusual name, but it was one I kept thinking about since I’d run into him at Joe’s.

As he lingered in the doorway, I realized just how big of a guy he really was. Taller than me by at least a couple of inches, and so muscular that he looked like he’d bust out of the pale green shirt he wore. It was a wonder I’d never noticed his size before. Especially with the shock of wavy auburn hair that was combed back on top and buzzed on the sides, and matching scruff covering his jaw, chin, and upper lip. Jesus, he could be a pro wrestler.

He leaned back outside the door like he was checking the room number, confusion written all over his face. It was a look I’d seen plenty of times from the parents of new students, so being the one in charge, I walked over to help him out.

“It’s Ollie, right?”

Like I’d shocked him with a Taser, he jerked his head back inside. “Yeah?”

I held out my hand. “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Reid Valentine. I’m taking over for Mrs. Bishop while she’s out.”

“Reid…right,” he said, shaking my hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Officially.”

His grip was strong, his skin searing hot to match the scorching July weather.

“Are you dropping off?” I asked, as he pulled his hand back.

“Pardon me?”

“Your child. For the class.”

“Oh. No, I don’t have kids.” Then he looked around the room at the under-eighteen crowd that dominated the class, and his eyebrows shot up. “Uh, is this a kids’ class?”

Wait, was he here to attend? Really… “Not technically, no.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, it’s open to all ages, but it’s primarily filled with kids or teens who’ve been sent by their parents. We don’t get too many adults.” If ever.

“Oh.” He ran a hand through his damp hair and looked ready to bolt.

“Are you here for the class?”

“I was. I mean, I am.”

“Is this like a bucket list thing for you?”

“Uh…yeah. Something like that.”

“Come on in, and I’ll get you set up.” I walked over to the piano at the front of the room and grabbed one of the sheets from the top. When I handed it to him, he looked down at the paper in confusion. “That’s the lesson for today.”

“This is the beginner’s stuff?”

“It is.” My lips twisted as I fought back a grin, because bless his heart, he was out of place. But I’d welcome anyone who wanted to learn an instrument, even if they were mid-thirties-ish and looked like they could bench-press me if I looked at them wrong.

“So, should I, uh…take a seat?” he asked.

“Yep, anywhere you like. We’ll start in a few minutes.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He chose one of the pianos near the front, since a handful of teens had taken up residence at the ones in the back, and as he set the sheet music in front of him and wiped his hands on his jeans, I almost laughed. I had a feeling the kids were going to kick his ass at playing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

Once everyone was inside, I went to the front of the room and whistled to get everyone’s attention.

“All right, welcome, folks, to Piano for Beginners. My name is Mr. Valentine, and I’ll be filling in until Mrs. Bishop gets back.”

A couple of girls in the back giggled, and I ignored them. It was my name or age that seemed to get to them every time.

“Today we’re going to be focusing on the song listed on the sheet I gave you as you came in, but first, I’d like to go over proper hand posture.”

As I launched into the lesson, I went around the room to make sure everyone was positioned correctly and had their starting points. When I got to Ollie, I took his wrist and moved his hand over three keys.

“That’s middle C,” I said. “It’s your center. You get lost and you come back here.”

He looked up at me with eyes so light green they were almost clear. Damn. Were they always like that?

Ollie nodded. “My center. Got it.”

Something in his gaze sent my stomach dropping, and I let go of his wrist like he was on fire.

That unsettled feeling remained as I continued on to the next student. What the hell was that? The guy had seemed friendly enough, and I didn’t get any red flags popping up. I tried to put my reaction behind me as I continued on with the lesson. “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” was the song they’d be learning to play today, and it was one of the easier ones to begin with. Or so I’d thought.

I didn’t go near him again, keeping my distance, because my instincts told me there was something more to that guy than what he let on. Nothing dangerous…I didn’t think. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. Every so often I’d swear I felt the heat of his gaze, only to turn around and see him studiously watching his fingers as he hit the wrong key. And each time I looked over to see Ollie helplessly trying and failing to follow along, I had to fight back a grin. The poor guy, he didn’t have a musical bone in his body, and I doubted he’d ever sat behind a piano before in his life. But he was trying, and in this class, that was all that mattered. It was kind of entertaining to watch, though.

The hour passed quickly, most everyone nailing the piece, and I went around the room, gathering up their music sheets.

“All right, that’s all for today. Make sure to practice over the week, because we’ll pick back up with it next week before moving on.”

The kids couldn’t get out of there fast enough, ready to get on with their summer outside of the classroom, and I couldn’t blame them. I’d only given up my weekend as a favor to Mrs. Bishop, whose mom had been my own instructor when I was younger.

As I ventured over to where Ollie sat, I said, “Nice effort today.”

“‘Nice effort’? Is that something you say to students who fail miserably?”

“It’s not failing if you try.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he handed me his music sheet. “I definitely tried.”

“Then you didn’t do as badly as you think.”

“Yeah? You know, you’re a really good teacher. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but you made it easier to follow. Well, somewhat.”

I had to laugh. “Somewhat” was right. “Does that mean you’ll be back next week for round two?”

A grin slowly crossed his lips. “Yeah, I think so. Unless you’re making us play Beethoven in front of the class or something.”

“That’s the third lesson.”

“Well, shit, I’d better get to practicing.”

“You’ll be playing at Carnegie Hall and putting us all to shame before you know it.”

Ollie laughed. “I’m not delusional. I’m every bit as aware as you are that I have no talent for music whatsoever, but you made it fun.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

As the silence descended between us, I became acutely aware that we were the only ones left in the room, and for some reason, that sent a flurry of nerves through me. What is going on? The guy wasn’t even remotely threatening, especially from where I towered over him while he sat on the bench.

He had honest eyes and a friendly smile, for fuck’s sake. I wanted to kick myself. Now, not only did I suffer from memory loss, but I was also projecting on random people. I really am losing it.

“Well,” I said, straightening the papers on top of the piano, “I better shut things down here.”

“Yeah, I should get going too.” As Ollie rose to his feet, I noticed the color of his eyes again, and the way they matched his shirt.

Backing away, I tapped the stack on my hand and gave him a tight smile before going over to the filing cabinet to put the music sheets away.

“Um.” Ollie cleared his throat, and I looked over to where he stood by the piano at the front of the room. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I noticed you weren’t driving the other day. Did you need a ride or anything?”

Not only was the guy perceptive, but he wanted to drive me home? Maybe I wasn’t wrong to be wary. Nah, he’s just being nice.

“Oh. No, that’s okay,” I said. “I’ve been walking. You know, getting in some exercise when I can.”

“In this heat? That’s crazy.”

“Every bead of sweat is another calorie lost,” I joked.

“What if you pass out on the way? Heat stroke is a real thing. Take it from me.”

“I’ve spent a half-hour in a sauna before. I think I’ll be okay.”

“Are you saying no because of stranger danger? I promise I’m not a serial killer or anything.”

“Gee, thanks for the assurance,” I said, shaking my head, but I was smiling. “I feel so much better.”

Ollie’s smile dimmed and he tapped his fingers over the top of the piano. “No, but seriously. It’s no problem at all to drop you home, and I’d worry less if I blasted you with my air conditioning.”

“As nice as that sounds, I’ll have to pass. I appreciate the offer, but I like to walk.” You’re gonna regret that in about thirty minutes.

Ollie looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just gave me a nod and smiled. “Be safe. I’ll see you again soon, Reid.”

“Sure thing.”

As he walked out, part of me wished I would’ve taken him up on his offer, if only because my feet were starting to ache in these shoes, and he was right—it’d be a furnace outside. But no matter. It wasn’t like I was in a hurry to get home anyway.

I grabbed my satchel and made sure the room was in order before flipping off the lights and locking the classroom door. Taking my earbuds out of my pocket, I waved to the weekend receptionist and then pushed open the glass door that led outside.

As soon as I did, I was tempted to haul ass back inside. It wasn’t a quick summer shower, it was a torrential downpour that had me seeking shelter under the awning. The water covering the parking lot was already deep enough to soak a man’s socks, and as I looked down at my pressed slacks and shoes, I knew they wouldn’t be surviving the long walk home.

Great. The one day I hadn’t checked the weather, and it was a freakin’ monsoon outside. Not the way I want my day going. I thought about calling my parents, but I struck that idea down. Let them pick me up this time and they’d do it every time, and that wasn’t how I wanted to earn back my independence. I reached into my pocket for my cell phone to call an Uber, but cursed when I realized I’d left it on my kitchen counter.

A figure running across the parking lot caught my attention. Ollie hadn’t brought an umbrella either, and his clothes were already soaked through as he got to his car. As he backed out and headed toward the exit, I dashed out under the awning and waved my arms to get his attention. It was against my better judgment, and I didn’t really know the guy, but fuck it. I wasn’t walking home in this storm.

Ollie slowed to a stop next to me under the covered area and lowered his window.

“So,” I said, shaking the rain out of my hair, “how about that ride?”