dissonance. (a Böhme novel) (10 page)

“I dig System of a Down, Muse, KMFDM, and my favorite is Flobots. Woody Guthrie is another and Bob Dylan. But overall, I love music that sticks it to the man,” he said with a light laugh.

“Wow, kid. How old are you?” I asked.

He turned away from me with a sigh as if his age was a burden to him. “I’m eighteen.” He pulled his lower lip in again and chewed the ring that wrapped around it. “I know I’m young. But Bob Dylan was barely in his twenties when he started. So I’m heading in a good direction. As long as I continue to follow my oppositions, I will be fine.” He must have seen the confusion on my face. He laughed before continuing, “Anytime I have the need to run I’ll stay put. Anytime I have the need to stay put, I’ll run.
Opposition
. Right now I have the need to run like hell, so I'll stay here. It keeps me on my toes.”

“Believe me, I understand what you mean. Sometimes running is the only thing you can do to empty your head of the bullshit in life. Your passion is inspiring Mason, and I imagine you’re capable of great things,” I said with a smile.

“Hey, Mason. How you doing, man?” Blake asked as he came up behind me. The smile in his voice traced along my shoulders and the chills raking over me at how close he was didn’t help my anxiousness.
Control your nerves Brecken.

“I’m doing well. What happened to your sweatpants?” Mason asked with a grin. I stepped to the side so Blake no longer hovered behind me and for a moment embarrassment flashed across his face before his smile formed.

“Uh yeah, I thought them slightly inappropriate for this evening’s festivities.” He laughed before giving his attention to me. “Brecken, you clean up nice,” he said with a flirtatious grin. This guy was something else. Then his smile turned genuine and he met my eyes with sincerity. “You’re breathtaking.” His smile turned shy for a moment and he gave me a nod.

With a deep breath I tilted my chin to the side and lifted my head. I had to remind myself that I didn't get shy. But his eyes filled with so much kindness it ate away at me and I fought against my urge to turn away. There had to be something wrong with him, a guy couldn't be that nice. Granted he gave a smart ass statement before the nice one, but I understood that to be his own awkwardness at being sincere.

“Why thank you, Blake.” With exaggeration I examined him as I crossed my arms.
I could play the part of being brave
. I noticed he had a couple tiny moles on his upper cheekbone near his eye. Others may see those as a flaw, but I found them to be a distinctly cute characteristic that made me want to hug him.
Hug him?

I tilted my head and evaluated him further. The muscles in his jaw twitched, but not in anger, more in his own nervous habit. “Hmm, you appear to be put together as well as you could be, I suppose.” I said with sarcasm and a smile so big my face felt tight. As much as I couldn’t believe him to be as kind as he let on, I was never one to not give the opportunity to prove me wrong.

His own nervousness was obvious, and it was endearing. I decided to trust that he wasn't who I originally thought him to be—at least for tonight.

He laughed a deep laugh as he put his hands in his pockets, “Thanks Brecken, and I thank you for accepting my online friendship,” he said with an odd sense of professionalism that made me smile.

“You are most welcome, sir,” I said with a salute.

His friend came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned into him. That was close for two guys to be and it made me wonder what was going on between Blake and his friend.

His friend reached around him and put a hand toward me. “My name is Gabe, my dear,” he said as he moved from behind Blake and gave a small bow of his head to me. “Blake didn’t want to introduce me. It had something to do with his own boyish embarrassment.”

Blake gave a serious stare to Gabe, and it made me laugh. He threatened his friend in that stare as if to say,
"Speak no further, for you speak the truth."
My inner monologue found itself in prime form this evening.

"Hello, Gabe. My name is Brecken," I said as I shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you."

“And it's very lovely to meet you. Both Blake and Karl speak highly of you. You’re quite the lady. And how are you doing Mason?” he asked as he gave a nod toward Mason.

“I’m great, I’ve been looking forward to this,” Mason said with a nod.

“Brecken, I didn’t get your last name.” Gabe said.

“McNett. Brecken McNett,” I said with a smile. I noticed Blake kept his eyes turned to me during the entire exchange. His attention made me conscious of my every movement.
Push hair behind my ear. Place hand gently against my hip. Tap my toe to the side.

“Well, I’m going to go mingle. It was nice meeting you Brecken,” Mason said as he put his hand toward me to shake. Mason met my eyes and his smile brought nostalgia with it as if I could spend hours with him and never become bored. He was one of those people that you meet and have an instant connection to right away.
A kindred spirit.

“I will follow that cue, my boy,” Gabe said as he turned to go talk to a group of women by the stage.

“Hey Mason, let me see your phone,” I said, calling him back to our conversation. He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to me with a smile as he glanced over my shoulder at Blake with a wink. I chuckled to myself as I programmed my number into his phone. “Give me a call if you want to play drums sometime. I’m sure Conall is up for jamming with us too.”

He took his phone back and continued to give Blake a proud smile. “Thanks Brecken, I’d love to,” he said as he turned to talk to the others.

Blake gave me a quizzical expression. "So Mason can get your number, but I can’t?" he asked as he rocked on his feet.

“Yes, Mason’s not trying to get in my pants. We discussed music. If you chose to talk to me, I might give you my number,” I said as I turned my foot on the heel of my shoe, knowing full well that there were many things I wanted to give to Blake.

“Ouch. Did you forget our car discussion? Cartoons? I kept myself up last night for hours researching them,” he said with the big ass smile of his that reminded me of the joy I experienced as a child. Blake carried no burdens, and he was the lightest person I had ever met. He didn’t hold anger in him and it was astonishing. I never met someone with that much kindness. Again, another questionable trait of his—no one could be that carefree.

“I didn’t forget. It was impressive. Not many guys know cars.” I made a point to over express my comment on guys knowing cars. There is always that comment regarding chicks that dig cars. It makes us resemble unicorns as if we were nonexistent. I hate that.

"Not many people, male or female, can work on cars these days. They just take them to the shop and pay someone else to do it. That’s one thing the modern era does that confuses me. Why wouldn't you want to know how to do things? My parents wanted me to take care of myself," Blake said. "So they taught me from a young age to value self reliance."

When he spoke he gave his full attention to me. He didn’t fidget and glance around the room. He didn’t lift his eyes over my shoulder in hopes to find another conversation. He didn’t look up as he thought of what to say. No, Blake's attention was on me. He met my eyes with quiet determination.

“My parents were the same way. They wanted my brother and me to be able to take care of ourselves. They said the best thing they could do as parents was teach us independence.” I tapped my fingers on my elbows as I crossed them, before continuing, “They didn’t want us to expect someone else to fulfill our dreams. We were the only ones that could do it.”

“What are your dreams, Brecken?” Blake asked with sincerity.
Damn, he really wants to know.
His voice was deep, and he spoke with patience. He was amazing and I needed to decide if he was worth waiting for the inevitable bottom to drop out.

“I’m living it, Blake. Travel, play music, just living each day—that’s my dream,” I smiled shyly. Shyness again, good lord—he made me shy.

“What do you do when you aren’t playing music?” he asked, and I raised an eyebrow at his question. “I mean, what’s your day job, or do you only play music?”

“Well, I bake. I work with my mom. I traveled for a while though. What about you?” I asked.

“No traveling for me, but that’s cool. It’s awesome to work with family. The roofing company I work for is my dad’s. I'm not sure if I mentioned that last night.”

No, you didn’t, but I read it on your profile.

“Roofing. Nice,” I said, trying not to let my thoughts on imagining him shirtless on a roof show. I cleared my throat. “Donnelly's on Broadway is the bakery. Have you heard of it?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, I've driven past, but I’ve never been there. That’s the place that’s organic and puts vegetables in the cakes right?” he asked.

“Yep, that’s the one. My mom opened it after my dad died,” I said as I looked away briefly.

When I said my dad died, empathy touched his eyes and tugged at my heart.
Damn it, how could one guy be this fucking nice?
His skeletons had to be well hidden somewhere.

“I’m sorry about your dad. I’m also sorry I've never been to the bakery. But I’m not much of a health nut,” he said with a shy smile. It was the first time he didn’t try to hide the embarrassment that reached his smile.

I let out a soft breath, “While we are saying sorry—I'm sorry for how I was last night Blake. You aren’t who I thought you were and I apologize.” I crinkled my brow and felt a fool for jumping into this topic. “I get defensive and assume guys are assholes. But I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt, despite you not liking real food.” I smiled.

“Why thank you, Brecken. I’m glad you don’t think I’m an asshole,” he said with his easy grin.

“Oh, don’t give me that smiley smile of yours, Blake. I didn’t say you weren’t an asshole. I said most guys are, that doesn’t mean you aren’t one,” I said with a light backhand to his chest.

“Do you want something to drink Brecken?” he asked as he waved toward the open bar, ignoring my asshole remark.

“Sure, but just water for me,” I said as he nodded and walked away. I smiled as I watched him interact with others and wondered how I was going to not become addicted to him. He held charisma in the palm of his hand and he did it without even realizing it.

He was who he was. People couldn't resist him. Every person at the bar had something to say to Blake, and I watched as he listened to each of them.

He leaned on the bar and gave me a smile that required him to pull his bottom lip into his mouth. From what I gathered from him, he was equal amounts sexuality and sincerity, and in that expression he could change my mind on men. Well, maybe not every man, but definitely one.

He walked back to me and never let his eyes leave mine. “So Brecken, what’re you thinking?” he asked as he handed me my water.

“What am I thinking? I’m thinking that I made a poor choice in footwear and that I’m nervous as hell for when Conall makes me get up there,” I said as I pointed at the stage.

He put his beer to his lips and raised an eyebrow in question before taking a drink. “Why are you nervous to get on stage? You were on one last night.”

“Well, last night I had my drums. Conall wants me to sing tonight,” I said before taking a drink of my water.

He jerked his head back as if I had shot him. “You sing too?” he asked. “That makes you even hotter,” he said with a smart ass smile, wearing an expression that reminded me of a horny teenager. “I’m not saying that in a patronizing way either,” he said in seriousness. “I find your talent attractive.” He nodded as he took another drink.

I laughed and gave him yet another light tap to his arm in mock annoyance. “Only once in a while will I sing in public, and if you want to get punched in the groin, carry on with the mocking macho guy attitude and commenting on my level of hotness,” I said with a sweet smile.

“Hmm… Well, I look forward to it,” he said with a wink. “The singing— not the possibility of punching. But if you didn’t want me to look Brecken, you shouldn't have worn that dress."
Cocky bastard
.

I lifted an eyebrow at him. “Just so you know—my fist is twitching.”

He laughed and gave me a wink as his laughter morphed into a sexy grin. “I will cease to give compliments then. Forget I mentioned it. I think I want to keep my manhood without discomfort this evening. That being said, do you want to see Karl’s art?" he asked. “They’re around here; let me show you my favorite,” Blake said before taking my hand to lead me across the room toward a line of wooden boxes.

I realized as I looked at our joined hands, that this was the first time a man had held my hand in years. I had dated and had an occasional boyfriend, but I never found an innocent intimacy such as this with them. It was awkward at first, and I surrendered to it. He obviously wasn’t uncomfortable with holding my hand, so why should I be?

We stopped in front of one box and Blake turned to me as he set his beer on the table next to it and lifted the box's lid. He kept my hand firmly in his, reminding me that he was here right now in this moment with me.

He gave my hand a gentle tug to lead me closer to the box. “Go ahead and have a look.” He dropped my hand before placing his on my back. Then I leaned forward to take in one of the most detailed paintings I had seen.