Suspended somewhere between earth and sky.
“And I find myself when I’m with you.”
A rumble echoed in his chest. “You know that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“I don’t believe that’s true. I think you and me…we were supposed to happen all along.”
I felt his sigh against my head. But I also felt his smile.
He pressed a kiss there. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. I bet you’re starving.”
Zee was right. I was starving. I sat on the island in his kitchen with my legs swinging over the edge, wearing one of his tees and my underwear. This was all while I watched the man cooking me dinner, wearing only his underwear.
I felt dazed. Still trying to come down from that high. And seeing him this way wasn’t helping. Not at all.
I wrung my hands, the memories of what we’d just done heating my cheeks and pooling like warmth in my belly. How was it possible to feel so intensely satisfied and desperate for more at the same time?
“That smells so good.”
He stirred the creation he was whipping up in the skillet as he glanced back at me.
“Garlic and butter. You can’t really go wrong with that. And by can’t go wrong, I mean this is about the simplest dish of pasta you’re ever going to eat. Don’t get too excited over there. It was kind of a mandatory thing back in the days of barely scrimping by. Easy and cheap.”
I found myself shaking my head.
“What?” he asked, not even fighting that grin that moved through me like a caress.
My curiosity got the better of me. “What is that like…going from struggling to get by to having everything?”
He grunted and dumped the box of spaghetti into the boiling water. “Don’t have everything, Alexis. Not even close.”
“You know that’s not what I meant…what I mean is the success. How does it feel after you guys worked so hard for it? I have to imagine that’s incredible.”
Spinning around, he leaned his back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “It is incredible. The guys…they’ve worked for it for so long. Dreamed about it since they were kids back in middle and high school. They made a commitment and didn’t stop until it happened.”
Creases pulled at the corners of my eyes. “And you?”
On a sigh, he turned away to stir the pasta and added a can of sauce to the sauté in the skillet. His explanation was filled with caution. “Playing with the guys is my home. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“But do you love it?” There I was, pushing again. I didn’t know how to stop when I was around him.
He surprised me by smiling over at me as he walked toward the massive fridge on the other end of the kitchen. “You are just full of questions, aren’t you, Alexis Kensington?”
I fisted the collar of his tee that I was wearing, brought it up over my mouth and to my nose, fighting a rush of modesty that flushed across my skin and mixed with the swell of giddiness. “That’s just me, Zachary Kennedy. If you like me enough, you’ll get used to it.”
He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he set one hand on the freezer door and opened the refrigerator with the other. “Guess I’m gonna have to get used to it then, huh?”
That giddiness bloomed. “I think that would be a good idea.”
“You want something to drink?” he mumbled as he rummaged around inside.
“Do you have white?”
He peeked back at me. “Wine?”
I was suddenly unsure. “Yeah.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. No wine. I’ve got soda, water, and just about every juice known to man. Pick your poison.”
It kind of struck me then, and I remembered all the guys and girls had shared a couple bottles of wine that night we’d been at Ash’s house. I’d had a couple glasses myself. Zee had refrained.
Regret tightened against my chest as realization took hold. “I’m sorry… You don’t drink, do you?”
Another grunt. “Not really. Definitely don’t keep it in my house. Though, there is kind of this tradition—like a pact that goes way back—with the band. Everyone does a shot together either before or after the show. I partake in that. That’s about it.”
Uneasiness had me shifting on the counter. “Is it okay if I ask why?”
He grinned over at me. “Doubt I could stop you.”
“I don’t mean to pry…I just…I want to know you.”
Zee crossed to me, his hand on my face, thumb brushing the curve of my cheek. Even with that simple connection, I could feel a spark.
“I know you do, Alexis. You don’t have to apologize for that. And you’re right. I don’t drink. The reason I don’t is because it’s just not worth the risk. Horrible choices and mistakes are made when we aren’t in our right minds, and I’m not willing to ever put myself in that position again.”
Again.
Awareness hung in the air.
He cleared his throat and pulled away, moving back over to the stove where he stirred the pot and the sauce.
“A Coke would be nice,” I said quietly, letting him know I was letting him off the hook. That I respected him and his privacy.
The tension in his shoulders eased. “A Coke it is.”
He filled a glass with ice, grabbed a soda, and set it on the island next to me before he went back to finishing our dinner. He moved to the sink, dumped the noodles into a colander, and piled them on our plates.
“So…piano…when did you learn?”
He laughed outright. “More questions?”
I raked my teeth over my lip, trying to hold back the giggle that wanted free. “Oh, come on, that’s an easy one.”
He was back at the stove, covering the noodles in sauce when he answered. “I kind of always knew.”
He gestured with his chin to the piano where he’d been teaching me. “That was my grandma’s. She said she found me when I was three, sitting on the bench, tinkering out the theme song to a cartoon I’d been watching while she babysat me. The rest was kind of history.”
“What kind of history?”
He glanced to the floor, hands on his hips, contemplating, before he looked up to answer. “Lessons. Tons of them. Playing night and day. Then I was accepted into this pretty prestigious music school when I was sixteen. Playing that piano was pretty much my life.”
“What? Wow…” It was so easy to say, but I knew to him it was more. That there was so much wrapped up in his answer. That it was part of that war that burned through him when he sat in front of that piano. The reason he no longer played.
“So, what did you see coming from it? From the school?”
He leaned back on the counter, shrugging his shoulders as if it didn’t mean anything. “I don’t know, maybe I’d imagined moving to New York. Writing for plays. Or maybe I would’ve stayed here and composed for movies. Guess I imagined being a part of a feeling that could be brought to life in people’s imaginations and eyes.”
Do you feel it?
That severity rippled through me, just as strong as that day. “And you gave it up…to take your brother’s place.”