Page 88 of Symphony of Salvation

I basked in its glory, hearing each stanza, understanding the arrangement like I’d been unable to do for the past two days at the piano bench. I paid attention for once, committing it to memory.

All the while, Niles stroked his thumb over my hand.

“Don’t let go.” I squeezed him tighter. “If I can hold onto it… If I can… I understand now. You’re the conduit.”

“What?” Niles asked.

I opened my eyes and met two setting suns; their shades nearly drawn.Us, I wanted to say.You and me. The symphony derives from this connection. I see it now. I hear it.

“Nothing. I’m lost in my head. Ignore me.”

“Lost in music?”

I frowned. “How did you…”

“I’m getting to know you, August. When stressed, you hum and play the piano on your legs. You touch your tie and toy with the buttons on your jacket. You have no tie or jacket today, so the music has taken you hostage. Am I right?”

“Yes, but this music is different.”

“How so?”

I stared at our joined hands, drawing Niles’s warmth and strength. “It… It’s not from stress this time. The opposite. This music is rooted in serenity. It comes at me when… It’s only there if… Niles?”

“August?” His hushed voice matched my trepid tone.

“Can we get out of here?”

The minute he took to consider stretched long and foreboding. I feared he would say no or tell me it wasn’t a good idea. I deserved no less. No promises had been made. No questions had been answered. We hadn’t discussed a single thing about the other night, and Niles’s position on secrecy was clear and inarguable. He would have been within his rights to ask for clarification or refuse, but he didn’t.

He squeezed my hand and got to his feet, tugging me up as well. In the closet-sized room, where any extra space had been taken up by Niles’sscores of scores, we ended up chest to chest. I could have kissed him then and there. The want in his sunset eyes matched my own. The longing. The lust.

But I didn’t. Instead, hoping to regain a fraction of the points I’d lost, I asked, “Can I take you to dinner?”

Niles tipped his head to the side, conveying skepticism. “Sounds awfully public and datish.”

I floundered before somehow finding the ability to nod. “It is. Constance suggested… I mean… I would love to…”

Humor danced in Niles’s eyes. “Am I allowed to call it a date then?”

“That would be wise. I’d hate to further upset her, and she seems to think this… us… we are a good match.”

“She’s a smart girl. Ask me properly.”

“Can I take you on a date, Niles?”

“I’d love that.”

He flicked off the light, and we stepped over multiple stacks of music as we made our way out of the closet and into the chilly late afternoon.

Dinner was a quiet Mediterranean spot Niles suggested. I did my best to hide the discomfort brought on by such a public affair. Unfortunately, attuned to every sideways glance I cast on neighbors or how I went to great lengths to have the meal appear as a friendly engagement, Niles grew visibly irritated. It was not the date he’d envisioned.

If I didn’t get over myself soon, he would have every right to send me packing, but a person didn’t change their ways overnight. I’d never learned to be comfortable in my own skin.

“Can I make an observation?” Niles asked after the waiter removed our plates at the end of the meal.

“I know what you’re going to say.”

He sipped a glass of ice water, quirking a brow.

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