Page 10 of Echoes of a Silent Song
He hadn’t meant that as a compliment exactly, but the satisfied gleam in Blair’s eyes made it clear she’d taken it as one.Or ...perhaps that gleam had something to do with the bag of mini foil-wrapped peanut butter cups in her hand.
“Guilty pleasure,” she said in answer to the question he hadn’t asked.“Want one?”
Did he want one?Absolutely.Did he trust himself to stop at one?Not a chance.And based on the way his tux had fit last time he’d worn it, he needed to be able to stop at one.“No”—he held up a hand—“but thank you.”
“Suit yourself.”She dug another couple of cups from the bag, closed it with a hair tie she slipped from around her wrist, and tucked the bag back into the desk drawer.“Find some possibilities?”
“I’ve spent the last half hour digging through the database and feel like I barely scratched the surface.”He nodded toward the library.“I could lose many, many hours in there if I’m not careful.”
“I could too.And have.”Blair’s eyes took on a mischievous gleam.“Got a few of your pieces in there, if you didn’t see.”
His jaw clenched.“I saw.”
“We did ‘The Road Not Taken’ a couple years ago.Fall concert.Third on the program.”A faint peach blush touched the tops of her cheekbones.“Sorry.I remember every piece on every concert.”
Why did she feel the need to apologize?His inner angst must’ve registered on his face as disapproval.“No, it’s not that.It’s ...”Words failed him, and he shook his head.“How was it?”
“Not bad.”
Had she meant the piece or the performance?Desperation to dig further clawed at his chest, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing just how deep his insecurity ran.
Blair gathered her hair and leaned toward her cinnamon candle again.“Are you composing anything at the moment?”
“No.”It came out a growl.
“Wow.”Hurt flashed in her eyes.“Sorry I asked.”
He pulled in a breath and ordered his chaotic emotions into silence.“No, I’m the one who needs to apologize.I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
She straightened and let her hair fall.“Thank you.”
“I have creative block.”He reached up to rub the back of his neck, the red and blue stripes on gray carpet tiles suddenly preferable to Blair’s too-piercing gaze.“Have had for a while now.I thought my muse would come back after the pandemic, but ...”But Rayne ...
And my life crumbled to dust.My past self wouldn’t even recognize me now.
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with that.”Her voice was just soft enough, just sympathetic enough, that for a terrifying second he wondered if she’d read his thoughts and knew that creative block was the tip of his personal iceberg.“Truly.It sounds difficult and frustrating.”
For the first time, someone had accepted his struggles.Heard him without either pressuring him, as his agent had, or giving him a chin-up, God’s-got-this speech, as his mother had.
No, Blair had simply heard him.
And until this moment, he hadn’t known how much he’d needed that.
“Thanks.”The single syllable seemed inadequate, but it was all he could summon.
Clearing his throat, he turned back toward his desk.Back toward the stacks of music he’d be charged with teaching to high schoolers.Perhaps this could be a good thing.Perhaps studying these scores, refamiliarizing himself with music he loved, would start his own creativity flowing.
Over his shoulder, Blair gave a quiet gasp.“Is that ‘Death Be Not Proud’?”Without waiting for a reply, she slid an octavo from the box and flipped through it.“Oh, I love this one with every fiber of my being.”Her enthusiasm was unexpected.Disarming.Alarming in the way it squeezed his heart.“It’s sheer brilliance.That E-flat major chord, right here.”
Callum didn’t need to look to know what she was talking about, but he did anyway, following a neatly trimmed nail to measure 24, the spotwith one of the most beautiful harmonic twists he’d ever encountered in all of music.
“That chord absolutely melts me,” he said.
“Every.Time.”She caught his gaze and held it, admiration for the music hovering between them, edged with the dawn of camaraderie.
“What I’d give to be able to compose like that.”He tore his gaze away, the beauty of it suddenly too much.“And Vic makes it seem so easy.”
She gave a chuckle, low and rich.“I know it wasn’t.Not this one, anyway.”
