No Strings Attached (4 page)

“Depends on you. So, did I keep you up?”

“Only until one.”

“Pfft, you wuss. I haven't slept in close to thirty-two hours. Dozed maybe, but not slept.”

“Ouch. I hope that wasn't my fault.”

He looked over at me, and while it was shortly after dusk, I couldn't mistake the dark circles under his eyes. “Not entirely, no. At first, maybe, but I have a piece I need to finish by the end of the month so we can have it ready for Webster Hall in August.”

“The Webster Hall? As in the one in New York?”

“The very same.”

I stared out my passenger side window, not sure what to say. Compared to Thayre conducting an orchestra and freaking playing at Webster Hall, my waitressing gig seemed so unimportant. A part of me wondered if I'd have been in a similar situation if I hadn't given up my schooling or got involved with my ex—a man who made me give up my music for three fucking years.

“That's amazing, Thayre.”

“You don't sound happy.”

“No, I am, it's just, compared to—”

“Moyra, do you remember what Mr. Tolis said?”

“Our old instructor?” I glanced at him.

“Life isn't a competition. Someone will always reach the finish line before you, but you'll only get there yourself by going at your own pace.”

“And staying up for thirty-two hours straight is your pace?”

“I wish. No. I'm in a rut right now. Our first violinist had another offer she had to take. I don't blame her in the least, and I'm happy for her, but you won't believe how hard it is to find a decent violinist in this region, let alone Pennsylvania. And locally? Forget it.”

I nodded. In fact, I'd been the first violinist at our school as well as one of our local youth groups, but I knew I was nowhere near ready to play in front of other people. Three-year sabbatical or not, I still wouldn't have been half as qualified as anyone else.

“So you're staying up to fill the part yourself?” I asked.

“If I have to, yes. But I'm really hoping it won't come to that. The crew is used to the way I conduct, and while we could probably play without a conductor, I'd feel a lot better if we had one anyway, and every conductor works differently. So what one may think sounds perfect, the other might want to tweak.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but then stopped once I realized we'd turned in the opposite direction of his house. “We aren't going to your place?”

“We will, but I haven't really eaten yet today—or most of yesterday. Bad habit, I know. In any case, I figured we could get a bite. You hungry?”

“I could eat, but don't go to Kimber's.”

He frowned. “I hadn't considered it, actually. You have a bad experience there or something?”

“Yeah. I work there.”

He groaned. “Manager's an ass.”

“Try working for him sometime. He isn't nearly as unpleasant to the customers as he is to his staff.”

“Why stay?”

“Like it or not, the wages are somewhat decent. That, and getting into one of the other, higher paying restaurants in town is close to impossible.”

“Have you tried Max's?”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “A place I enjoy eating at? Hell no. I refuse to work where I eat. What do you think would happen if I got fired or quit? I'd never be able to show my face there again.”

“Hmm, you do have a point, but does that mean you aren't against the idea of going to Max's?”

“Of course not. We used to go there all the time after practice, remember?”

“Why do you think I mentioned it? Best shakes in town.”

“They do make a mad chocolate malt, don't they?”

He scoffed. “Chocolate? Thin Mint's where it's at.”

I rolled my eyes. Somehow, Max's had managed to make milkshakes flavored like Girlscout cookies, and the best part was the shakes tasted like the real thing. Every time.

“Being addicted to those cookies is bad enough,” I said. “I think I can do without a milkshake addiction. At least the cookies come once a year.”

“But that's the best part about Max's. It's year-round!”

“Precisely.”

Silence settled around us then, but it was short-lived, for as soon as we turned into the parking lot, we fell into easy conversation about music, Max's and how horrible the manager at Kimber's was. Of course, we kept the badmouthing to an acceptable volume whenever someone passed by our booth, but then we'd kick it up again.

After a shake, burger and fries, Thayre hooked his hands behind his head and glanced up at the tiled ceiling. “Tastes as good as I remember.”

“Probably because you were hungry,” I said, still working on my last handful of fries.

“You weren't?”

“I wouldn't have ordered if that was the case, but you know everything tastes better when you're hungry.”

“So true.” He stretched, then stifled a yawn. “You have some music for me?” I was about to reach into my purse when he reached for my hand. “I don't need to see it, I just wanted to make sure we didn't have to stop at your place first.”

I neglected my music and set my arm back on the table. “So if I'd left it at home, you would've made us go back?”

“Of course. Damn, Moyra, I haven't gotten to see you or your writing process for years. If I need to put another three miles worth of gas in my tank to have that experience again, you better believe I will.”

“You won't. I have it with me.” I sat back and stared at my fries.

“You done? You're giving your food the evil eye.”

“I wish I could finish, but yeah. Not sure I can take another bite if you're still expecting me to play before tomorrow morning.”

“Well then, let's get you to my studio.”

A
fter splitting the check, and, once Thayre ate a few of my leftover fries, we got into the car and headed for his place. The silence from earlier returned, but this time, we didn't have far to go. His house was five minutes from Max's, so while he drove, I tried to get my thoughts straight.

We passed the corner where he'd found me the other night, and I shivered from the memory. Not because of how cold I'd been, but because of everything that had happened after he'd invited me inside. We'd played it safe and kept to neutral topics, but I couldn't help feeling as though we were still standing on uneven ground.

He knew I'd been sleeping around no thanks to the shady bar I'd ended up in. However, the same couldn't be said for him. All I knew about him so far was he worked obsessively on his writing, and while he hadn't said anything, it was safe to say conducting wasn't his job—it was his life. If he were dating, it would have to be with someone who appreciated music as much as he did.

If only you realized this sooner.
If I'd held on to my passion, the crap with Bret never would've happened. Hell, Thayre and I may have stayed in touch if I'd been as serious about my music at the start of college as he was.

“You coming?” Thayre asked, canting his head to one side after he'd opened my door.

I hadn't realized the car had stopped moving. “Of course.”

I got out with his help, and the bit of electricity that jumped from his fingers to my own sent a shiver down my spine. I swallowed and cautiously hooked my arm with his, forcing a smile when he glanced at me.

“Nervous?” he asked, digging in his other pocket for his keys. “Don't be. You'll be fine.”

The music isn't what concerns me.
Okay, so that was a lie. I was still worried about how I'd sound seeing as I didn't have a violin to practice on, but that wasn't why my stomach had tied itself in knots or why my fingers twitched.

I withdrew my arm from his once we were inside and, very casually, removed my coat to hide the shaking of my hands.

“Coffee?” Thayre threw back over his shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen.

Like I need my hands to shake even more.
“And get stuck staying up all night? I think I'll pass.”

“You wouldn't mind if I got some for myself, would you?”

“Not at all. But tell me you aren't planning an all-nighter again tonight.”

He offered me a sheepish grin once I joined him in the kitchen. “You know me too well.”

“You really haven't changed, have you?”

Thayre filled a pot of water and dumped it into the coffee maker before turning it on. “It wasn't for my lack of trying. I tried a few odd jobs, but none of them ever felt right. When I was grooming flowers for arrangements, all I could think about was how some of the stems felt like the bow of a violin, and when I tried out a job tuning pianos, I spent more time playing than I spent fixing them—and I don't play.”

“Well, you obviously did.”

“By ear maybe, but certainly not as a career choice.”

“So how did you get the gig as a conductor anyway?”

He shrugged. “Those jobs were back in high school. By the time school ended, I figured I may as well stick with what I'm good at. Got tired of the music programs on campus, started looking for other people I could practice with, and everything else fell into place.” Thayre removed a pair of mugs from one of the cabinets, filling one cup with the fresh coffee after setting the other on the counter. “Are you sure you don't want anything?”

“After that milkshake? No thanks.”

“I have hot chocolate.”

“Tempting, but for now, I think I'll pass.”

“Fair enough.” After adding sweeteners to his coffee, he gestured toward the basement door. “I'm sure you don't need to be shown the way.”

I shivered as much from his smile as the thought of playing in front of him again.
You're here now. No sense backing out.
Even if I did, I'd probably regret it in the morning.
It's just music. God, I hope what I wrote sounds as good as it reads on paper.

As soon as I reached the last step, something inside me clicked. It was as though all my doubts melted away. There was something about this room that put me at ease, even with Thayre following close behind me. It felt familiar. Like I'd been here before; not in this room, but in this frame of mind.

The melody played in the back of my mind, and before I knew it, I was humming loud enough for Thayre to hear.

“No, don't ruin it,” he said, grabbing my hand before directing me into his studio. He sat me on the stool, smiled, then took Angie out of her case. “Feel free to tune her if she doesn't sound right.”

I studied his beloved violin once he'd plugged it in. Fortunately, Angie was tuned perfectly. Thayre was still in the room, but like last time, he stepped behind me where I couldn't see him. Not that it helped my nerves any. The sense of calm I'd experienced after stepping into the basement was gone. My heart skipped as soon as I pulled my rough sheet music out of my purse.

I could sense Thayre watching me, his eyes on my posture, and I quickly corrected it on the off chance I was slouching.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not moving from his place behind me.

That tone.
No, I was putting too much thought into this. No way Thayre was a Dom, but if he wasn't, everything I'd experienced since I hit that last step suddenly made sense. The calm of my comfort zone, of knowing what came next would release me mentally. I'd completely forgotten the freeing sensation playing music gave me, and it wasn't until now I started to connect the dots between falling in a trance with my music and subspace.

It was a state of being present and yet, not there at all. A sense of calm overcame me, and as the beginnings of subspace tingled at the front of my mind, I zoned out. Out of the room, out of my body and away from Thayre's intense gaze.

“Moyra, you okay?” His voice was muffled, but still enough to bring me back to the sound room in his basement.

“Yes.” I cringed when my voice squeaked. “Nerves.”

“Take your time.”

He didn't say anything after that, but I could hear him breathe. Slow. Even. And without thinking, I started to inhale when he did. Exhale when I could feel his gentle breath cool the air behind me.  

Closing my eyes, I cleared my mind and gave my notes a second glance before placing them on the stand in front of me.

I set the bow on the strings, tested the notes, then started to play. The opening melody was soft—similar to what the first violinist might play to warm the crowd before the rest of the orchestra joined in. I could almost feel the thrum of the other instruments around me, but no, I was the only one playing.

I already knew what notes to play before they jumped off the page, so I fell into the music and closed my eyes. The next scale built, and it was then I started to sing.

Right before me

I was too blind to see

All the damage you've done to us

The damage done to me.

Blinded by your lust

Fueled by your control

You took my trust

You let me fall.

Standing here now

Under a cloud of rain

There's nothing left

Nothing to justify my staying here.

Climb over the rubble

Cover all my scars

Be the person you're meant to be

Not the one he thinks you are.

Get past the damage

Cut through all the pain

Justify what's left

To be who you truly are.

I released the final note into the room and opened my eyes.

Thayre was standing in front of me, his eyes as wide as his smile. “That was...” He released a long breath. Before I could react, he cupped my face and kissed me. Gently. Passionately.

I held the violin the best I could, fearing it might break if I let go. Thayre must've sensed my apprehension. In the next instant, he took the bow and violin from me, carefully setting them on the ground before pressing his lips to mine again. I wanted to reach for him, to pull him close, but I'd never been kissed like this. I didn't know the rules.
There are no rules, Moyra. You gave that up, remember?

I didn't need his permission to touch him. To kiss him back.

He broke our kiss before I could wrap my head around what had happened, his hands trembling as he reached for my own.

“Amazing,” he said, as out of breath as I was.

“Do that again,” I said.