Page 206 of Perfect Pitch

“Give me one good reason why?” Charlie says softly.

“You did such a great job watching our girl,” Uncle Ethan snarls as he deposits himself right into the fray.

I stagger back as everyone begins shouting, accusing one another of forgetting about my hurt when they’re forgetting the pain they’re causing me right now. Unable to handle the oversaturated emotions, I stagger away, heading to the only place I feel safe.

Back to my music.

This time, I lock the door when I get into the soundproofed room. Snatching up my headset, I pick up where I left off, “Tout est parti en vrille.”

Everything’s gone to hell.

“Appropriate.” That’s when I bury my head in my hands and let loose all the emotions bottled up inside me. Ones I thought I’d processed in the hospital. Then I saw Mitch and they all came rushing back.

I cry out, “It’s bad enough I live with this, why should I share the pain?”

Strong hands move my headset gently away from my ears. Mitch kneels in front of me, eyes probing. I feel the warmth of his hands through my shirt, heating my skin when I’ve felt nothing but cold other than when I’ve woken up next to him. “Do you want to talk about what Charlie gave you?”

I fervently shake my head in denial. Still, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He brushes his lips against mine. “We have to stop saying we’re sorry. Neither of us meant to hurt the other, did we?”

My fingers tremble when I touch my lips after the gentle caress. “You’re right.”

He smiles at me lazily. “You should get used to saying that. You’ll be saying it a lot.”

My brows wing skyward. “Excuse me?”

Mitch rises on his knees, while lowering my chair as far as it will go. “You’re going to smile again.” He presses a kiss to my chin. “You’re going to laugh.” He presses a kiss to my cheek. “Sing.” One to my forehead. “Hope” One to my other cheek. Then he stares deeply into my eyes. “And we’re going to love. I promise you, when this is over, we’re going to find our way back to love, Beats.”

Hearing his nickname for me causes my heart to tremble. “Mitch, there’s something you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

I hold his gaze when I say, “I desperately wanted you with me.”

His fingers squeeze. “And I swear to you, I’ll never let you go again.”

“Do you promise?”

He kisses each of my fingers before laying them against his tattoo. “I swear.”

I open my mouth to respond when I hear a key in the lock. I frown in confusion. “How did you get in here?”

His smile is boyish, charming. I lean forward. He does the same until our foreheads are almost touching.

When I inhale his cologne, it seals up some of the smaller cracks in my heart. I whisper, “Tell me.”

“I picked the lock. I’ve done it a million times when I was stuck here waiting for your father to get home from some event and had nothing to do. I mean, this is where the great Beckett Miller composes all his hits.”

“You secret fan you.” There’s laughter in my voice. Then it catches on a sob as reality comes crashing down.

I lean back just as Mitch leans up to cup my cheek. “Let me be here for you, Beats. Let me help you now when I couldn’t before.”

I get to my feet. Mitch follows suit. Tears well in my eyes. “All right.”

I look past him and see my father leaning against the open door. Hesitantly, afraid I’m going to be rebuffed, I reach out for Mitch’s hand.

Mitch doesn’t just take it. He lifts it to his lips and kisses it. “Don’t worry. Everyone in that room is ready for us to walk out together. The only one I had to convince was you.”

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