Page 11 of Meet Me at the Metro

As I do, my eyes snag onto the old, antique piano sitting near the conductor’s stand before me. It draws my attention the most out of everything in the room, hooking me with its classic charm and weathered wood.

I wish I possessed the talent of playing a piano like this. Now that I’m thinking about it, I realize theGildenhillprogram requires students to choose a musical instrument to pair with their studies. Until now, Iwasn’t entirely sure what I would choose, but I think the sight of this piano alone might give me my answer.

Evie disappears into one of the back storage rooms as I make my way over to the musical antique. My fingers drift along the dark-stained wood of the piano’s fallboard before pulling it open and exposing the ivory and black piano keys underneath. I smooth my hands along their glossy dips and ridges, loving how they feel beneath my fingertips.

Something in me tells me not to give in to the temptation of playing one of the keys, but I can’t fight my curiosity. My thumb presses down, and a warm note rings through the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Shit!”I curse, completely startled by the masculine voice behind me. I quickly draw my hands from the piano and dart my head back. My stomach twists when I find those gray-blue eyes from last night watching me again. “You scared me.”

“Does that belong to you?”

“No, it doesn’t. I was just—”

“Showing no consideration for people’s shit.Again.”

I roll my shoulders back at the brash response, refusing to give this man even the slightest bit of inclination that he intimidates me.

“That’s not what I was doing.”

“Sure does look like it.” He strides my way and reaches around me to slam the fallboard shut again. “You don’t go around touching things that don’t belong to you, alright? How would you like it if I came intoyourspace and started touchingyourshit.”

“So the piano’s yours, then?”

“No, it’s not mine. Not exactly.” I swear the space between us grows smaller with every word that tumbles from his mouth. “It’s my—it’s…”

“It’s?”

“Just stop fucking with things that don’t belong to you.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

He scoffs. “What’s wrong withme?”

“Yeah,you. I’m sorry about last night, but is it really an excuse for being so freaking rude? You don’t even know me.”

“I know you’re a clumsy-arse American who can’t seem to keep your hands off of people’s things.”

“Says some grumpy-ass Brit who hasn’t said a single nice thing to me.”

Theo stares at me—long and hard. I force myself to swallow back how nervous it makes me, refusing to let him see me budge even an inch.

“My apologies,” he taunts, narrowing his eyes. “You look really fucking devourable in that pink cardigan, Nora.Better?”

My legs go completely numb at his deep and guttural voice, my heart racing with all the possible meanings laced within the backhanded comment. I glare at him, hating how quickly the heat of embarrassment reaches my cheeks.

“You’re a royal asshole, you know that?”

“And you’re a royal pain in my arse,” he shrugs. “Quit messing with shit that doesn’t belong to you.”

I cock my head sideways, challenging him further. “Maybe I’ll consider it when you get that stick out of your ass, Teddy.”

“That’s not my name!”

A large crash from one of the back storage rooms startles us from our argument before it can escalate any further.

“Ask before you touch, Nora.” I’m surprised by how gentle his tone is this time. He steps away from me and heads toward all the commotion. “What the hell did you break this time, Evie?”

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