Page 73 of My Song for You
I relaxed in his arms and closed my eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered. The steadythump thump thumpof his heart lulled me into that fuzzy zone between being awake and asleep.
Neither of us said anything. If it hadn’t been for Jared drawing lazy circles on my lower back, I would’ve guessed he’d gone to sleep. Part of me longed to ask him what he was thinking, but the other part reasoned it was probably just as well that I didn’t know. Might as well let me live with my delusions for as long as possible, before reality bitch-slapped me in the face.
I had no idea how long I’d been asleep when the warmth I was cuddling shifted. Somewhere in the depths of my foggy mind, the sound of a child crying nudged me awake.
I sat up with a start. Jared was pulling on his jeans and was out the door before I had a chance to scramble out of bed. I grabbed my yoga pants and T-shirt from the chair and shoved them on.
By the time I entered Logan’s bedroom, Jared was sitting on his bed, hugging him. The bedroom light wasn’t on, but there was enough light spilling in from the hallway to illuminate father and son. I turned on Logan’s lamp, with a soccer ball as the base, so that he could see me when I signed.
“What’s wrong?” I signed to him.
“Bad dream,” he signed back. He pointed to his ear and signed, “I want to talk.”
Jared watched us, clueless as to what we were saying.
“You want the processor back on?” I signed. Logan could talk without it, but it was still hard to understand what he was saying because he couldn’t hear himself speak.
“Yes. Want Jared to sing to me.”
“What’s he saying?” Jared asked.
“He wants you to sing to him,” I replied. Then to Logan I said and signed, “Jared doesn’t sing. He plays guitar.”
“That’s okay, I’ll sing.”
I flashed Jared a soft smile. The man never ceased to amaze me as to what he would do when it came to his son.
I attached the processor to Logan’s cochlear implant. Once I was finished, Jared started singing. My mouth dropped open. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never heard Jared sing.
I recognized the ballad from the band’s first album. While I would never admit this to Nolan Kincaid’s face, Jared was just as good a singer as he was—and I’d always thought that Nolan was an amazing singer.
Jared finished the song, which was about finding your way when you were lost. Logan wouldn’t understand the meaning behind the lyrics, but that was okay. The melody was soothing, and that was more important than anything else.
Logan clapped.
“Why have I never heard you sing before?” I asked. “You’re amazing.”
Jared’s cheeks reddened. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him blush. “Thanks.”
“No, really. You could seriously be a lead singer.” Which was great if Nolan ever decided to leave the band.
“No, I couldn’t. It takes more than a good voice—”
“Great voice,” I corrected.
“There’s more to it than just standing onstage and singing. Nolan’s a born front man. He knows how to get the audience excited. He lives for being the center of attention when he’s onstage.”
“You don’t want to ever sing lead vocals?”
Jared shook his head. “Why would I? I’m perfectly happy playing guitar and letting Nolan get all the attention.” He chuckled. “And Mason, if he has his way.”
That was too bad, I thought. The world had no idea what it was missing.
I removed Logan’s processor and we stayed with him until he fell asleep again, cuddling the toy dog Jared had bought him this afternoon.
Jared left the room while I watched Logan sleep for another minute or two. Tears blurred my vision. Even though Logan had no idea that Jared was his father, Jared was becoming more important to him with each passing day. What Jared and I had was temporary. I could feel it in my bones. Eventually I’d lose them both—and there was nothing I could do.
Chapter 30
