Page 62 of Muted

I tap my fingers in a rolling pattern on my thigh as I consider what I should be doing. Glancing at her lap, I find that I want to reach out and hold it again, but it’s probably inappropriate. My eyes roam up her stomach, then chest, where I hover again.

Although her breasts are on the smaller side, they’re perfect on her frame. I’ve always been with women who have obnoxiously large breasts, most fake, and they show them off like their one prized possession. A symbol of what they’re worth. But Susu is all grace, somewhat conservative with the cuts of her shirts, and doesn’t go out of her way to show off her looks.

She’s real.Raw. Perfectly imperfect. It’s probably my favorite thing about her. I’m used to perfection surrounding me, so seeing the talent and beauty in what some would consider not perfect is fascinating.

When my eyes finally make it past her now bright red cheeks to her eyes, I realize I wasnotinconspicuous. “Sorry,” I say softly before looking back at the beaten down and broken angel.

My fingers halt in their silent song when I feel her move closer to my side, then lay her head on my shoulder. I can’t stop myself from pressing my face against her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

I won’t make the mistake of calling her out for talking to me again. Instead, I lay my cheek against her head and whisper back, “You’re welcome.”

The two of us sit for another fifteen minutes before I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Susu doesn’t move from my side as I reach for it, then read Chester’s text.

Chester: Is she okay? Are you two coming back soon?

I feel her roll her head towards my phone, so I turn it, allowing her to read what he sent. Her huff of annoyance makes me smile more, since apparently, I’ve had one plastered on my face the entire time we sat here to stare at the grimy statue.

“What should I say? We do need to go back to warmup for the evening.” As much as Idon’twant to leave this little bubble where she’s not just my partner at the bar, but a girl who wants to be in my presence just because, has to end for now.

A tiny, high-pitched mewl escapes her as she plucks my phone from my fingers. Typing rapidly, she jabs her finger against the screen as she finishes, then hands it back. I hate she ends our contact to stand and stretch, but my laughter bursts out of me when I read her reply to Chester.

Me: SHE’S fine. You probably won’t be. We’ll be back when we’re back, fucking asshole.

His answer comes through just as I finish reading.

Chester: Jesus Christ.

“Well, now you get to decide what kind of presents you want because you’ve pretty much got both of them eating out of your hand at this point,” I tease, standing as well and pocketing my phone.

She simply waves me off like she couldn’t care less about that prospect. I’m stunned when she holds her hand out to her side, fingers spread wide like she’s waiting for me to join her again.

I’m fairly positive I’ve never jumped at an opportunity faster. We start walking back to Sonority, swinging our hands, enjoying the sunshine before it’ll undoubtedly turn back to overcast skies by tomorrow.

When we’re about a block away, I tug her to cross the street with me for a pit-stop before she has to face them. Peering up at me in question, I jerk my head toward the shop on the corner. “Want some ice cream first?”

My chest swells when I hear her soft giggle, and she shakes her head quickly. Then holds up a finger. Pulling out her phone, she types me a message.

‘I don’t care for ice cream, but I’d still like to go for you.’

“Oh. No, it’s okay. We don’t have to go if you don’t care for it,” I tell her. It’s not that I wanted it for myself; I just wanted to make her smile a bit more before we had to head back. She doesn’t let me back out, though. Instead, she tugs my hand forward until we are standing in front of the door. Only to find it locked with a note on the door saying that they had to close early for a family emergency.

“Son of a bitch.” I’m irritated that I can’t follow through on doing something that actually seemed to have perked her up. “Well, that fucking sucks.”

She tugs on my arm until I’m forced to lean down for her. While still holding my hand, she uses the other to cup my cheek, and she presses her lips to the other side. Leaning back, she meets my eyes and gives me a smile filled with gratitude and happiness.

I can’t stop my body from leaning toward her again and brushing my lips against hers just as softly. There’s a tingling where we touch for that briefest of moments, and after I pull away just as quickly, I let my tongue sample the hint of flavor left behind.

With a stunned look, she lets me drag her back to the bar. I’m not going to comment on it, and she doesn’t either. The two minutes we take to walk back to the front door, my mind races with thoughts of doing that again, but I also get infuriated the two fuck ups are waiting for our return.

As we walk inside, I don’t drop her hand when my eyes shoot around the space, only to find them both by the bar where they’ve obviously been waiting for us.

“You two need to make yourselves scarce for a while. Let us have the bar to practice,” I tell them. Typically, I don’t make demands as the talent in this place, but for her peace of mind, I’ll pull the card today.

Theo raises a brow at me like I can’t be serious, but I simply narrow my eyes and then throw a look in Susu’s direction where she’s waiting at my side. I feel her hand squeeze mine slightly before she pulls it free and heads to our pianos.

Chester is watching her, then nods once before smacking Theo’s shoulder to gain his attention. “Come help me in the office for a bit.”

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