Page 4 of Give Me a Reason

It didn’t sound rational, but I wasn’t feeling completely sane tonight. Every time I spoke to Finn, he knocked me off my axis. He made me question myself and what I’d always believed to be true.

He’d revealed tonight that his parents had been divorced nine times between the two of them. It was unbelievable, yet his shame and disgust had been very real. Ireland didn’t talk about her parents much, and I wondered if that was why.

I got the vague impression that their family didn’t worry about money, that she was free to take whatever job suited her fancy. But then, most people around me didn’t worry about money the way I did. I’d grown up with love but also with the distinct impression that money could run out at any time. It always felt like we didn’t have enough, and it was a relief when we could buy groceries that week. I was the kid at school who had free lunches, and I hated it, even though it made my parents’ lives easier.

Finn couldn’t possibly understand why I hoped so hard for a better future, one that had the love my parents shared and the safety and security of money. I wanted to do something that I enjoyed and earn money from it.

Happily Ever Afters was the best job I’d ever had, both in terms of pay and stability. I wouldn’t do anything to screw it up. I’d have to ignore my reaction to the man currently bent over his guitar, strumming the last chords of a song about a love that was so good it couldn’t possibly last.

CHAPTER TWO

Finn

I kept my fingers on the guitar and my head bowed, but I could feel Aria’s gaze on me like a caress. I loved playing for people, and I sensed when someone was enjoying my music, and she was.

The rest of the group was talking and laughing, eating cake, and drinking the leftover champagne, but Aria wasn’t paying attention to them. Her eyes had been on me the entire evening, even when she was talking to Harper.

I wasn’t cocky enough to think she was anything like a groupie at a bar I was playing. She didn’t like me, not after the ridiculous things I’d said to her. I couldn’t stop myself from spewing every single thing I was thinking when she was in my presence. It was like I couldn’t control myself around her.

Every time I snuck a glance over at her, she was lost in the notes and the lyrics I was singing. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes flared, and her lips slightly parted in wonder. She loved my music, and I couldn’t stop playing for her.

I played longer than I should have. I played until my fingers ached from holding the pick, and my neck was tight with being curled over the instrument. When the notes of my last song faded into the night, Aria stood, her untouched cake still on the table, and walked toward the summerhouse. It was a small building that Lily had renovated into a suite for the bridal party, but it also served as the restroom for the guests.

She was probably going to the bathroom, and I should leave her alone, but I couldn’t. I had to know if she liked my music. I wasn’t sure why I was so intent on getting a reaction out of her—good or bad—but I was.

I carefully set my guitar in my case and left it by my chair. The evening air was cool for fall, but my skin was overheated from performing for so long.

I was exhausted, and I should have headed home, but instead, I followed the path Aria took. Lily had renovated the smaller building after she started holding weddings on her farm in the spring. She lived in the main house, and it kept the bridal party and guests away from her personal space.

The farther I walked, the more the conversation and laughter from the group faded into the distance.

I told myself I wanted to talk to her about music, but my heart was practically racing in my chest. Why was I here? Why was I following this woman who drove me crazy?

I opened the screen door and leaned against the wall, facing the women’s restroom. My actions were a bit stalkerish, but before I could change my mind, Aria opened the bathroom door.

With her hand on her chest, she said, “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t move from my relaxed stance.

Her cheeks were still flushed. Had she been drinking the champagne, or was her skin naturally pink? “Does Gia need me?”

The implication was clear—I was acting weird, and I’d better explain myself. I stuffed my hands into my pockets. “You enjoyed me playing guitar?”

“I enjoy music,” she said carefully.

“It was more than that.” I wasn’t sure why it mattered, but I wanted her to say she enjoyed me playing.

Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I don’t know if you realized it, but your whole body was moving with the rhythm of the music. You were into it.” Why was I pushing her to say something I wanted to hear when I knew instinctively it was true?

“I love listening to you,” she finally admitted, her eyes darting around before finally landing on me. “Harper said you’re a band teacher.”

I tipped my head to the side. “You didn’t know that?”

“If Ireland mentioned it, I don’t remember.”

“Ouch.” I pulled my hand out of my pocket to touch my chest. I’m not sure why I cared. We didn’t see eye to eye on anything. Why would she care about me?

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