Page 33 of Just Another Meet Cute
Wait, did that mean—
I grabbed his arm that was resting on the table. “Did they ask Ryan?”
“Oh, no. I told them not to.” Ian lifted his arm and pulled away until only our hands were touching. “Trust me. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Somehow, I believed him. Even though his voice still had that lingering teasing note, his eyes were serious. And his thumb was rubbing tiny circles on my palm. So soft that it didn’t even look like he knew what he was doing. But I did. My heart lightly fluttered at the touch.
But my heart shouldn’t be fluttering for Ian. It can’t. Not anymore.
I immediately pulled my hand away. “So, you know how to play the piano?”
“Yes—”
“Ian is my favorite student,” Mr. Alan called out from the grill he was scraping. “Why don’t you play her something?”
The smile immediately wiped off Ian’s face. And he looked a little sick. “Oh, I don’t think Nina wants to hear me play.”
“But I do.”
“No, you seriously don’t.”
Enjoying the nervous look on his face, I beamed at him. “Yes, I seriously do.”
Groaning under his breath, he stood up. “Don’t say I didn’t try to warn you.”
I turned completely in my seat to watch as he made his way over to the keyboard. His right hand brushed at the dust on the plastic keys before he sat down. His face was downturned as he examined the board, adjusting a few buttons here and there.
Now that he was distracted, I couldn’t help studying his features. The sun had already set, so the porch only had some can lights and lanterns flickering from the corners. The dim light cast his face in the shadows. But I could see theconcentration on his forehead. How he scrunched his face up and bit his lower lip. His dark eyes were bright as he glanced over at me and smiled.
I’ve always had a thing for musicians. It’s a particular weakness of mine. Some girls liked the jocks and others liked preppy guys. One instrument was enough to make my stomach jump. And there was no denying how handsome Ian looked right now. No matter how much he annoyed me.
Which actually wasn’t that much at this exact moment.
Goose bumps rose on my arms as Ian finally let out a deep breath and lightly pressed down on the keys. It started off slowly at first, then became faster and faster as he played.
Really, really badly.
His playing sounded like he was alternating between playing a song and banging his hands on the keyboard. My ears started to hurt from the noise, and I leaned back in my seat as though the slight distance would help.
Ian smirked at the frozen look on my face. “I told you that you wouldn’t want to hear me play. He said I was his favorite student. Not his best one.”
With a chuckle, Mr. Alan shrugged. “Not even close. Ian’s lucky I like him so much or I would have failed him after the first semester. He is the most improved though.”
“You mean, he used to be even worse than this?” I blurt out in shock.
“Yep. There’s a reason why he serves the food rather than providing entertainment.” With a laugh, Mr. Alan moved back toward the grill. “I don’t know why he bothered trying. He’s practically tone deaf.”
“I didn’t have a choice. My parents made me take a music class. It was eitherthe piano or the violin. And I thought the piano was cooler.” Shrugging, Ian turned off the keyboard. “Girls love musicians, and I need all the help I can get.”
“I don’t think you need any help,” I automatically said before my jaw dropped.Oh my God. Did I just say that?“I mean, you did look pretty cool at first. Until you made me want to plug up my ears with this leftover steak.”
Instead of being snarky, Ian rubbed the back of his head and turned to stare at a couple of flyers on the wall next to him. His ears were bright pink against his dark hair.
Brushing invisible crumbs onto the floor, I piled the dirty plates and utensils on the edge of the table. “Well, it’s getting late. My parents are probably waiting for me.”
He stood and came over to grab everything to dump in the dirty tub on the other table. When he was done, he wiped his palms against the sides of his jeans and fell into step beside me. “Sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk much.”
“Yeah, that’s too bad. Next time. But I amsuperbusy the rest of this week. And most of next week.”
