She started to cross her arms but he reached across the table and twined his fingers through hers. His touch coursed through her like a drug.
“I like weird,” he murmured, holding her steady with his gaze. She didn’t even try to push him away.
She wanted him, and there was nothing she could do about it. The fact of it sat in her middle. With a twist of her wrist, she slid her hand away.
Surprise shimmered across his features, but he didn’t seem hurt. “Too soon, huh?” he said lightly, lifting his mug and taking a long drink. Under the table, his feet shifted so that their knees touched briefly. It seemed like an accident, but Keira tucked her legs close to her side of the table.
“Holding hands? Yeah.” Before she could tell him that it would always be too soon, he jumped in.
“Maybe on the next date.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, all confidence and promise. The almost-smile sent a tingle through her, and Keira let herself enjoy it. It wasn’t like she couldn’t ever notice a guy. She was human, after all.
Look but don’t touch, she reminded herself.
“I’m here because I owe you coffee,” she said.
“But you’re here.”
She tilted her chin up. “Just because you’re cute doesn’t mean this is a date.” The words tumbled out.
“But you think I’m cute.”
Keira tugged at the end of her ponytail, finally lost in the rising tide of her embarrassment. She felt him lean toward her, his lips close to her ear.
“I’m glad,” he whispered. “Because I think you’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve seen in as long as I can remember.”
If she’d turned her head, they would have kissed. Without meaning to, she imagined what his mouth would feel like against hers.
Music, she told herself strictly. Career. That’s what I need. Not a kiss.
“You barely know me.” She fought to sound firm. His lips brushed against her ear as he settled back into his side of the booth. He sipped his coffee patiently. “Let’s fix that. I already know the most important thing about you,” he said. “But you tell me what I’m missing. Deep dark secrets? Divorced parents? Still sleep with your teddy bear?”
“Not telling you, no, and none of your business,” she shot back. “What about you?”
He gave her the studying look again, but the gray of his eyes looked more June-warm than February-bleak. “Plenty of deep dark secrets. My parents are . . . ” He hesitated. “Well, I guess they’re probably dead. No one’s heard from them since I was little.”
“Oh—I’m sorry,” Keira said sincerely. She couldn’t imagine how awful that must be. Her own parents might be too caught up in their own falling-apart lives to notice much of hers, but at least they were there.
Walker shrugged. “It was years ago. It’s gotten easier. Not easy, but easier.” The playful twinkle returned to his eyes. “And no, I don’t sleep with a teddy bear. And no to the pajamas, too, in case that was your next question.”
Keira felt herself flush but tried to hide it by taking another drink of her very sweet tea.
“So you won’t tell me about your stuffed animals—how about whatever it is that’s hanging over you? What makes you so driven? Why so much piano? Why no dating? It’s like you’re already somewhere else.” His words were leaden with meaning.
“Exactly,” Keira said fiercely. “I don’t want to get trapped here. I don’t belong here. I’ve felt that way ever since I was a little kid. I only feel like things are right when I’m playing the piano. I don’t want to screw it up—end up married and working as a bank teller or something miserable like that.” She glanced up at him. “I know that sounds snotty and horrible. I don’t mean it that way. But I’ll go crazy if I stay in Sherwin.”
“And music’s your ticket out?” he guessed.
“I hope so,” she said fervently. “It depends on what Juilliard thinks of my audition recordings.”
“I never planned to stay here long myself. . . . ” He ran a hand through his hair, the curls snaking around his fingers. “But it’s already been two years. I finally broke down and got a job.”
“I noticed,” Keira said playfully. “Better to work at Take Note than the credit union, though, right? Speaking of which,” Keira said, “I should probably go. I haven’t practiced yet today and it’s getting late.”
Keira slid out of the booth, ignoring Walker’s disappointed expression. She was anxious to get in front of the piano.
“Sure,” he said. “You go ahead. I’ll take care of this.”
“No way!” She dug in her pocket for her cash, but Walker put a hand on her hip, stopping her.
“I want to see you again. It doesn’t have to be a date. You can ‘owe’ me the coffee then.”
She took his hand off her hip, the wanting that swirled inside her braiding itself into frustration. She tossed her money on the table and one of the pennies rolled off, bouncing against the tile floor.
“I don’t welch on a debt. Ever.”