Page 33 of Kneeling for Them
She pauses, her fingers still on the keys while she looks at me over her shoulder.“Already?”
“Yeah, it’s my agent.She’s harassing me about releasing a new song, so I should deal with her or she’ll only bug me again in ten minutes.”
“Okay,” she says.“But I won’t blame you if your new song is called ‘My Annoying Agent.’”
I laugh, and hopefully it only sounds forced to my ears.Ella’s already playing again, picking out a melody and accompanying chords.
I back out of the room, keeping Ella in my view for as long as possible, because she’s so fucking gorgeous, she takes my breath away.
If I’m not careful, I could lose everything.
Eight
Ella
The next Friday is Valentine’s Day.Bartleby’s was busy for the early dinner rush, but since then, it’s been slow.It suits me fine, because my mind is filled with music.On Monday when Kingston and Sebastian took me to the university, I spent my time with the practice piano working out lyrics and music for a new song.
And the song is for the guys.
Will I ever work up the nerve to share it with them?Doubtful.But I wrote it, and it’s not bad.
For some reason, sharing my body with them isn’t nearly as scary as sharing something that I wrote and composed…something about showing this to them, the inside of my heart, is so fucking scary, I can barely stand it.My pulse picks up every time I even think about playing the song for them.
A big group of guys enters the pub.My heart stutters all over again until I realize they aren’t the same guys who were asking about Tommy.Those guys haven’t come back, but that doesn’t stop me from having minor panic attacks every time I think I see them.
The guys sit in Natasha’s section, and she flirts with them while taking their orders.I lean against the counter, waiting for my last table to finish their drinks and pay their bill.I’m not in a rush, because after work, for the first time in a week, I’m going back to my apartment.My door is fixed, and Kingston insisted on checking it out before letting me move back in.
My face heats at the thought of him showing up at my apartment building.He probably thinks it’s disgusting, especially in comparison to his luxurious penthouse.
At any rate, he deemed the new door good enough.
And now my meager belongings are in a duffel, all ready to bring to my apartment.
I’d be lying if I said I was one hundred percent thrilled about this.
In fact, I’d be lying if I said I was even one percent thrilled.
Kingston’s penthouse is, well, amazing.The pool.The bedroom.The kitchen.The roomy, comfortable couches.The well-stocked refrigerator.The woman—who isn’t me—who comes by to clean the place once a week.
One week in the lap of luxury, and how quickly I was spoiled.
Natasha returns to the bar to put in her new table’s drink orders.While Kevin mixes drinks and pours beer from the taps, she leans next to me, elbows on the counter like mine.
“Are you doing anything for Valentine’s Day?”she asks.
I shake my head.“Nothing special.You?”
“I have options, apparently.”She reaches into her apron pocket and pulls out several scraps of paper with names and numbers written on them.
“Hey, congrats,” I say, laughing and knocking her shoulder with mine.
“Oh, thanks so much.And you?No plans?I highly doubt your boyfriends are going to let Valentine’s Day pass without treating you somehow.”
“They didn’t say anything.But Kingston surprised me on Monday with a practice room at the university.”
“Practice room?Sounds kinky.”
We laugh.
