One (Bar Dance) (11 page)

“Road or track?”

I thought that was sweet that he gave me options. I liked running on a track. It was better for my knees. “Track.”

“Last question before we go.” He eyed me up to see that I liked the idea of running, “Inside our outside?”

He was now leading me upstairs to my room. “Outside.” I figured that I needed the fresh air and it was a beautiful day. Starting to get warm but not unbearably so. June could be a crap shoot. Some years we hit triple digits. Some years we were barely out of snow. Usually somewhere in between. I changed and put on my favorite running shoes. They were fairly new and bright orange with green laces. They were ugly but I loved them.

“We need to stop by my place. I don’t have the right shoes here.”

This weirdly made me sad. I was still confused about him staying with me. Living with me. He had a ton of clothes and obviously his TV at my place. Shouldn’t he have his shoes there too? I kept my mouth shut other than to say. “Not a problem.”

He laughed as he started his car. “I didn’t move everything in. Just most of the important stuff.”

I did a mental catalogue of what he had moved in. Work clothes, TV and gaming system with two controllers.

Yep the important stuff
for a twenty five year old man.

Chapter Twelve

Let me just say. I am not really a runner. I do not get up three days a week and run a mile. I do not leave work and hit the gym. I dance two nights a week. I rarely miss a week but I have been known to if I have a class or overtime. So to say Rand kicked my ass was a slight understatement. Don’t get me wrong. I did enough laps to count as two miles. I just knew that I was very winded by the end of the last lap. I walked it off and then stretched out so that I didn’t cramp up. He did almost another mile on me and wasn’t nearly as winded at the end as I had been. At least my shirt was almost dry when he was done. His on the other hand, was in serious need of a good washing. Pronto. I was glad that he had driven. I wouldn’t want the smell of the two of us in my car together. If it lingered I wouldn’t have to be the one that smelled it tomorrow.

We hit the drive through on the way home. French fries are always a good way to sooth the spirit.

Rand again called his mother for dinner directions. The bacon wrapped chicken was delicious along with nuked rice. A girl could easily get used to this.

We were camped on the couch watching a really bad movie when my cell rang. It was Bray. I had no idea why he would be calling so I answered just out of curiosity. I normally didn’t answer my phone on Sunday’s unless it was one of the girls.

Truth be told there were probably less than twenty people who had my cell number. Probably forty now that I think about Rand’s family and how many there were of them.

“Hey.” I answered

“Angie says that you usually have Monday’s off. That true?” He answered as his hello.

“Last few months. It might change when school starts though.”

“Think you can come to the studio tomorrow?”

I looked towards Rand and answered his unasked question. “Bray.”

“Yeah.” I heard in my ear.

“Sorry I was answering you brother’s scowl. What, when, where, why and how.”

He chuckled. “About ten or so. I have some original stuff that I would like you to take a look at. I was brain storming and Angie said that you pick up stuff quick.”

“Only if I like it. If it bores me it never sinks in.” I sat shaking my head. “Just ask my English Lit professor.”

He laughed at me. “You actually have a guitar of your own or do you just borrow?”

“Borrow
. Angie’s has good stuff.”

“K.” He drawled.
Then he chuckled. “She does have some pretty good stuff.”

I blushed. I had walked right into that one. I was talking to a Frasier man who, if not now, would be having sex with one of my friends. “See you at ten.” I hung up

I was having sex with one of the Frasier men. Something, I might add, I have never done so quickly with any other man. Ever.

Rand had seen my blush. He had one eyebrow raised. “Deviants. Every single one of you.”

He smiled. “We aim to please.”

I fell asleep that night tired from the run. I could say that we were deviants that night but Rand seemed to know that I didn’t need that. I needed comfort. That’s what I got. He curled up around my back and put one leg through both of mine. He held me close and kept me comforted. Talk about melting a girl’s resolve. I will say that none of our running clothes hit the hamper. I may not have washed them but they went in the laundry room
so that I could. They stunk.

**

Seven fifty seven I got a text from Keiley’s phone. Call me on this number before nine.

I was wide wake sipping my second cup of coffee. I called immediately. I somehow knew that was not from Keiley herself. She would have just said, “Call when you can, or call when you wake up. Not call me on
this
number.”

He answered on the first ring. “Frasier.”

I answered in kind. “Terra.”

“I gotta punt this one. Not my area. Not my specialty. I have a friend. A good friend. I’m not giving the files to him just a rough idea of the problem.
”

I sighed in relief. “Can he fix it?”

I didn’t see Adam shrug but I heard it in his voice. “If he can’t, I think that he can find someone who can. I trust this guy. He’s taken my back more than once. More important, he’s taken the blows that come from taking my back.”

“Thank you Adam.” I whispered. I was afraid to say much more.

“It took a lot of balls to give me what you did Terra. I don’t think that it will blow back on you, or me but,” He took a breath, “I assume you are monitored when you go on the computers while you work.”

“We are.” I debated whether or not to tell him about the rest of it. I chose not to tell him right now. Maybe later if I needed to.

“Watch your back.” He said as he disconnected.

Nine forty five. I walked to Bray’s studio with a water bottle in my bag and a decaf latte in my hand. I had drank enough caffeine for the morning but not enough coffee. I knew that I was going to need the water to even out the amount of both. The door was still locked and no lights were on inside. I just couldn’t sit at home one minute longer. I leaned against the wall outside the door and plugged in my ear bud. Just one so that I could keep an eye on my surroundings. I was staring off in space seeing the dance steps in my mind to the song. It wasn’t a routine that we danced to. It was just a random song. I just saw how I would move to it if I was dancing alone. It was kind of a mind game that was frivolous. I chose not to be part of the choreography for the bar. Not that Sam and Keiley hadn’t asked me to be part of the choreography like thirty thousand times.

For me it was a
distraction and some exercise. I loved my friends and that was a good reason to see them. It gave me a reason to forget the seriousness of my job. I just didn’t love it as much as they did. I was brought out of my mental musings as a big black motorcycle pulled up on the sidewalk next to me. I knew enough to know that it wasn’t a Harley. It was too smooth for that. It had a great big something or another with a windshield. Don’t get me wrong it purred like only a motorcycle can it just didn’t have the rumble that I associated with a Harley.

Bray shut it off. He pulled off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair tagging a few snarls where the hair had not been under the helmet. He had jet black wraparound sunglasses on and a huge smile. “Got one of those for me?” He nodded to my coffee cup.

“Hell no.” I answered with a smile. “Angie know you have that?”

“Took her out on the Wing last night. She giggled the whole way.”

I held my smile. “Wing?”

“Honda Gold
wing. Best touring bike possible.”

I rolled my eyes. The only thing that I knew about motorcycles is that they had two wheels. I preferred four under me. “Whatever.” I answered still with a smile on my face.

Bray unlocked the door and shut off the alarm while turning on a light down the hall. He reset the alarm and locked the door. He pointed down the hall. “Second door on the left.”

I walked to where he sent me. It was locked when I tried to open it. He met up with me and opened the door. “My office. The only room I keep locked. It has my coffee stash.”

I had to laugh at that.

He turned on the light and walked to his coffee maker. It was one of those machines that cost and obscene amount of money and each individual pack that made
one cup cost as much as a small can of coffee at the store. I scowled at him.

He shrugged.
He sat at his desk, with his cup of coffee, “I have a few songs that I have written.” He jumped right in. “I haven’t shared them or sold them. Never found the right voice to go with what I heard in my head. Until I saw you the other day.”

“So you want me to si
ng them? Why? Can’t you sell them and make an obscene amount of money?” I didn’t know for sure but I remember hearing that song writing can be as or more lucrative than recording.

I could see the restraint he was using. “Have you ever written in a journal or a letter to someone that was so personal that sharing it was impossible?”

I kind of understood what he was asking so I nodded. I also told him. “I understand but I am an open book.” I smirked, “If I fart I often announce it.” Then I sobered. “I also never share if a patient does so I know what you are saying.”

Bray nodded at me.
“These songs are like your patients. I have held them secret for a long time. I’m getting into my thirties. Still being single has either made me sappy or overly creative. I’ve just not wanted to share them. Until now.”

“If you want me to I can give it a shot.” I still had no idea where he was really headed.

He stood with his cup and we walked to the studio that we used before.

“Don’t you have like students or something that are going to need this?”

“Nah. I don’t do much teaching anymore. I hire that out or rent this room. I produce some, not a lot but this room is mostly just for me. I do a lot of editing and re-mix in here.”

Since what he just said meant nearly nothing to me I just let it slide in one ear and back out the other. I had enough stuff to try to remember with my school and job that I didn’t really need to learn too much about his.
He unlocked a cabinet and pulled out a couple of file folders. He handed them to me. “Just read the first page of lyrics on a few of these. If anything catches your attention let me know.”

I looked around the room and chose the most comfortable looking chair that I saw and sat in it.
I opened up the top file and started reading while Bray walked to a panel and turned it on. He moved a few slide bars and turned some dials before I opened the top one and started reading. On the fifth one I was in love with the words. I set that one aside and kept going. There had to be at least twenty songs that he was sharing. I sorted them from my most favorite on top to my least favorite on bottom. That was saying a lot because there was only tiny steps between my favorite to least. There were two that I really didn’t much care for so I just left them on the chair next to me. I pointed to them. “You may have to convince me to like those.”

He was standing about eight feet away from me. He came over, grabbed the two that I had set aside and moved them to a shelving unit on the far wall. “Fair enough. What about the rest?”

“Most liked on top. I can’t read music so all I have is the words to go by.”

He sat on a chair that was facing me but not too close to make me uncomfortable. He pulled the top one open and smiled. “This one is my favorite too.” He held out a sheet of paper to me and I went and got it since he now had a stand in front of him with his guitar on his lap.
He strummed and turned one of the knobs to adjust a string. He started playing and sang along with it. By the time that he was done I felt like I had won the lottery. It was fast and fun. It didn’t fit in any top forty play list on the popular radio stations but I can’t think of one of them that wouldn’t give it at least a shot. That included county or pop. When he was done he looked at me. With the smile that I was sporting along with me sitting at the edge of my chair he knew he had me.

“Think you can follow along?”

I shook my head no. “Not at that pace. If you can slow it down by about a quarter for my first time through, I can try.”

He nodded and started playing at a more sedate speed. He stopped after the first line. “More?”

I held up my finger and thumb. “Just a tad more.”

He started playing and singing far more quietly than the first time. By the second line I was up on my feet but singing along with him. I automatically changed a few words to make it more of a female perspective. Nothing dramatic
but I did it without thinking much of it. He picked up a pen and made a few marks on the paper. “One more time?”

We did it twice more with him making marks after each one. He held out his paper. “Trade me.”

He had written the words down that I had changed. He started playing again and I started singing all by myself. We were back to the original pace.”

I didn’t think about filtering what came out of my mouth. “I like it just a tad slower. Not a lot
, just a touch. It feels,” I searched for the right word, “Pushed, raced at the original speed. Almost like you are just trying to get it over and done with.”

He nodded and made more notes on the paper. “Last time for this one.”

He started playing and by this time I was moving around as I sang. It felt wrong to just stay statuesque to this song. It was nearly addictive. We finished and I started clapping around the paper. “That was fun.” I walked the papers to him. He put them in the file and chose the next one. Two songs later my stomach gave a rumble that Bray heard. I looked up at the clock and was surprised to find it almost one-thirty. Three songs and a little over four hours.

He was chuckling. “I think that
your stomach was loud enough to be recorded.”

I smiled.
I couldn’t think of a time when I had done something like this. Something just for the fun of it.

He took me to get another burger then we went back to the studio.