Page 36 of A Wish for Us

His neck was corded with veins, and his muscles were so tight they made him seem huge. I was breathing hard, lightheaded from the sudden shock.

His gaze darted to the piano, then to his hands. His fingers rolled into fists and he shook with a sudden anger. Tears stained his cheeks, the evidence that whatever he was playing had caused his heart to break.

It had ruined him.

Cromwell rushed to the table and gathered his things. I watched him silently, having no clue what to say.

It was the second piece of music. The one he had switched to. Lost himself to. It had caused this change inside him. One that he was clearly fighting. My palm was still warm from his shoulder. Where I had been connected to him as he played his masterpiece. In my peripheral vision I saw that he had stilled, and I looked back at him. Cromwell was staring at my hand…the hand that had supported him as he played.

I knew the look in his eye by now. He was going to run. As Cromwell started toward the door, I intercepted his path, placing myself before him. Cromwell stopped dead, his laptop clutched to his chest like a shield. “Don’t,” I begged, my voice broken with panic.

I didn’t want this to end. I didn’t want him to leave again. Not like this. I searched his confused face. His jaw was tight and his eyes were wide. His body was shaking.

I swallowed, feeling the temperature rise between us. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t even let myself think too much about it. I couldn’t. Because reason was flying out of the window. Cromwell was a statue, the only movement from his rapidly flowing breath.

My hands trembled as I lifted them toward his face. Cromwell never broke my gaze. A sense of dizziness overcame me as my palms touched his cheeks. I rose to my tiptoes, trying to meet Cromwell’s eyes. “Don’t run.” I heard the waver in my voice. I sounded as nervous as I felt. “It’s okay,” Iwhispered. He closed his eyes, and an almost silent choked sound came from his mouth. That simple sound destroyed me. It conveyed a glimpse at the agony he held inside his heart.

Suddenly, his eyes slammed open and he stepped forward, crowding me so completely that our chests touched and we breathed the same air.

His laptop dropped to the ground, shattering on the hard floor as his hands took my wrists. “I can’t do this, Bonnie,” he whispered, voice hoarse and accent thick. His cheeks were still flooded, his eyes red. “I can’t face it all. I can’t deal with what you’re making me feel. When you’re near me. When you touch me.” His face contorted and he sucked in a tight breath. “I can’t cope with all the pain.”

I wanted to say something. I wanted to reassure him. Tell him I knew what that kind of haunted suffering felt like. But nothing like that came out. All that spilled from my lips was a tortured call. A wounded “Cromwell…”

As his name slipped from my lips, he staggered back. He didn’t even spare a glance at the shattered laptop on the floor. He just fled, leaving an air of desolation in his wake.

I slumped against the wall, trying to calm myself down from the tension of the moment. I rushed to my bag and pulled out my bottle of water. I drank and drank until my pulse had calmed and the sudden surge of dizziness left me.

What was Cromwell doing to me? I wasn’t meant to feel this way about anyone. I’d vowed not to let anyone get too close. But the way he played, the way his deep blue eyes fixed to mine like they were silently crying for help…this broken boy was burrowing his way into my weak heart.

But a slither of doubt crept into me as I thought of him as he left. I now recognized that expression on his face when he ran. He was pushing me away. Like he’d done now numerous times.

I glanced down at my hand. I stared unseeing at my palm, and a realization hit me. He’d played with my hand on his shoulder. He’d been lost, wrapped up in his own creation with me touching him…until my hand slipped away and it had all broken into pieces.

I closed my hand into a ball and looked away. I had no idea what that meant.

But to have touched him like that…to have seen a flicker of his smile and heard the music he had created thinking about the concert…

“Cromwell,” I whispered to the silent room. Then I waited for my heart to calm down so I could push him from my mind.

It was dark before I left.

And like a forever raging sea, my heart never calmed.

Chapter Eleven

Bonnie

My eyes were heavy as they blinked awake. The dark room was illuminated only by the nightlight in the corner. My hand slapped at the nightstand as the sound of my cell pierced the quiet night.

I squinted at the screen. My stomach sank. “Matt?”

“Bonnie,” he said, out of breath. “You need to come. It’s Easton.”

My legs were over the edge of my mattress before he’d even said my brother’s name. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s worse than ever.” Matt went quiet. I could hear him moving away from the sounds of music and laughter. “You still there, Bonn?”

“Yeah.” I put the cell phone on speaker as I threw on my jeans.

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