Page 11 of A Country Kind Of Love
“Why the heart?”Jesse asks.
“Huh?”
“The heart on the C chord?” He points to a faded black heart at the endof the key.
“Oh, my ex did that.”
Peyton starts to play the opening chords to “When You Say Nothing at All” by Alison Krauss.
“Why the C?”
“She’s called Chloe.”
“Ah, makes sense.” Jesse smiles. “How long where you together?”
Peyton thinks he’s nosey. Or maybe she just isn’t used to people paying attention to her. “Four years.”
“Bad breakup?”Jesse asks.
“She slept with my dad,” Peyton says, her face unmoving. Jesse’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops. “I’m joking.”She smirks.
“Jesus, don’t do that.” Jesse laughs. He stands above Peyton, watching intently as her fingers delicately move from left to right andback again.
“I love this song,” he says.
“Who sang the original?” Peyton quizzes.
“Alison Krauss.”
“Wrong.”
“It was!” Jesse asserts.
“Keith Whitley, 1988.” She’s confident in her answer, so Jesse doesn’tquestion it.
“Did you play outside as a child? Or just stay in watching CMT?” Jesse runs his fingers through his greasy hair; he’s charming in a Kane Brown type of way, his voice is deep and husky.
“CMT iseverything.”
“I figured.” He laughs. “I wish I could playlike that.”
“You play?” She raisesher eyebrow.
“I play like I’m being forced into it.”
There is an upright piano in the living room, similar to her own but less loved. Upon seeing it, she assumed from the candle wax dripping down the rectangular wooden frame and the dust building on the lid that it was used more as a coffee table.
“This one’s easy, you’re only really playing a C, F, and G chord. Like this...” Peyton demonstrates with three fingers on her right hand. “Then your left hand pretty much does the same, but with the single notes. The song only consists of those three chords all the way through. Well, the simple version does. You can take it up a level... maybe another day.” She stops playing; it comes so naturally, but the nerves kick in, and she retreats.
“Maybe you could teach me. I’d love to learn somenew songs.”
“Sure.”
On a scale of I’ll reluctantly show you one day, to I would rather get crushed by the piano, she was at a solid nine. Jesse must sense she’s uncomfortable becausehe deflects.
“I have some friends that come over every Friday night. We play a little music, have a few beers, and play some trivia, nothing too crazy. The invitation is open if you’d liketo join us.”
“Trivia?” Peyton’s ears are suddenly alert.
