Tyson
teased.
Grinning, I watched him tap away with one hand on
the piano. He wore a black sweater which rolled over his wide shoulders and
strong chest. His black jeans fell a bit long on his tall frame and just over
his bare feet. His dark hair looked damp and he smelled so clean I had an urge
to run my fingers over his skin.
“I almost forgot how beautifully you play,” I said
after regaining access to my brain.
Tyson nodded and his second hand joined the first
to create music, yet his mind wasn’t on the piano.
“Have you ever been to an opera?”
“No.”
“There’s a performance of Otella at the Riser Performance Center next week. It is a fine opera and I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”
“I’ll ask Gretchen for money so I can go.”
“Or you could accompany me? My sisters have no
patience for the arts and my mother has no patience for traveling in town after
dark.”
“It sounds fun.”
“You would go with me then?” he asked, watching me
with those dark eyes lined with thick lashes.
“Yes.”
Taking my hand and holding it to his clean-shaven
face, Tyson stared into my eyes with such a serious expression. “Promise you
will go with me next week.”
So mesmerized by his eyes and the music, I hadn’t
really understood his sudden need to take me to the opera. I thought Lacey might
have told him about Flynn and he was jealous, but that wasn’t like Tyson. He
knew I dated plenty of guys and he never seemed even a hint bothered by this
fact. No, he wasn’t claiming me, but saving me. If I was alive for the opera, I
would have survived longer than I intended. While I doubted Lacey told him
about my plans, he suspected nonetheless.
“Promise,” he whispered.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Of course you can,” he said tenderly, my hand
still pressed against his cheek. “You just decide you want to see the opera and
you choose to see it. Many people live their whole lives without seeing Otella.
You shouldn’t be one of them.”
“My mother never saw it,” I said, teary-eyed
because I wanted to say yes so badly. “I can’t be sure I can go.”
“Please,” he whispered, his face pained. “Nothing
matters more than sharing one of my favorite operas with you. Give me this one
thing so I can die happy.”
Thinking of Tyson gone from the world, I instantly
knew I had to die, yet I said the words anyway. “I promise.”
Tyson smiled, believing my lie. He was a Zandi and
their blood tended to be spilt if a Davison wasn’t sacrificed. The family was
always warm towards me, even though I knew they were more aware than they let
on about the connection between Assad’s actions and Penny’s failed suicide.
They deserved to be safe, as did the rest of the Lily Falls inhabitants from
kooky Gretchen to the mean old man who threw rocks at kids who passed his
house. They were part of this place in a way I wasn’t. I just existed to
sacrifice myself to the town.
“It’s a lovely opera.”
Sensing he was having second thoughts over
trusting my promise, I asked, “What should I wear?”
“Anything will do. It’s about the music, not what
the audience wears. Show up in your pajamas if you wish.”
My body flushing with heat, I knew Tyson mentioned
pajamas just to remind me of the perfect evening we shared. There was no way
for him to know how much I loved those cashmere pjs, yet he must understand how
they were the nicest thing anyone ever bought me.
Despite Tyson’s beauty and my sometimes pathological
need for him, I had Flynn now. Pulling away my hand, I sighed quietly while
squirming a few inches away from him. Tyson’s relaxed expression shifted and I
sensed he was suspicious.
“What’s wrong, Bluebell?” he asked, using both
hands to play now.
“I met this guy and I just wonder if he’ll be okay
with me, you know, touching you and going to the opera and stuff?”
“We are friends and your possessive boyfriend will
need to accept how you are not his pet.”
My gaze met
teased.
Grinning, I watched him tap away with one hand on
the piano. He wore a black sweater which rolled over his wide shoulders and
strong chest. His black jeans fell a bit long on his tall frame and just over
his bare feet. His dark hair looked damp and he smelled so clean I had an urge
to run my fingers over his skin.
“I almost forgot how beautifully you play,” I said
after regaining access to my brain.
Tyson nodded and his second hand joined the first
to create music, yet his mind wasn’t on the piano.
“Have you ever been to an opera?”
“No.”
“There’s a performance of Otella at the Riser Performance Center next week. It is a fine opera and I’m sure you’d enjoy it.”
“I’ll ask Gretchen for money so I can go.”
“Or you could accompany me? My sisters have no
patience for the arts and my mother has no patience for traveling in town after
dark.”
“It sounds fun.”
“You would go with me then?” he asked, watching me
with those dark eyes lined with thick lashes.
“Yes.”
Taking my hand and holding it to his clean-shaven
face, Tyson stared into my eyes with such a serious expression. “Promise you
will go with me next week.”
So mesmerized by his eyes and the music, I hadn’t
really understood his sudden need to take me to the opera. I thought Lacey might
have told him about Flynn and he was jealous, but that wasn’t like Tyson. He
knew I dated plenty of guys and he never seemed even a hint bothered by this
fact. No, he wasn’t claiming me, but saving me. If I was alive for the opera, I
would have survived longer than I intended. While I doubted Lacey told him
about my plans, he suspected nonetheless.
“Promise,” he whispered.
“I don’t know if I can.”
“Of course you can,” he said tenderly, my hand
still pressed against his cheek. “You just decide you want to see the opera and
you choose to see it. Many people live their whole lives without seeing Otella.
You shouldn’t be one of them.”
“My mother never saw it,” I said, teary-eyed
because I wanted to say yes so badly. “I can’t be sure I can go.”
“Please,” he whispered, his face pained. “Nothing
matters more than sharing one of my favorite operas with you. Give me this one
thing so I can die happy.”
Thinking of Tyson gone from the world, I instantly
knew I had to die, yet I said the words anyway. “I promise.”
Tyson smiled, believing my lie. He was a Zandi and
their blood tended to be spilt if a Davison wasn’t sacrificed. The family was
always warm towards me, even though I knew they were more aware than they let
on about the connection between Assad’s actions and Penny’s failed suicide.
They deserved to be safe, as did the rest of the Lily Falls inhabitants from
kooky Gretchen to the mean old man who threw rocks at kids who passed his
house. They were part of this place in a way I wasn’t. I just existed to
sacrifice myself to the town.
“It’s a lovely opera.”
Sensing he was having second thoughts over
trusting my promise, I asked, “What should I wear?”
“Anything will do. It’s about the music, not what
the audience wears. Show up in your pajamas if you wish.”
My body flushing with heat, I knew Tyson mentioned
pajamas just to remind me of the perfect evening we shared. There was no way
for him to know how much I loved those cashmere pjs, yet he must understand how
they were the nicest thing anyone ever bought me.
Despite Tyson’s beauty and my sometimes pathological
need for him, I had Flynn now. Pulling away my hand, I sighed quietly while
squirming a few inches away from him. Tyson’s relaxed expression shifted and I
sensed he was suspicious.
“What’s wrong, Bluebell?” he asked, using both
hands to play now.
“I met this guy and I just wonder if he’ll be okay
with me, you know, touching you and going to the opera and stuff?”
“We are friends and your possessive boyfriend will
need to accept how you are not his pet.”
My gaze met
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