More Than Music (18 page)

During our final rehearsal before the live show, Jared wore a T-shirt with a bunch of X-Men villains on it, like Magneto and Mystique. Seeing him embrace his inner geek made me want to rip his clothes off right there in the studio. He kept grinning at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking, but the other guys were too busy practicing to notice.

After we finished, the guys headed back to the hotel, and I made an excuse about wanting to check out the piano in one of the other practice rooms. I’d hoped Jared would stay behind, too, but unfortunately, he left with them. Oh, well. Just me and the music. But I was used to that after a lifetime of practicing alone.

It wasn’t completely an excuse either; I’d been itching to get back on the piano. I hadn’t touched one since I’d joined the band, except for that brief moment with Kyle’s keyboard. Guitar had completely taken over my life, and while I didn’t regret it for a second, I did miss other instruments, too. Okay, not so much the clarinet.

I sat in front of the piano and ran my fingers along the smooth black-and-white keys. Without thinking, I slipped into my usual warm-up routine, as if I was practicing in my old living room or in one of the music rooms at school. The nostalgia should have been comforting, but instead it made me feel trapped, like I was shoving my true self back in a box.

I shook off the feeling and placed my fingers back on the keys. I wouldn’t play anything I’d practiced in school. If I had only a few stolen minutes with a piano, I would play the music I loved most: movie scores. I’d lose myself in an epic piece, letting the melody paint a scene in my head, from romantic to action-packed to bittersweet.

To get into the mood, I played through a few different themes, from
The Godfather
to
Harry Potter
to
Inception
. Jared walked in at the end of the
Jurassic Park
theme, and I barely managed to keep my cool while I finished the piece, trying not to show how much his presence affected me. He could have returned to the lobby to flirt with other girls and keep his reputation going, but instead he’d come back to me.

He slid onto the bench, fitting against my side in a way that was deliciously distracting. “I should have known you’d sneak off to spend time with John Williams.”

“I can’t help it. He’s just so dreamy,” I said with an overly dramatic sigh.

“There you go, making me jealous again.”

“How about this instead?” I started a fun piece while Jared watched my fingers dance across the keys.

“I know this,” he said. “
Nightmare Before Christmas
, right?”

I nodded. “Danny Elfman is my hero. He sang for Oingo Boingo—”

“Who did the best ‘80s song ever, ‘Dead’s Man’s Party.’”

“Yes! He also writes movie scores, like for all the Tim Burton films. I basically want to be him when I grow up.”

“He does make some great Halloween music.” He nudged me with his elbow. “Kyle told me you’re from the Bay Area. Why didn’t you go to the San Francisco Conservatory if you’re such a musical genius?” My hands froze over the keys, and he said, “Sorry if that’s too personal a question…”

“No, it’s fine.” I took a moment to consider my next words. “I picked UCLA so I’d be far enough away that I couldn’t go home all the time, but close enough to hop on a quick flight if there was an emergency.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Everything okay?”

“My mom’s an alcoholic. Sober at the moment, but she’s told me that before, so who knows. She’s also just…a mess. It’s a rare day she gets out of bed. And my father…” I used my sleeve to wipe fingerprints off the music rack, keeping my eyes fixed in front of me. “He had an affair with my mom. She had no idea he was married and had kids, a whole secret life he kept from her, but when she got pregnant, he confessed everything.”

“Damn. That’s messed up.”

“Yeah. Most of the time I forget that part of my family entirely, until he does something like buying me a guilt car for my sixteenth birthday. He paid for all my music lessons and instruments as a kid, too, like he thought he could make up for not being a real dad by throwing money at us.” I tried to shrug it off. “What about you? Kyle told me you both grew up in LA, and I know your mom is a songwriter and your dad a lawyer, but that’s it.”

Jared stared at the keys and didn’t answer, and I worried I’d crossed some line by asking him something personal, even though I’d just spilled something myself. Finally, he said, “My parents split up when I was seventeen and Kyle was fifteen. Nasty divorce.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“They’d fought for so long I was relieved at first—until they started trying to get information out of me and Kyle, using us like pawns in their never-ending battle. They even wanted us to testify that the other parent was ‘unfit’ to get custody of us, too.”

“That’s horrible.” All these years, Kyle had never mentioned any of this. Though, in retrospect, he’d never mentioned any of his family except Jared. I could understand why.

Jared trailed his fingers along the keyboard, staring at nothing while he spoke. “When I wouldn’t play their games they focused on Kyle, and it really messed with his head. He started doing drugs, he was sent to therapy—it was bad. I was supposed to go to Columbia but switched to UCLA at the last minute and rented us a place so Kyle could live with me while he finished high school. He got better once my parents gave him some space, and I think being in the band helped a lot, too. Since then it’s just been the two of us, except for the obligatory holiday dinners with one of our parents.”

No wonder the brothers were so close. I’d never known Kyle had such a dark past—he’d always seemed like the most balanced one in the band. I placed my hand over Jared’s, entwining our fingers together. “You’re a good brother.”

He was silent for a moment and then cleared his throat. “So have you started applying to grad schools yet?”

“Not yet. But now, with the show…I don’t know.” I removed my hand from his. My future used to be crystal clear and I’d known exactly what I wanted and how to get there, but joining the band had changed everything. Something had shifted in me over these past few weeks. I still wanted to write movie scores someday, but I wanted to focus on being the guitarist for Villain Complex, too. If we managed to win the show, there’d be tours and albums to record, and I didn’t know if there was room in that life for grad school, too. But I didn’t want to quit the band or leave behind this new part of myself. Or Jared.

“If you wanted to focus on school, we’d understand,” he said, as though he could read my thoughts. “I mean, we’d all cry and eat a lot of ice cream and listen to ‘Everybody Hurts’ by REM for days, but we’d eventually find
some
way to keep going.”

“Good to know.” I leaned against him, his body warm and comforting at my side.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you to leave.” He brushed hair away from my face, his touch gentle. “But you can’t let anyone hold you back. Not your parents, not the band, and definitely not me. In the end, all we have are our dreams.”

“What if I don’t know what my dreams are anymore?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

I thought he would kiss me, but he turned back to the piano and started playing something. I became transfixed by the sight of his long fingers moving across the keyboard and his perfect wrists and tattooed forearms arching over it. When he started singing, his voice raspy and full of emotion, I recognized the piece as “Stay” by Rihanna. Was he singing this in response to what we’d talked about? Or was I reading too much into it?

I needed to kiss him, but his voice was so beautiful I didn’t want him to stop either. Instead, I pressed my lips to his collarbone, just above his shirt and his hidden VILLAIN tattoo. While he played, I trailed kisses along his neck, his skin humming against my mouth as he sang the chorus. I nibbled his earlobe and slid a hand along his thigh, trying to see how much of a distraction I could be. But still he kept playing.

As soon as he finished the song, he yanked me against him with a groan and pressed his mouth against mine. I moved to straddle him, my knees on either side of the piano bench, pushing my hips against his hard body. I didn’t care that anyone could walk in and see us. Knowing how wrong this was, how dangerously close to being caught we were, only made this more right. I clutched his unshaven face as we kissed, and the rough feel of his stubble against my fingertips made me wild. His hands dipped under my shirt and traced patterns along my back, sending shivers down my spine.

Now that we were finally alone, we couldn’t get enough of each other. His lips kissed down my neck like he needed to taste every inch of me, and the way he pressed his mouth against my pulse made me gasp. I tilted my head back, arching against him, digging my fingers into his shoulders. His hands smoothed up my stomach, along my ribs, inch by inch until he found my breasts. He circled my nipples through my bra, and I closed my eyes, losing myself in his touch. I couldn’t focus on anything but Jared and how badly I wanted him, without all these clothes in the way. But when I moved my hands to the button of his jeans, he stopped me.

“We can’t. Not here,” he whispered, glancing at the door.

I sighed, remembering there was another life outside of this room, outside of us. “I know.”

He pressed his forehead against mine while we tried to regain control of our breathing. “Trust me, I want to. God, you have no idea.”

“Oh, I have some idea,” I said with a slight smile. “But you’re right. And we have that interview with that website tonight, too.”

He groaned. “Yay, another interview.”

“You know you love them.”

“Maybe a little.” He gave me one last lingering kiss. “But I’d rather be alone with you.”

We reluctantly broke apart, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to go slow with Jared any longer.

T
he show really was trying to starve us. By the time we finished the interview, it was close to midnight, and no one had fed us since lunch. Once we got back to the hotel, the four of us immediately piled into the band’s van and headed out to find a late-night drive-thru. We ate burgers in the backseat, shoving food in our faces and laughing at the stupid questions we’d been asked earlier. “Which mentor would you want to date?” (Dan, obviously) and “what color would your music be?” (duh, black) were our favorites.

Once we were stuffed, we drove to the nearest supermarket, since we’d been living in a hotel for weeks and needed to stock up on basic things like toothpaste and deodorant. We stepped into the harsh fluorescent lights and I reached for a shopping basket, but Kyle stopped me.

“You’ll need a cart for this,” he said with a devilish grin. Wait—how much stuff were we getting?

“All right,” Jared said, rubbing his hands together. “Time for another round of Supermarket Treasure Hunt.”

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Only the greatest game ever,” Kyle said. Hector nodded solemnly, like this was serious business.

“Since Maddie’s new, I’ll go over the rules,” Jared continued. “We each grab a cart and split up. You have ten minutes to find three bizarre items anywhere in the store, and bonus points if they all follow a theme. The person with the most ridiculous treasures wins.”

“What do we win?” I asked.

“Bragging rights, of course,” Hector said.

“Um, yay?”

“Meet in front of the bananas in ten minutes,” Jared said. “Okay, go!”

The guys all shoved each other out of the way as they grabbed their carts. I followed behind them at a slower pace, laughing as they rammed their carts into each other’s and made race car sounds before darting down the aisles. I studied the signs and chose the pet supply section, figuring this downtown supermarket probably catered to all sorts of rich people living in lofts with their pampered pets. Luckily, the place didn’t let me down. I grabbed the three oddest things I could find and rushed back to the produce section.

Kyle and Jared turned a corner ahead of me, racing to get in front of each other and nearly knocking stuff off the shelves. Kyle arrived at the finish line first and seized a banana in each hand to do a victory dance, making me laugh.