My Lucky Days: A Novel (23 page)

Looking over his shoulder, he smiled. “Got any requests, Katie?”

“You can play anything?”

“What! You haven’t forced her to play Stump Me yet?” Callie rolled her eyes as she looked in my direction. “Don’t ever play that with him. And don’t place any bets on it either. You will never win and you might end up paying for an entire trip to Padre.”

“It was your idea to go all-in with a Christina Aguilera song.” Lucky couldn’t contain his laughter. His whole body shook as he tried to talk. “Best . . . best spring br-break I ever had though.”

Everyone was talking at once and laughing. I had trouble hearing their words as Colt harassed him about his knowledge of pop music while Callie shouted, over and over. “Dead fish. You stunk like dead fish. Dead fish. In my car.”

I watched the room radiate around the guy. I loved this. I loved all of them. I smiled, seeing Mia pull on his arm, asking Lucky to play
Let It Go
from
Frozen
.

“Hey, hey. I think we have our first request.”

And then his fingers moved over the keys. The chaos of the room disappeared into the sound of his beautiful notes. There was not any sheet music as he played the elaborate intro to the Disney song. I guess he really did play by ear.

“
Noooo
.” Zach jumped up. “Not that one. It’s not even a Christmas song.”

“You get next pick,” Lucky yelled over his shoulder.

I listened as he played, and Mia sang every single word to the song, including the high notes, which came out a bit screechy. Once the song was over, Lucky switched to Zach’s pick—a rowdy, saloon-style rendition of
Rocking around the Christmas Tree
. His mom suggested
Away in the Manger
followed by
Joy to the World
. Callie and Colt sang
O Holy Night
as a duet. Their voices were beautiful as they harmonized the carol.

Lucky played several more before doing a solo performance of
Carol of the Bells
. His fingers moved lightning quick over the keys. I watched in complete fascination. Colleen eventually turned off all the lights except for the white crystal bulbs on the tree, and we sang
Silent Night.
As the evening came to an end, I turned my head a little out of view as a single tear fell down my cheek—a whimsical, beautiful, happy tear.

I
woke up, slowly and softly, just like I did every morning in the pool house. I loved those first few moments next to him. The way his feet were sometimes touching mine. The way his arm was draped over me. The way his hair spread out over his pillow as he slept.

I rolled over, expecting to see his sweet face, but the other side of the bed was empty. Sitting up, I saw the bedroom door was closed as muffled sounds came from the living area. I picked his T-shirt up off the floor and slipped it over my head.

I felt the ironic smile on my cheeks. I would never wear something of my own that had been lying on the floor. But Lucky’s clothes didn’t bother me. They smelled too much like his scent to ever be considered dirty.

I opened the door, peering into the living room. He was sitting on the floor in only his boxers with a pencil between his lips and his guitar in his arms. The pick went across the strings again as he hummed the notes. Pausing, he scribbled something down on a sheet of paper that was sitting next to a half-eaten piece of apple pie.

Lucky always had this intense expression whenever he was trying to write a song. It made little creases between his eyebrows. I loved it. I could stand there for hours, observing this whole process.

He eventually looked up, seeing me in the doorway. Taking the pencil from his lips, Lucky grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” I smiled as I walked across the carpet feeling the warmth of the fire on my bare legs. “You are working pretty seriously on a holiday.”

“Songwriters don’t really get vacations. They have to follow the wave of inspiration. Holidays. Middle of the night. Driving down the road. I once wrote an entire song in an Applebee’s parking lot at one in the morning as I was getting back into town from an eight-hour drive.”

He moved the guitar, letting me sit in his lap. His arm went around my waist, pulling me back against his bare chest. “I like your choice of clothes this morning.”

“Do you?” I laughed.

His lips pressed against my neck. “Yes.”

“So what are you working on?”

Lucky moved the guitar around in front of us. He placed the pick in my fingers. “Here, I’ll show you. Just pull it down softly over the strings, and I’ll do the rest.”

“So you have decided I can touch it?”

His nose buried deep in my hair as he whispered next to my ear. “You’ve let me come inside you about fifty times. I think you can touch my guitar.”

I felt the deep crimson spread up my neck. Holding onto the pick, I touched the strings. The sound came out quietly in the room.

“That’s it,” he said next to my cheek. He took my right hand, moving it a little faster against the strings as he changed the chords.

I started laughing. “This is not what you were writing. You’re playing an Alabama song.”

“She learns so well.” He kissed my cheek as he continued to sing the words to
Dixieland Delight
.

“Come on. I really do want to hear your new song.”

He stopped singing. “Okay. I’ve been working on it awhile now. You’ve heard pieces of it. But I finally finished the words this week. And I’m trying to sort out the notes.”

“It’s okay if it’s rough.”

“You do like it rough.”

“Stop!” I giggled as his lips found their way onto my neck. “Just play the song.”

“I am. But I want you to know, I really was going to play it for you today. That’s why I was trying to finish it before you woke up.”

“Okay.”

He took the pick from my fingers and started strumming slowly across the strings. The notes came out soft and then his voice came out deep, sending a warm rush through my body.

A thousand minutes may pass.

And a hundred thoughts may come.

But all of those disappear.

When I’m sittin’ in the sun.

Starin’ into your green eyes.

Watchin’ them change with your smile.

Wantin’ to kiss your lips.

’Cause I need to taste them for a while.

A glimpse of your smile.

Won’t ever be enough.

’Cause my heart keeps telling me.

I need more of this stuff.

Watchin’ you as the moonlight shines.

I keep askin’ myself,

Could this girl really be mine?

So I pull you in close, kissin’ you softly.

And then your hands are in my hair.

My lips are on your skin.

I get lost in the feel of your body

As you let me touch you again.

A glimpse of your smile.

Won’t ever be enough.

’Cause my heart keeps telling me.

I need more of this stuff.

And even when the sky is full of snow.

And the ground is nothin’ but ice.

I feel the beat of your heart.

And the warmth inside.

I crave the taste of your lips.

The way your body moves against my skin.

And the way you let go as you close your eyes.

And your heart lets me in.

A glimpse of your smile.

Won’t ever be enough.

’Cause my heart keeps tellin’ me.

I’ve fallen in love.

My mind scrambled to process the words. That last line haunted me as I tried to figure out if it was just another hook in a song or his true feelings. And then Lucky sang the last verse again without the music. His lips were close to my cheek and his voice came out with a velvet softness.

Lucky moved the guitar out of the way as I twisted around in his lap. I needed to see his face. I needed to look into his eyes. They were completely serious. No humor or laughter.

“Do you love me, Katie?” he whispered.

A tear fell down my cheek. I wasn’t sure why it suddenly surfaced in this moment. But the emotions inside came with a force I couldn’t control. I felt everything. I felt his words. I felt his heart as he put it out there for me to take.

“Yes,” I whispered. “I love you. And I have for a while.”

His lips brushed against mine. “Good, because I love you. Deeply and madly. I love you in a way that can’t be captured in music. And I will probably spend the rest of my life trying. ’Cause you’re the only girl I ever want to be in here.”

He took my hand, placing it on his bare chest to where his heart was beating rapidly under his skin. “I think there was only one slot in here. And it was meant for you.”

I smiled, feeling another tear fall down my cheek. “I think you might have that song after all.”

“Maybe,” he whispered, but that was the last word I heard before his lips captured mine and his hands slid under my T-shirt.

I would never forget that Christmas morning. I would never forget the exact moment Lucky said he loved me. The room smelled of firewood and leftover apple pie. And my heart was full with the possibilities of our future.

L
ucky left after New Year’s. I drove him to the airport and he flew to Nashville for a few days before the first show in Asheville, North Carolina. They were traveling in a bus. That alone made me realize this tour was a bigger deal than I had believed in the beginning.

He said it was an old bus that smelled like gym socks and jock straps. But it was still a bus. And it was devoted to him and his band. They were scheduled to play small venues in big cities, big stages in hole-in-the-wall towns, some music festivals, a few fairs, and even one amusement park somewhere in Georgia.

I was happy for him. I really was. But it was tough, maybe a little more than I expected. I tried to feel comfortable with his absence. But I don’t think a person ever got used to loving someone who was always away.

We talked most nights. Sometimes late in the early-morning hours after a show. When I started student teaching, those late hours became increasingly difficult for me to maintain and still function the next day. So we did our best to talk in the sliver of time after I got off work and before his performance.

I was depressed some days and our house had never been cleaner. But even a mop and Windex couldn’t fix my situation. I wondered what he was doing. I had a calendar of his travel schedule. Sometimes I just stared at it, hoping the days would pass quicker.

Peyton asked if I was worried about him being away from me. Girls were everywhere. And a guy like him wouldn’t even have to try. My roommate didn’t understand my actual frustration. I wasn’t concerned about him cheating on me. I trusted him. As Lucky said, he’d never hurt me on purpose.

No, my problem wasn’t fear. It was my loneliness. I knew how to cope. How to manage. I knew how to exist. But this was different than in the past. I felt a loss inside me, deeper than anything I had ever experienced in my life. I had never loved someone the way I loved Lucky.

I missed his smile. I missed his laugh. I missed those December days. This guy had come into my life and turned it upside down. And I missed the way he made me feel. The way I acted with him. I felt different in his presence. I felt like I could do or say anything, and it was fine. I loved that feeling.

Student teaching was the piece that saved me. My mind was focused on lessons, grading papers, and fun activities for the kids. I absolutely loved my class. Their sweet little faces melted right into my heart.

I made sure I got to know each and every one of them. On the first day that I was their official teacher, I had the students tell me their names and favorite stories. And then I went to the store and bought a copy of those books.

Each day, I read a favorite story during class, letting that particular student sit in a special chair as the king or queen for the afternoon. They loved it, and I was excited for them. Turns out, it was relatively easy to make a six-year-old feel important at school. And I wanted to keep doing it.