Desolate (14 page)

His fingers moved down to the sides of my head and started to caress behind my ears in the same motions as before only with softer touches. Instantly, I shivered, my breath getting caught in my throat. The massage was meant to be innocent, but it was becoming more sensual by the moment. He didn’t know that the spot he was touching was a spot that turned me on. His gentle touch along with the roughness of his calloused skin set my skin ablaze and caused parts of me to come alive that I thought were dead.

“Are you starting to feel yet?” he whispered against my ear, his fingers continuing to caress behind my ear but moving ever so slowly down the sides of my neck.

The moan that escaped my lips was inevitable. I’d been holding it in for fear that he’d get the wrong idea, but he only took that response as a yes and continued to softly caress my skin. His fingers moved down to my shoulder and then back up my neck. All the while I could feel his touch down to my toes. Never in my life had I been given this type of massage.

Suddenly his touch was gone, leaving behind a trail of heat and chills in its wake.

“Can I try something?”

“Like what?” I questioned nervously, instantly fearing that he’d gotten the wrong idea.

“I just want to rub your back. I didn’t know how you’d feel about that though.”

It was a good thing that he couldn’t see my face because I couldn’t help but grin. He was such a gentleman.

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor,” he responded, raising his right hand.

“If you say so,” I replied while moving to lay on my stomach in front of him, facing my left so that I could see what he was doing.

He lay down beside me, propping his head up on his left hand. He went to reach forward with his right hand and hesitated.

“Can I lift up your nightgown or would you rather I rub on top of it?”

The question shocked me. He really was taking all of my feelings into consideration. Without responding, I reached down and pulled the cotton material up to my shoulders. I should care that my bra was showing, but it wasn’t like he’d never seen a bra before.

He moved closer until our sides were touching and started to rub my back the same way as he rubbed my shoulders, with the slightest, gentlest touch. This type of massage was better than the kneading type if you asked me. There was something about the gentleness of it all that relaxed me even more than if he were getting kinks out of my muscles.

His touch continued to move up until he got to the bottom of my bra then back down again. With each passing stroke, I grew more relaxed. When his touch moved back up again he stopped at my bra this time.

“Can I?” he asked as he rubbed his fingers across the clasp. Without opening eyes, I told him he could. Using both hands, his fingers grasped each side and unclasped the bra. I felt exposed even though he couldn’t see anything. The second I was about to tense, he started caressing my skin again.

“You have the softest skin I’ve ever felt. So silky smooth,” he whispered, never wavering with his touch.

His touch moved down my sides causing me to giggle a little. I was somewhat ticklish if I hadn’t prepared myself beforehand. He started to stop, but I moved into his touch and he continued. This time his touch was harder. He pushed the tips of his fingers into my skin, pushing his fingers up my side in the process. He slowly dragged his fingers back down, never wavering in the pressure within his touch. He tugged me closer when he reached my hip, moving me onto my side. My heart was pounding in my chest. Where was this going? I almost didn’t want to find out.

Instead of taking it farther, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me like his life depended on it. His state of arousal was apparent, but he didn’t act on it. He just continued to hug me and rock back and forth.

“How was that for feeling?” he whispered into my ear.

I just replied with the only word that came to mind, “Perfect.” Instead of moving, I leaned into him, feeling safer than I had in months. The heat from the fire and the gentle rocking lulled me to sleep in no time.

* * *

T
he chill
in the air woke me. Confused as to where I was, I looked around and realized I was on the floor in the living room. Instantly, I recalled the events of the night before. How Weston made me feel once I confessed the guilty feelings I had about being happy. I didn’t deserve his kindness. If anything, I deserved for him to walk away.

“Good morning,” I heard him respond from behind me.

I turned all the way over on my right side to face him, a smile gracing my lips for the first time in the morning since I moved here. His arm went back around my waist, but his body went tense. I brushed it off to him just waking up though.

“Good morning, Weston,” I responded with a cheerful tone. A tone that he picked up on right away by the shocked expression on his face.

“Um…Magdalena. I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Your nightgown…It’s lifted.”

Looking down, I noticed that my nightgown was still raised from the night before and my bra was still undone. The only problem with this was that I was facing him and he could see a glimpse of my breasts underneath my loose bra.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I forgot all about that,” I replied attempting to cover myself while I reached behind me to hook the clasp.

“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” He leaned forward and grabbed each side of the bra and pulled them together, hooking the clasp. Once it was back in place, he helped me pull my nightgown down.

“Thank you,” I replied, still feeling like an idiot. I had no clue how I didn’t notice it was still up.

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” He caressed my cheek. His touch soothed me, made me feel safe and wanted. Two combinations I knew I wasn’t ready for but couldn’t help but feel.

I tilted my head to look up at him, and the second our gazes locked I knew he’d be the person to get me to break out of my shell.

His thumb continued to rub up and down my cheek bone. He looked as if he wanted to speak but was contemplating how to word whatever it was he was trying to say. When he leaned into me I thought he was going to kiss me, and I was right. Only his soft lips met my forehead instead, lingering for a few seconds then retreating back.

His pointer finger came underneath my chin and he pulled my head back to meet his gaze.

“I want to kiss you. God do I want to kiss you, but I won’t. I can’t ruin what we’re building here by doing that. Plus, I have a feeling it’s something that you’re not ready for. You’re not over your husband, and I respect that too much to confuse you,” he stated and leaned down to kiss my forehead again.

I pulled back and looked up at him, the promise that shown in the depths of his baby blue eyes gave me all the courage I needed to say what I was about to say.

“Grace’s at your mom’s right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Why don’t you go get her and we can all have breakfast together?” I suggested.

“Magdalena, you don’t have to do this. I know being around her is hard for you.”

“While that may be, I want her to come over and I want all of us to have breakfast together,” I reassured him, hopefully showing him that I was willing to try something that he suggested even if it scared the daylights out of me.

“As long as you’re sure, I’ll go and get her. I know she’d love to come over here. She always gets excited to be out in the open and roam the grounds.”

“Who knows? Maybe she can ride Shadow later if it’s not too cold,” I stated with a smile and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.

Without waiting for a response, I jumped up and took off for the kitchen in hopes that it would make him get a move on. I couldn’t wait to see what the day would bring. Now the only question was what I was going to make for breakfast.

About forty minutes later, I heard Weston’s truck door shut. Seconds after that, an excited little girl barreled through the door with her handsome father at her heels.

“Lena,” she screamed as she ran through the kitchen in my direction.

I quickly shut off the griddle and bent down to get her when she got close enough.

“Hello to you too, Grace. But remember no running in the kitchen, okay?” I stated as I kissed the top of her head.

“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered looking over to her daddy.

“It’s okay, pumpkin. Just don’t do it again okay? We don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Breakfast?” she asked as she pointed to the griddle.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Do you like pancakes?”

“Cakes?” And just like that I felt the world crumble around me. I tried to not let the immediate sadness get to me, but I could tell the moment that it registered that her word had triggered another memory. Instantly I was brought back to the morning of the day that they had died. Hearing Liam’s excited voice as he helped his father stir the batter for the pancakes.

Weston rushed over and grabbed Grace from my arms and pulled me in for a hug. I didn’t want him to see me like this, but when I tried to pull away so I could leave and collect myself, his grip tightened around me. I burrowed my head in his shoulder and let all of the emotions out from that happy, yet painful memory. Minutes later, I lifted my head and turned away from them both so I could wipe away my tears.

When I turned back around, Grace reached her little hand out and touched the spot underneath my eye.

“Lena, sad?” she questioned with a worried tone.

“Lena’s okay sweetie. Are you hungry? How about we get you some of these yummy pancakes?”

“Yay,” she cheered while clapping her hands. One diversion had been succeeded, but when I looked up at her father, I knew that I wouldn’t get away with trying to divert his attention. He rubbed my back as I gathered the plate of pancakes and syrup then he guided me over to the table.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, it was just a memory of Liam. He used to call pancakes the same thing too,” I confessed with a half ass smile on my face as I attempted to mask the pain. Only it felt good in a way to have someone to confess the feelings to.

After we’d sat down and he placed Grace comfortably in his lap, he rubbed the top of my hand and we dug into the delicious food before us.

B
reakfast
without of without a hitch and soon after we both took Grace outside to let her play in the snow since it had tapered off. Shockingly, we’d only gotten about an inch or so for once. She was quickly played out and Weston took her home so that she could nap for which I was thankful. I needed some alone time to wrap my brain around the changes that were happening around me. How did he weasel his way into my life so quickly? And more importantly, how did he get me to change my mind about everything in the blink of an eye? He had this way about him that just made me feel at ease. Like we’d been friends for years’ kind of feeling, which I believe could describe the madness that I’d agreed to last night.

With them gone, I decided to go and change into some comfortable pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. As I was pulling my hair from beneath the shirt, I looked over to the closet, wondering if I could do one of the things from his suggestions. I could already cross feeling off of the list. He’d made me just feel in the moment, take in the comfort that he so willingly gave me, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t gone running for the hills. While it scared me and made my heart feel like it was hammering out of my chest, I remained in the moment. The real question this time was could I stay in the moment with what I was about to consider. Behind the door tucked away on the top shelf, was an item I’d sworn to never touch again. The joy that I’d gotten from it couldn’t begin to be rekindled since so much pain was also brought with it. While I’d listened to the music and danced with Weston, I didn’t think I could consider, let alone play a song again. I loved to play. Andrew adored the music that I played. But most of all my mother loved to watch me strum the keys and get lost in the music they produced. Just those thoughts alone had me wanting to storm out of the room, but I remained still. Waiting for the moment that my brain and my heart were on the same page. I needed to live again. To take in the joys that life had to offer and take away from the simple things that used to make me happy again. Not live in fear that my happiness would be snatched away from me again.

Without giving it much more thought, I walked over to the closet and opened the door. I stood on my toes and reached for the case that held my keyboard. Careful not to drop it, I grasped the case with both hands and pulled it down. I wiped off the dust and carried it off into the kitchen. I wanted to at least get it out of it’s case. I didn’t necessarily have to play it today, but looking at it was a step in the right direction.

I sat the black case down on the table and grabbed the zipper, slowly inching it open. Once I’d made it to the other side, I quickly opened the case and stared down at the instrument that had brought me such joy. While it wasn’t a piano, it was the next best thing. Only the keyboard wasn’t the only item the case contained. There was a small recorder off to the side. Confused, I reached inside and picked up the silver gadget, inspecting every inch of it.

Hesitantly, I pressed rewind and when it clicked to finish, I pressed play. The voice that came across the speakers was one that I instantly recognized. My feet could no longer hold me and I fell into one of the chairs at the table.

Andrew.

My dear sweet Andrew.

Along with the one song he always wanted me to play.

“She’s much more amazing than I heard yesterday,” Andrew stated.

I took a moment and realized where this recording took place. It was the day before a recital that I had in college, where me and another classmate just happened to be performing his favorite song. And instead of pushing the memory away, I let it take hold.

“Hey. Magdalena, right?” Andrew nonchalantly asked as he walked beside me.

“Yeah. Andrew, right?” I asked already knowing the answer but not knowing what else to say.

“I was heading over to your dorm to check to see how you were doing and you appear.”

“As you can see I’m fine,” I confirmed, not really knowing what the definition of fine meant anymore.

“You appear to be. Can I walk you to where you’re heading?” What was it with him and his need to walk me? It’s not like we knew each other and we’d never get to that point. I didn’t need to get close to anyone ever again.

“Sure,” I stated, while I kept the other thoughts to myself. He’d realize it soon enough anyways.

“How long have you played?” he asked, seeming to really want to know the answer based on the excited tone in his voice.

“Since I was six years old,” I replied, not really wanting to go into the get to know you questions.

“That explains it then.”

“Explains what exactly?”

“The emotions you express when you play. They appear all over your face, in your posture, the way you press the keys. All of it. It shows just how passionate you are about the music you’re playing.”

Wow. I had no clue people could see all that just by watching me perform.

I didn’t know what to say, so instead I nodded and started walking a little faster toward the building that was so close yet seemed so far away.

When we reached the building, I thought he’d turn around, but instead he followed me inside and into the auditorium. The piano was already set up for class later today, where we’d be practicing our performances. I stopped short of the stage and sat down my backpack. I wanted to do this alone, but I didn’t want to appear rude. Especially since he’d just walked me all of this way.

“Do you have class now?” I asked, hoping he’d get the hint and leave me here to get lost in the song.

“Not at the moment,” he replied as he pulled out his phone from his pocket. After he checked the time he responded, “I’ve got an hour before I have to be there actually. What are you doing here? Are you practicing?”

“I was going to try and get in some practicing on the actual piano before class today when we start rehearsing. I’ve yet to practice it on the piano, only the keyboard,” I replied while I fidgeted with my fingers.

“Can I watch you play? It’s truly an amazing site to see. You won’t even know I’m here,” he promised as he put up his fingers to indicate the Scouts Honor.

“As long as you promise not to interrupt, I don’t see a problem. I don’t need any distractions. I have to perfect this before Friday,” I explained and then set off to walk on stage without waiting for his response. Hopefully he’d be gone when I finished.

I walked up the stairs focused on one thing. Getting behind the piano and getting lost in it for the next hour before class began. After I sat down and got the bench seated where I’d be most comfortable, I pushed on a few keys to test out the notes. I shut my eyes the way I usually did when I performed. My instructor hated it, but it was the only way I’d become one with the song. Friday would prove difficult when I’d have to face the audience with my eyes fully opened. Stage fright wasn’t the problem. It was just a different way than I was used to performing.

I positioned my hands perfectly where they needed to be to start the song and set out to play my heart out. I decided I’d get comfortable and play the song through, then I’d sing with it the second time. I needed to save my voice some, but warming up wouldn’t hurt anything. I could instantly tell the difference in the sound and the feel of the keys, but it was home. Behind this piano was where I belonged. Where I’d always felt most comfortable.

I’d just finished up the first round and was about to start the second when the door slammed shut, breaking my concentration. I looked to the up at the door to see who’d come in and hoped that no one would stop me from practicing. To my surprise it was Mckayla. She bounced down the walkway with her instrument in her hand and was up the stairs before I could even blink.

“I just knew you’d be in here, and I couldn’t wait until this afternoon to practice. I’m so happy I was right. Now let rock this shit,” Makayla, my classmate performing alone with me, stated in the all too chipper tone that I always associated with her. That was her, though. Too damn happy for her own damn good.

“Perfect,” I stated through a fake smile but knew that we could use this extra time to get our performance just right.

I sat back down on the bench and waited for her to get out her violin. She was amazing with that instrument, and she’d go far if she stuck with it. We’d yet to discuss how we were going to do this, but when she hopped up on the grand piano and laid down, I knew she’d read my mind on what I thought would make this performance even more emotional.

I began to play just after the first strum on her violin, and just like that I was lost in the sounds coming from both instruments. They really complimented each other perfectly with this song. I had no clue how’d she’d play and sing in that position, but we’d get it right eventually.

Upon the completion of the first verse, I knew that we’d chosen the perfect song to compliment both of us. We’d already performed the songs we’d written at the fall festival, and I loved that the instructor wanted us to perform a piece that we loved instead of another piece we’d written.

By the third verse, I was emotionally drained and it took every ounce of strength I had to get through the last words of the chorus without crying. I didn’t want to cry anymore. Crying made my head hurt and the ache from this morning had just started to dissipate but threatened to return. But I played on, never wavering until the very end when I hit one wrong note. Other than that our first official performance in here was flawless.

“Oh my God, Maggie. We were amazing,” she stated as she sat up then jumped off of the piano. She was right. It was an amazing performance. Too bad my mom and dad would never get to see it.

“We should record it so we can play it back to ourselves later,” I suggested. It would help me in the long run, plus I wanted this for my memory bank from college. A stupid idea that my mom had me do since I started three years ago.

“Yes we should and you can send me the file or vice versa that way we both have a copy,” she shrieked, a little too excited from the high of our performance.

I looked down at Andrew and he was seated in the front row, that damn smile still gracing his lips. No one should be allowed to be that happy all of the time. It wasn’t healthy.

“You don’t have to stay. We’re just going to play it through one more time, then we’ve gotta head out before the class comes in here,” I suggested. I didn’t want him here in case I broke down again. For some reason, I didn’t want these two to think I was a basket case. Even though Mckayla would understand, I hated ever showing that much emotion in front of anyone.

“I can stay. I love hearing you guys together. Separately you’re still amazing, but together you blow it out of the water.”

Just great. Hopefully, I’d be able to rein in the emotions this song evoked from me just a little longer.

I went down and dug my phone out of the backpack and handed it to Andrew, telling him to press play when I gave him the signal.

I rushed back up the stairs to the stage in an attempt to get this over as quickly as possible.

For the third time in a matter of minutes, I was getting lost in a song that meant too much to me. One that would be forever ingrained in my soul. The lyrics and the chords instantly pulled me in yet again, and I shut my eyes to drown out everything else in the room except for the music.

On the very last chorus, I poured all of the emotion that I had bottled up inside and finished the song stronger than I’d ever done before. As I played the last note, I remained still and took a few deep breaths before I sat up from the bench and shut the lid of the piano. I turned to face the empty auditorium and noticed that it wasn’t so empty anymore. A few people had come in and were clapping and shouting from the back of the room. My face instantly turned red at their encouragement. I peered over at Mckayla and her hand was over her mouth just as shocked as I was. We were going to rock this performance. People were already loving it from just the few that had witnessed it. I couldn’t wait until Friday. Tonight we wouldn’t sing, but Friday we’d blow down this house.

I walked down the stairs to grab my bag and get the hell out of dodge. The thirty minutes I had until my next class would be used to compose myself from all of the emotion in that room. There was so much it felt suffocating. I rarely ever showed emotion, but these past few days have tested every ounce of it that I had within me.

I brushed past Andrew hoping that he’d take the hint that I needed to get out of here and leave me be. I didn’t have the strength to be nice right now. I had one goal in mind and that was leaving the room before I lost my shit.

After I jerked my bag up off of the floor, I darted up the aisle, needing to leave. I heard him calling after me but I just couldn’t. His sweetness didn’t need to be tainted by my doom and gloom attitude. He seemed like a nice person, but I couldn’t handle it. In that moment I needed to be alone. I’d have to get used to it sooner or later anyways. There’d be no one around when summer rolled around.

I was almost running as I went through the next set of doors and exited the concert hall. I hated being rude, but Mckayla knew how my moods fluctuated and she was the only one that mattered. In another time, I would’ve cared about Andrew, but right now I only had the energy to care about me.

“Hey!” I heard him shout for the umpteenth time, and I decided to stop when I was midway between my building and the concert hall and turn around.

“I can’t right now, Andrew. I need to be alone,” I gritted through my teeth a little harsher than I’d ever spoken to anyone. This wasn’t who I was, but he needed to get the hint eventually.

“Two things and I’ll let you be on your way. One, great performance. I had chills all three times. Two, here’s your phone,” he stated as he held out my phone. God, Magdalena, you’re such a bitch.