Page 123 of The Silent Note

“Ketchup.”

“Huh?”

“You got a little ketchup…”

“Where?” She brushes her chin.

“No, to the left.”

“Here?”

I reach out and swipe my thumb against the corner of her lip, tugging her mouth down slightly. She freezes, her eyes glazing over.

“There,” I say, wiping off on a napkin.

She coughs. I offer her a sip of my wine, noticing she hasn’t touched hers. Grey rejects it and reaches for the glass of water to her right.

“You okay?” I ask.

She inhales deeply and nods, still catching her breath.

“I heard about the students walking out today,” I say quietly.

Her movements still. She keeps staring at the ground like there’s something extremely interesting beneath her feet.

“You were having a crappy day. I’m sorry I didn’t make it better with what I said in the car.”

Sweet brown eyes lift to mine. She blinks rapidly.

“I’m sorry I only have bad news to tell you tonight. It makes me really angry that I can’t do anything for you right now.”

She hiccups.

It’s really freaking cute.

“But more than anything, I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to give you what you really need.” I reach out and take her hand, rubbing a thumb over her bare ring finger. “Everyone thinks I’m just the guy to call for a good time. But with you, Grey,” I letout a shaky breath because damn, I hate being vulnerable, “ with you… I don’t want you to come to me only when you need sex.”

The silence drops like a rock.

She’s blinking so hard I wonder if I should offer to blow dirt out of her eyes.

“Don’t get me wrong. Feel free to ask for sex. Whenever. Wherever. I’m always ready.”

She smiles, one of those wobbly ‘I really want to be a prim and proper teacher but I can’t right now’ smiles.

I bring her knuckles up to my lips and kiss it. “But I want you to come to me. Not just when you’re horny or angry and need to let off some steam. When you’re tired. When you’re sad. When you’re happy. When you’re not even sure what you’re feeling.”

Her eyes look a little glassy and she quickly ducks her head to hide from me. “Why… why are you saying all this?”

I pause, my thumb lingering over her ring finger.

“Did you know that Dutch turned down a gig because of me?”

Her nose scrunches in confusion.

“He thought I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing a replacement behind my drums. He thought that I’d lose it. And I probably would’ve. For so long, music was what kept me sane when I was barely holding on. And yet, I told Dutch he should have taken the gig.”

I stop again.

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