Page 122 of The Drummer

“We’re both pretty happy with the direction. It’s going to sound awesome with our actual gear in the studio.”

“I can’t wait to see you play drums.”

I go still at the thought. “That’s right. I guess you haven’t even seen me play yet.”

“Just violin and that weird string-choir-air sounding thing.”

I bite back a grin. “Pads.”

“Huh?”

“That sound. It’s called a pad.”

“Oh.” She settles against me, and I tuck my arm around her. “How’s Luke?” she asks softly.

“Good. Better than I’ve seen him in a long time. It was like…”

I don’t even know how to finish that sentence. It wasn’t like anything. It wasn’t even like before. Nothing can ever be like the past once the present gets in the way.

Her fingers lace with mine, and I breathe a sigh.

“It’s going to be slow, but it’s going, Casey. I think it’s finally going,” she says, reading my mind like always.

I turn my head and rest my lips on her hair. “You’re amazing, Callie. I don’t know how you got through to him, but you did.”

She’s quiet as she considers everything.

“All I did was force myself into his life and refuse to let him hurt me.”

I almost laugh at her ridiculous attempt to downplay the impossible. “Yeah, well, no one else managed to do that.”

“How many people really tried besides you?” she returns.

I cringe and study the bottle in my other hand.

“It was timing, too, Casey,” she continues. “It was a lot of things. Sometimes it takes a stranger. Friends know too much.”

“True. You hold on too tight with friends.”

“Although, let’s be honest. I’m the one who got the best deal out of all this.”

A smile threatens my lips. “Oh yeah?”

“No question.”

She twists toward me and blasts beautiful hazel eyes at me.

I don’t move, desperate to take in as much as I can. We exchange a smile, and she lifts up enough for a soft kiss. It’s the perfect explanation. No words necessary.

“Promise me one thing though, Callie,” I say when we pull back. Her brow furrows as she meets my gaze. “No matter what happens with the two of us, we will always be there for him.” Emotion is pressing on my chest again. “I can’t lose him, too. Ican’t.”

Her grip tightens on my hand. “Neither can I.”

Even though I know as much, it feels better to hear her say it. Maybe there’s finally a reason to hope. Maybe I can start thinking about promises and a future again.

“Want to hear what we’ve got so far?” I ask.

It’s her art as much as ours, and I’m giddy at the thought of showing her what we’ve done with her words.

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