Nocturne (32 page)

“Everything okay?” I asked, uninterested in what Nathan had to say apart from how it seemed to make her feel.

She waved her hand at me and grinned. “Just Nathan …”

Apparently that was supposed to communicate something.

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Karin.

“Excuse me,” I mumbled to Savannah, as if I could step away to take the call. I wish I could have. Really, I wish I didn’t have to answer it at all. “Hello?” I answered, clearing my throat.

“What the hell was that?” Karin’s voice was just a peg below hysterical.

“What was what?”

“On the show just now.”

“I—”

Karin cut me off. “You conveniently left out that you’d be playing with
Savannah Marshall
.”

“I’m failing to see what difference it makes
who
I played with …” I trailed off, having forgotten for a second that I was sitting right next to Savannah in the car. I glanced over at her and she quickly looked to the floor.

“If it makes no difference, why didn’t you tell me? You
knew
it would make a difference to me. You didn’t even tell me she was part of the damn tour!” Karin sniffed and her tears on the other side of the country brewed fresh anxiety in me.

I hadn’t told her. It was intentional and unconscious at the same time to leave Savannah’s name out of the conversation. I knew it would cause another argument with Karin, and given all we were fighting about anyway, I didn’t need to give her new material. But I grew agitated at the fact that being dishonest about Savannah said more about my feelings for
her
than my avoidance of a cross-country argument with my angry wife.

My wife.

“Karin, darling … ” Unconsciously I looked at Savannah as I spoke those words. I caught her swallowing hard before she looked out the window. It speared through my emotions, and I couldn’t piece together why. Until tonight we’d been anything but cordial to each other. Yet, here, in the car on the phone with my wife, I couldn’t help but care more about the woman sitting next to me than the one I’d pledged eternity to three thousand miles away.

“What, Gregory? What? Are you about to apologize for basically making out with another woman on television?”

“
Excuse me?
” I snapped, catching Savannah jump out of the corner of my eye.

“It was all over your faces on that stage, Gregory. Don’t
lie
to me about what’s going on between you two on the road.”

There it was. The accusation of an affair I’d tried to avoid since I first spotted Savannah one row back on our first day of rehearsal. The reason I’d been so cold to her for the last few weeks. I’d attempted to keep my distance from Savannah Marshall once, and it ended horribly for both of us. On this tour I knew I couldn’t keep my physical distance, so I built an emotional wall to keep out someone who was mattering to me more each day.

Someone who could ruin things for me. For my life.

Again.

Thankfully, the car pulled up to the hotel and our driver opened my door.

“Listen, Karin. My car just got back to the hotel. Once I get settled into the room I’ll call you back. I want to talk—”

“Don’t bother, Gregory.” With that, Karin ended the call, and I slammed my fist against the doorframe with a growl.

After mumbling an apology to our driver, and handing him twenty dollars, I rushed through the hotel doors, ignoring Savannah, trying to maneuver through the revolving door with my cello case in hand.

“Gregory!” She called after I made it into the lobby, moving rather quickly for wearing such high heels. I stopped but didn’t turn to face her until she caught up. “Gregory,” she said again, breathless as she put her hand on my shoulder.

“We can’t do this, Savannah. Not again.” I gritted my teeth as I faced her, shrugging my shoulder so she would drop her hand.

She did, scrunching up her forehead, shaking it slightly side to side. “Do what?”

“This … I … I—” I ran a hand through my hair and set it on my hip, barely able to look her in the eyes. I took a deep breath and continued. “Look, Savannah. I could very easily get hung up on you … swept up in you. Again. And, I can’t. That would just be … disastrous to my life.”

“Again,” she said pointedly. Not really a question, but I sensed she wanted a response.

“Yes, again. Five years ago we—”

“Were in love, Gregory. At least that’s what you said. That you were in love with me. Remember?” Her bottom teeth pinched her top lip before she continued. “But, if you were just swept up then … I guess … that’s that.” She crossed her arms and stared right through me.

I leaned in close, to avoid causing a scene. “Damn it, Savannah, I’m
married.
”

“I know you’re married,” she hissed back. “I also know that I can’t stop fucking thinking about you. That the anger I harbored toward you for the last five years was just wounded love. It never went away. The pain of you casting me aside on your front steps
and
the bottomless love I felt for you. None of it has gone away.”

Her voice shook as she vocalized the identical feelings I’d felt off and on over the last five years. I was in love with her.

Still. Always.

And, once again, there was nothing I could do about it. This time, it was killing me.

I panicked and said something I never should have said.

Ever.

Still whispering, I said, “I suggest, Miss Marshall, that you find someone else’s life to ruin. Mine is off limits.”

Savannah

T
he words hadn’t even finished
spilling from his lips before I landed my open palm across his cheek. He winced. I’d hit him with enough force he had to take a step backward.

Despite my refusal to cry, tears fell. He’d just told me I was a problem. A distraction that could ruin his life. I didn’t care that he looked pained, anguished even, as he said it.

He said it. I heard it. It hurt.

“Jesus
Christ
, Savannah!” Gregory kept his voice low and measured. But I could see the red finger marks appearing across his face.

“Breaking my heart in front of your best friend once wasn’t enough for you?”

I knew it wasn’t fair to call his bluff on his emotions. Not now. Not when he was married. But, Christ, when you’re in love with someone, you tell them.

You don’t make them feel like dirt.

“It was for both of us—”

I put my hand up. “We’ve rehearsed this scene before, remember? I know what comes next. I walk away.” With a trembling voice I turned on my heels, ignoring the gaping stares from passers by.

Just put one foot in front of the other, Savannah. You’ve walked away from him once before, and you can do it again. Even if it kills you.

Straightening my shoulders, I took two even steps before Gregory’s long, soft fingers tightly gripped my upper arm, stopping me in my tracks. I tried to tug it away without turning around, but in a second, I was spun around to face him. I only caught a glimpse of the fire in his eyes before his lips were on mine.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pressed one hand into the small of my back, the other hand cradling the back of my head. Our mouths were open and our tongues searching each other’s before I had a chance to fight back.

I didn’t want to fight back.

“I’m so sorry, Savannah,” his voice was husky in the milliseconds our mouths separated. “I’m sorry.”

The tears continued pouring from my eyes as I kissed back with equal force. “I’m sorry, too,” I replied.

I didn’t want to fight back. I was done fighting against my feelings for Gregory. Thoughts of Nathan’s phone call from the car, accusing me of publicly flirting with Gregory on national television, thoughts of his wife on the other side of the country—they all fell easily by the wayside as I was wrapped up in the arms of the only man I’d ever loved.

“Come with me.” The words were barely audible through his ragged breathing.

Discretion was the furthest thing from my mind as he took my hand and rushed me through the lobby toward the elevators. Everything was far from my mind. All I was doing was feeling. And it felt good. An elevator was ready right away, welcoming us inside before either of us could change our minds.

I wonder what would have happened if we’d been forced to wait.

As soon as the doors closed, Gregory pressed the
7
before taking both my hands in his, his tired eyes alive with passion I’d missed for several years. Gregory slowly glided his hand up my arm and over my shoulder before wrapping his hand around the back of my neck.

His lips were on my neck, and I threw my head back as I heard him rumble the words against my skin, “I’ve missed you, Savannah.”

The elevator doors opened and we were moving, quickly, down the hall. The rational part of my brain screamed I was making a mistake. That Gregory would only break my heart again. That he wasn’t even capable of real love, and that the one thing I’d never wanted was to be something he got on the side. That he was
married.

And yet, I kept moving with him as he unlocked the door. He kissed me again when we entered the room, swollen lips on the side of my face, near my ear, murmuring words I couldn’t understand as I ran my hands over the expanse of his back and shoulders. My lips slightly parted as I tried to catch my breath.

Without thought or volition my hands were under his jacket, yanking his black t-shirt out of his waistband and sliding up his back, my fingertips digging into his skin. Toned muscles that I’d seen move with the notes from his cello were now flexing beneath my touch.

“Gregory …” My voice was a husky whisper as I lifted his shirt.

He took a step backward and shook off his jacket. When he looked up I saw everything had changed. There was no orchestra, no tour. No classroom. No Karin.

Karin.

His wife.

The harder I tried to picture her, the fuzzier her face became in my mind. Now was the time to stop if I was going to. To slide the shoe back on that I’d just kicked off and leave the room with as much dignity as I could.

As if he sensed my hesitation, Gregory took a step forward. I placed my hands on his shoulders and we both took a deep breath. As we exhaled in unison, his hands slid down my sides and over my hips. My eyes closed as I recalled Madeline’s guest room five years ago. Dawn threatening as we had recklessly torn off our clothes and gave in. The way his muscles flexed underneath me as he held my hips. The way his arms had encircled me as he cried out my name. Watching his eyes as he told me he loved me. That’s where I ended my trip down memory lane, choosing to push aside everything that happened in the moments that had followed.

“God, Savannah,” Gregory sighed as his hands slid down my backside. Now he was looking at me the same way. With the reverence I was certain he only held for his cello.

“I ... we ...”

I started to say it. I did. I started to say
I can’t do this
, or maybe,
we shouldn’t do this
. Or maybe what I started to say was
I love you
or
we belong together.
I don’t know which. The emotion washing over me was too powerful, too confusing to reduce to a few simple words. The moment for reason passed as his lips touched mine again, as our bodies touched, as his hands ran down my back and he pulled me toward the bed.

Gregory

From the moment she slapped me, the moment I kissed her, I knew I was lost.

I stumbled through my apology because I’d been wrong to say what I said. I’d been wrong to blame her. I’d been the one to ruin my life. And I hardly thought as I grabbed her and pulled her into my arms, as I kissed her, but I
felt
. I felt so much, so much that I’d lost since the day I let her walk away.

And as I pulled her to the bed, even then, I was split, confused, my mind and emotions everywhere. It was as if I had a voice in my head, telling me
this was wrong
. But on a much bigger level it was so right, because I felt a passion for her that I’d never felt before in my life.

Not since the last time I'd had her in bed.

I closed my eyes as she dug her fingers into my back. It wasn’t the physical sensations. It’s that it was
her
. It was Savannah, the woman I loved, the woman I’d always loved, the woman I lost. And then it was too late for thought. I pulled her to the bed, laying her on her back, and she was pulling at my shirt, lifting it off of me, as my eyes and fingertips touched the delicate white skin below her breasts and our lips touched again.

My fingertips slid along the base of her breasts, just a feather touch, but neither of us could withstand the anticipation. She reached out and pulled me closer, so we were holding each other tightly, both of my arms wrapped around her as we lay on our sides, my right hand cradling the back of her neck, our lips together.

We were scrambling to make up for lost time.