Overture (Rain Dance, Book 1) (Rain Dance Series) (17 page)

     
Now blushing, I
started moving up and down on my heels, too happy to stay still.

     
It was almost
seven when we finished eating dinner. Ethan had to take some phone calls, so I
went ahead to take my shower. Just as he'd said, everything else I'd need to
stay over was there, down to the exact vanilla-scented shampoo I favored. He
must've taken note of the products I had back in my own bathroom. Should I have
been creeped out? Yeah, probably. But I didn't get a creep vibe from Ethan. In
fact, if anything, I just saw him as an extremely well-prepared individual.

     
Maybe it wasn't
so much as him rushing into this as it was him just knowing what he wanted. Or
was that only wishful thinking on my part?
But look at what he does for a
living. I don't think he'd be where he is if he were legitimately crazy.
Well,
regardless, it actually felt nice to have someone prepare things so thoroughly
for me. Not only did it feel nice, but I found that I didn't feel guilty about
him doing these little kinds of things.
Little
being the key word.

     
I stepped out
of the shower and dried myself. Then, taking great care, I slid my new
nightgown over my body. It felt unbelievably good against my skin. So good that
I was sure I'd forget I was even wearing it. But most importantly, I felt
secure in it.

     
After spending
a good amount of time trying to dry my hair, I finally decided to call it
quits.

     
I had meant to
go back downstairs, but I stopped mid-step as I came to the door leading to the
music room. I bit my lip, wondering if I should.

     
He said it
wouldn't bite. Still, I was extremely uneasy. The possible threat of getting
caught caused a slight fear to spread through my nerves. Shaking my head, I
quietly laughed at myself. Ethan was a kind man, this much I knew. He wouldn't
hit me for messing around on his piano.

     
I strode in
with purpose, not bothering to turn the lights on. The moon was out, which
would provide just enough light for me to be able to see once my eyes adjusted.
I sat down on the bench and flexed my fingers. Then I lowered my left thumb
onto the proper key and took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was safe
here. Three fingers on my right hand found their place, and a second later I
began 'Gymnopédie No. 1.'

     
And just as
though I were painting, time ceased to exist. It was only me and the notes. I
couldn't stop the memories from popping into my head. They came in quick, short
images, reminding me of the hurt I used to feel. My insides began to twist as
the pain began to resurface, threatening to take over. But I was stronger now.
I wouldn't let ugly memories spoil this precious reunion for me, so I blocked
them out and focused on nothing. Soon enough, my mind became blank and there
was no need to pay attention to my hands. My fingers moved on their own,
already knowing the tune. I became a bystander, enjoying the feeling - the
freedom that came with playing until, slowly, the song came to a finish.

     
"I thought
you said you didn't play," Ethan spoke quietly from behind me.

     
I turned my
head just enough to take a peek at him. He was leaning against the doorframe,
arms crossed.

     
"I don't
play, not well."

     
"That's
not what it sounds like."

     
"I can
only do simpler songs. I can't do the songs that I really want to do, so it
feels as though I can't play."

     
"Have you
tried?"

     
"Yes."

 
    
"And?"

     
I really didn't
want to talk about depressing things. "And it didn't happen. Were you
going to take a shower?"

     
I could tell he
was studying me, though I couldn't see his expression. I had my friendly face
on so I wouldn't come off as bitchy by having suddenly changed the subject. I
worried that if this kept up, he might start to dig for information.

     
"Yes,"
he answered eventually. "Will you be choosing something to watch
tonight?"

     
"You want
to watch something again?" I smiled. "I thought you hated TV."

     
He shrugged.
"I'm learning more about you by what you choose."

     
I stood up and
skipped past him, giving him a peck on the cheek on the way.

     
"There is
nothing wrong with your television..." I spoke along with the narrator
before breaking into song.

     
"I'm
starting to think you have a thing for the spooky," Ethan said after I was
finished.

     
Just hearing
him say the word 'spooky' brought a smile to my face. "I do believe it was
you, and not me, who referred to some of my work as morbid."

     
"You
aren't going to get over that, are you? It's the truth, you admitted it
yourself."

     
"Yes, I
did," I said proudly.

     
By the time the
credits started rolling, I was already starting to nod off.

     
"What time
is it?" I asked, looking around for a clock.

     
"Almost
nine-thirty."

     
"Is that
all?" I stretched and yawned. "Hey, how am I getting home tomorrow?
Are you going to be able to give me a ride or am I catching a cab?"

     
"I can
drive you home, but I have an early morning meeting. If you'd prefer to stay in
and sleep, Douglas can take you whenever you're ready to head back."

     
Somehow I began
to feel like a kid. What adult asked how they were getting home? "Is
that…I mean…Isn't that weird?"

     
"Isn't
what weird?"

     
"Well,
won't he suspect that something's going on?"

     
Ethan looked at
me oddly. "He brought my stuff over yesterday, remember?"

     
"You told
him you were with me?"

     
"No, but
he recognized the address. Why should it matter if he knows?"

     
"Why does
he…" I shook my head, not wanting to ask why he knew my address.
"Anyway, it's still weird, isn't it? It won't be the same as when he drove
me to get supplies."

     
"Douglas
doesn't work for the company, he works for me. Does he make you feel
weird?"

     
"No, not
at all."

     
"Then there's
no problem," he said in a tone that somehow made things final.

     
I sighed. The
simple action managed to trigger another big yawn. "I just don't want to
be a bother."

     
"You could
never be a bother. A tiny bump, maybe - when you refuse things like rides.
Anyway, I think it's time we get you to bed."

     
"But it's
so early," I complained.

     
"Your
words are slurring."

     
"I still
haven't kissed you for the…the
thing
yet."

     
I felt his lips
on my forehead and suddenly the room went completely dark. It took a moment for
me to register that he had turned the TV off. Before I could get up, he had
already taken hold of my body. Once I was securely in his arms, he began
carrying me upstairs.

     
"I can
walk."

     
"Don't be
a bump."

     
"Don't
trip and fall."

     
When my body
was carefully placed onto his bed, I felt as though I were floating on a
drifting cloud. The softness beneath me was unlike anything I had ever felt
before.

     
"God, this
bed feels so fucking good," I mumbled.

     
"I look
forward to hearing you say that about me." I was already half gone, but I
could still make out the smirking tone in his voice.

     
The problem
with falling asleep so early is that it usually caused me to wake up early, as
well. And not the
soon to be dawn
kind of early, but rather the
middle
of the night
kind of early. I was a night owl, after all.

     
I opened my
eyes to darkness, knowing that I had burnt off the hours of sleep I needed. I
also knew from years of experience that if I went back to sleep now, I would
wake up feeling grumpy and in a very foul mood. Ethan didn't need to bear
witness to that. But even worse was that I knew I would start dreaming. And as
safe as I felt with him sleeping next to me, the fact that it wasn't my own bed
made me feel vulnerable. It was rare that I still had any of
those
kinds
of nightmares, but I didn't want to take my chances. I looked around in search
of the time. The clock was on Ethan's side, and it read sometime after four AM
- so it actually wasn't too bad. I felt relieved. Had I woken up any earlier,
my entire day would have been ruined. I probably would have ended up passing
out at work, again.

     
I didn't want
to leave the comfort of the bed, but deciding it was for the best, I quietly
crawled out. I wanted nothing more than to stare at Ethan, but that would have
made me a creeper. Also, I didn't want to risk the chance of waking him when he
had to leave early. The man needed his beauty sleep.

     
I left the room
and made my way down the hall and down the stairs, feeling for the walls in the
dark. My stomach had eventually led me to his kitchen. Opening his fridge, I
was surprised to find actual food. Containers were piled on top of another, all
filled with various ingredients. I wondered if he had a cook. Or maybe the
housekeeper prepared it to last him the week?