since then. I think he’s waiting for some cue from me, or maybe he’s giving me space until I after the concert. It doesn’t matter, though. That memory is like a living, breathing thing between us. I read my own dark fantasies into his eyes when they linger too long on my neck or lips, and I know he does the same when I shiver whenever he touches my shoulder. Neither of us can forget what happened even if we wanted to; no matter what happens next, there’s no going back to the way things were.
My shadow lover hasn’t come back. He hasn’t even written. I’d like to say that I’ve stopped checking my mailbox every morning, but I haven’t. I don’t know what to think about that, either.
I pack up my books near my locker and try to quiet my nerves. Dolly has been teaching me these breathing exercises she does right before she goes out on stage. Unfortunately they aren’t working…though that could be because I’ve been really self-conscious about doing it ever since Cassie said it made me look like a fish.
“Hey.”
I freeze up and dart around at the sound of David’s voice. “Hey,” I squeak, then wonder why my voice sounds so weird until I realize I’m doing a fish face.
David gives me the kind of grin that I’ve come to know means he’s silently laughing inside.
“You’re so mean,” I tell him.
“I am?”
“Yeah. You’re laughing at me.”
“I’m not laughing,” he says. Unfortunately, stringing that many words together does make him chuckle at the end.
“See?”
“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “I knew how cute you were was gonna get me in trouble.”
I don’t have a response for that.
David catches my hand. “I wish I was going with you tonight.”
I squeeze his hand. “Me too.”
“You sure they won’t let you take a roadie?”
I cock my head to the side, grinning. “Just for a cello?”
“Hey, these hands are precious,” he whispers, bringing my knuckles to his lips.
I shiver everywhere. The softness of his lips remind me of the way he kissed, and…Oh God I’m making fish face again!
“Is something wrong?”
Great. Fish face strikes again. “No, I’m just worried about tonight.”
“You’re going to do great.”
“I hope so.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. “I know so. What you should really be worried about is your Music Theory final. I think I’m finally going to score higher than you.”
“Yeah right,” I say haughtily, then amend, “but even if you do, it’s only because I’ve been too busy to study as thoroughly as I should.”
He puts his hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh Laura, you’re not even going to let me enjoy beating you this one time?”
“You haven’t beat me yet!”
“But I have a chance.”
“Only because I’m super busy, so does that even count as you really beating me?”
He laughs. “You’re so cruel.”
“No I’m not! I would be cruel if I still beat you on that final despite my hectic schedule and decided to rub in the fact that I won.”
He sighs and stops laughing. “You’re going to do that, aren’t you?”
I can’t help but grin. “Hey, only if I beat you, which I probably won’t because you’re studying so hard, right?”
“You know, I am studying pretty hard. Maybe you shouldn’t be so confident.”
“Really? Want to bet?”
My heart skips a beat. His eyes fill with heat. “If I win, I’ll take you out somewhere to celebrate,” he says.
I know I should say something, but my words fail me. I’m instantly transported back into that moment. I remember how large he was in my hand, the feeling of his skin gathering beneath my palm as I gripped him and pulled up. I remember the vow he somehow kept: I’ll only kiss you . And I remember how deep a kiss can be. How a single kiss can shatter you. The reverent look in his eyes as he looked up at me, between my legs, tongue gently exploring the most sensitive areas of my body.
He steps closer. I step back. “Okay,” I whisper,
My shadow lover hasn’t come back. He hasn’t even written. I’d like to say that I’ve stopped checking my mailbox every morning, but I haven’t. I don’t know what to think about that, either.
I pack up my books near my locker and try to quiet my nerves. Dolly has been teaching me these breathing exercises she does right before she goes out on stage. Unfortunately they aren’t working…though that could be because I’ve been really self-conscious about doing it ever since Cassie said it made me look like a fish.
“Hey.”
I freeze up and dart around at the sound of David’s voice. “Hey,” I squeak, then wonder why my voice sounds so weird until I realize I’m doing a fish face.
David gives me the kind of grin that I’ve come to know means he’s silently laughing inside.
“You’re so mean,” I tell him.
“I am?”
“Yeah. You’re laughing at me.”
“I’m not laughing,” he says. Unfortunately, stringing that many words together does make him chuckle at the end.
“See?”
“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath. “I knew how cute you were was gonna get me in trouble.”
I don’t have a response for that.
David catches my hand. “I wish I was going with you tonight.”
I squeeze his hand. “Me too.”
“You sure they won’t let you take a roadie?”
I cock my head to the side, grinning. “Just for a cello?”
“Hey, these hands are precious,” he whispers, bringing my knuckles to his lips.
I shiver everywhere. The softness of his lips remind me of the way he kissed, and…Oh God I’m making fish face again!
“Is something wrong?”
Great. Fish face strikes again. “No, I’m just worried about tonight.”
“You’re going to do great.”
“I hope so.”
He gives my hand a squeeze. “I know so. What you should really be worried about is your Music Theory final. I think I’m finally going to score higher than you.”
“Yeah right,” I say haughtily, then amend, “but even if you do, it’s only because I’ve been too busy to study as thoroughly as I should.”
He puts his hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh Laura, you’re not even going to let me enjoy beating you this one time?”
“You haven’t beat me yet!”
“But I have a chance.”
“Only because I’m super busy, so does that even count as you really beating me?”
He laughs. “You’re so cruel.”
“No I’m not! I would be cruel if I still beat you on that final despite my hectic schedule and decided to rub in the fact that I won.”
He sighs and stops laughing. “You’re going to do that, aren’t you?”
I can’t help but grin. “Hey, only if I beat you, which I probably won’t because you’re studying so hard, right?”
“You know, I am studying pretty hard. Maybe you shouldn’t be so confident.”
“Really? Want to bet?”
My heart skips a beat. His eyes fill with heat. “If I win, I’ll take you out somewhere to celebrate,” he says.
I know I should say something, but my words fail me. I’m instantly transported back into that moment. I remember how large he was in my hand, the feeling of his skin gathering beneath my palm as I gripped him and pulled up. I remember the vow he somehow kept: I’ll only kiss you . And I remember how deep a kiss can be. How a single kiss can shatter you. The reverent look in his eyes as he looked up at me, between my legs, tongue gently exploring the most sensitive areas of my body.
He steps closer. I step back. “Okay,” I whisper,
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