her, it would’ve been easy to lean in and rest her head on his chest. Not an option. Why did she have to keep reminding herself that
she
had broken up with
him
? And for a good reason. A reason that was still very applicable, given how sore he was over losing internet access.
“Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but I like the smell of the pages and the ink. I like the weight of a book in my hands and the texture of the paper between my fingertips.”
“You’re a Luddite.”
“I have a digital camera!” she countered. She’d only had it three months and she still preferred her old-school SLR camera, but she was getting used to it. She liked being able to take as many shots as she wanted and not worry about wasting the expensive, and getting hard to find, film. “Trust me, that’s progress for me.”
The banter between them seemed pointless, but it had served a purpose. Ian had finally relaxed a little. Making fun of her was apparently a soothing activity for him. Well, whatever helped them pass the time the next few days. If he was mocking her, maybe she wouldn’t notice the full lips doing it or the way his emerald-green eyes watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
“You’re just going to read your paperback book and leave me here twiddling my thumbs?”
He looked pretty pathetic, like a lonely child. She supposed the book could wait. “Do you have games or something? Cards, maybe?”
Ian shrugged. “I have no idea. My family might have brought some games up here. I’m usually here alone, so I don’t play games aside from the ones on my iPad.”
Bree walked over to the closet by the stairs. “Let’s see what we can find. A rowdy game of Scrabble or Sorry! could help pass the time.” She opened the door and flipped on the light, which illuminated a stash of cleaning supplies and a bookshelf filled with assorted games, puzzles and crafts. “Yep, here we go. You’ve got Monopoly, Life, Clue, Sorry!, Scrabble and a couple decks of cards.”
“Pick whatever you want. I really don’t care.”
Bree reached out for one of the games and noticed a familiar shape sticking out from behind the shelf. A dusty, old acoustic guitar was propped in the corner. Bypassing the games she’d come in search of, she reached down and picked it up.
After pulling the strap over her shoulder, she made a poor attempt at strumming it. “What have we here?”
“Did you—?” He stopped speaking when he saw her come out of the closet with the guitar. “That’s not Scrabble,” he noted.
“Nope, but I found something better,” she said in a singsong voice, continuing to fumble at the strings. She had zero musical ability. She had an eye for beauty, not an ear for it. That didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate it in others. Few things had ever been as soothing to her as the sound of Ian strumming his guitar and singing to her.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could get him to play for her again? It would be amazing to hear him after all these years. Then, maybe, for a short time, she could be reminded of the man he’d been
before
. She missed that Ian.
Ian took a few steps back from her as she came closer with it. Apparently, the idea was not as intriguing to him. “I thought I threw that out,” he noted with a look of distaste.
“I don’t know much about musical instruments,” Bree said, “but I can tell this is a high-quality guitar. Don’t you dare throw it out.”
“It’s old. The same one I had in college, actually.”
“That’s like saying a Stradivarius is an old violin so it should be thrown away. Is it really the same one you used to play at the Coffee Bean?”
“Yes. Flip it over, you’ll see.”
Bree lifted it off her shoulder to examine the back. There, carved ever so carefully was “IL & BH Forever.” It was the same guitar. She ran her fingers over it, the sight of the familiar carving forming a lump in her throat. She remembered the night he’d put that there with his
she
had broken up with
him
? And for a good reason. A reason that was still very applicable, given how sore he was over losing internet access.
“Maybe I’m just old-fashioned, but I like the smell of the pages and the ink. I like the weight of a book in my hands and the texture of the paper between my fingertips.”
“You’re a Luddite.”
“I have a digital camera!” she countered. She’d only had it three months and she still preferred her old-school SLR camera, but she was getting used to it. She liked being able to take as many shots as she wanted and not worry about wasting the expensive, and getting hard to find, film. “Trust me, that’s progress for me.”
The banter between them seemed pointless, but it had served a purpose. Ian had finally relaxed a little. Making fun of her was apparently a soothing activity for him. Well, whatever helped them pass the time the next few days. If he was mocking her, maybe she wouldn’t notice the full lips doing it or the way his emerald-green eyes watched her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
“You’re just going to read your paperback book and leave me here twiddling my thumbs?”
He looked pretty pathetic, like a lonely child. She supposed the book could wait. “Do you have games or something? Cards, maybe?”
Ian shrugged. “I have no idea. My family might have brought some games up here. I’m usually here alone, so I don’t play games aside from the ones on my iPad.”
Bree walked over to the closet by the stairs. “Let’s see what we can find. A rowdy game of Scrabble or Sorry! could help pass the time.” She opened the door and flipped on the light, which illuminated a stash of cleaning supplies and a bookshelf filled with assorted games, puzzles and crafts. “Yep, here we go. You’ve got Monopoly, Life, Clue, Sorry!, Scrabble and a couple decks of cards.”
“Pick whatever you want. I really don’t care.”
Bree reached out for one of the games and noticed a familiar shape sticking out from behind the shelf. A dusty, old acoustic guitar was propped in the corner. Bypassing the games she’d come in search of, she reached down and picked it up.
After pulling the strap over her shoulder, she made a poor attempt at strumming it. “What have we here?”
“Did you—?” He stopped speaking when he saw her come out of the closet with the guitar. “That’s not Scrabble,” he noted.
“Nope, but I found something better,” she said in a singsong voice, continuing to fumble at the strings. She had zero musical ability. She had an eye for beauty, not an ear for it. That didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate it in others. Few things had ever been as soothing to her as the sound of Ian strumming his guitar and singing to her.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful if she could get him to play for her again? It would be amazing to hear him after all these years. Then, maybe, for a short time, she could be reminded of the man he’d been
before
. She missed that Ian.
Ian took a few steps back from her as she came closer with it. Apparently, the idea was not as intriguing to him. “I thought I threw that out,” he noted with a look of distaste.
“I don’t know much about musical instruments,” Bree said, “but I can tell this is a high-quality guitar. Don’t you dare throw it out.”
“It’s old. The same one I had in college, actually.”
“That’s like saying a Stradivarius is an old violin so it should be thrown away. Is it really the same one you used to play at the Coffee Bean?”
“Yes. Flip it over, you’ll see.”
Bree lifted it off her shoulder to examine the back. There, carved ever so carefully was “IL & BH Forever.” It was the same guitar. She ran her fingers over it, the sight of the familiar carving forming a lump in her throat. She remembered the night he’d put that there with his
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