Breaking Hearts (B-boy #3) Read online

  Figuring it’d be better for me to leave it be and not mortify her further, I coughed loudly, gaining everyone's attention again. “You have a piano here.”

  I motioned toward the faded piano, which was scratched up and chipped at the corners.

  Mallory pouted. “It’s not the same.”

  “Why? Because it isn’t a grand piano, bougie lady? Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you get mad at me when I said the exact same thing yesterday?” I teased; unfortunately she wasn’t in a teasing sort of mood.

  “It’s not the piano, dipshit!”

  My eyebrows rose automatically. “Ouch.”

  She scowled, ignoring me. “I like to be prepared to play in that giant hall. The more I practice there, the more I'm used to it and so—”

  “Your performance becomes robotic,” I finished for her.

  She placed her mug back down on the counter, rattling the ceramic cup. Like a predator, she weaved between her friends until she was right in front of me, looking as if she was ready to pounce. “Weren’t you the one to tell me to prepare? To have muscle memory and all that? I need that fucking hall for fucking muscle memory!”

  Her roommates and Raphael shifted uncomfortably, looking as if they were desperate for an exit. Figuring I’d throw them a bone, I yanked her back into her room in a hurry. As I shut the door, I called out, “Hey, do you think you guys can let us have the apartment for practice today? I have some pointers I want to teach her without an audience.”

  “You don’t have the right to kick them out of their own apartment,” Mallory snapped.

  Claudia waved her hands in the air. “No, it’s okay!” She shot me a conspiratorial wink. “We had some stuff to do today anyway, right, Jinny?”

  “We do?”

  Claudia looked at her with wide eyes and nodded her head. “We do…with Raphael, remember?”

  He lowered the apple he was just about to bite into. “Huh?”

  Mallory rolled her eyes. “You guys are like the most obvious people ever.”

  “We just want to help out,” Claudia replied, batting her eyes innocently. “Besides, you’re a bit scary right now, Mal. I kinda feel sorry for Asher having to deal with you all day.”

  “That’s nice.” Mallory’s voice dripped with venomous sarcasm.

  I bit back a laugh. “Either way, I appreciate it.” I nodded my head and grinned. “And I agree. She is scary. I can handle her though, don’t worry.”

  Mallory was fuming at this point, but luckily Claudia was very nonchalant about the situation. “We’ll be back for dinner. Be nice to each other, kids. Don’t want the cops coming again.”

  “Cops?” Raphael scratched at his oily looking hair and frowned. “We only fought for one night, right? What the hell did I miss?”

  Jinny giggled as she pulled him back to her room. “I’ll tell you later. Besides, I think it’s our signal to leave.”

  I shot them a smile, closing the bedroom door softly. Once I heard the telltale click of the lock, I spun around and pointed to her bed. “Seriously, you are on a timeout.”

  Her eyes widened furiously. “You can’t talk to me like I’m some sort of child.”

  “And you can’t listen to my lessons unless you’re calm.” I didn’t care that I was coming off really bossy, she needed a dose of reality. I gestured toward her sunken bed once again and instructed, “Sit down and calm down. I’m going to take a shower. Once I’m back you better be in the right mindset to practice.”

  “Just remember whose house this is!” To my relief, she sat down without more of a fight, though she was still obviously stewing.

  I sighed with relief, feeling the tension roll off of me. Grabbing the first set of clothes I could find, I turned back to her and sighed. “I don’t know what’s eating you this morning, but just try your best to relax. Practice will be over before you know it.”

  “Whatever.” She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. “You know, you’re a really bad houseguest.”

  “But I’m a really awesome friend. Just remember that.” I turned to walk out the door, regretting that I used that unfortunate word once again.

  Chapter 30

  Tick. Tick. Tick.

  I stared at the metronome and grimaced. “I hate this thing.”

  “Why? You don’t appreciate order and structure?” Mallory asked nonchalantly. She wiggled from side to side, trying her best to fix her posture. At least she was listening to one thing I suggested.

  “I don’t appreciate anything that reminds me of staring at a clock, willing for it to be three o’clock so I can run home from school,” I answered, flicking the pointed hand.

  “Did you not go to college?” she asked, head snapping in my direction.

  I shook my head. “No. Why go to college when I already knew how to do what I wanted out of life? Here’s a hint—it didn’t involve studying for finals.”

  “I guess.”

  I turned and walked over to her. Her eyes automatically dropped to the piano bench as if she were expecting me to sit down. Though I was dying to feel the warmth of her body against mine once again, it wasn’t in the lesson plan for that day.

  “Play,” I said simply.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Play your piece. I want to try something.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but played without protest. Once the beautiful melody began to waft through the tiny apartment, I stretched out my arm, pulling it back toward me in a wave-like motion.

  Kerplunk.

  Blinking, I straightened myself and saw both of Mallory’s hands sprawled across the keys, pressing down. “Why’d you stop playing?”

  “Why are you…?”

  I smirked. “Dancing?”

  She nodded, staring at me as if I had just told her I was a time-traveler from the future.

  “I’m trying to show you how music should control you and not the other way around.” I waited for her to respond, and when I was met with nothing but silence, I shook my head and took a deep breath. “I’ve only heard your song a couple times, right?”

  “So?”

  “Do you think it’s possible for me to have choreographed a dance already?”

  She shifted. “No.”

  “Can you agree that the music controls me?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay, Britney Spears.”

  I felt my lips twitch and I tried my best not to laugh. “Mallory, I’m being serious here.”

  “Fine.” In a calmer tone, she said, “I get what you’re saying. I really do. I also don’t doubt that you can come up with a dance at the drop of a hat. I mean, that’s why people dance in clubs, right? There’s no choreography there.”

  “Unless you’re in a bad 90’s chick flick,” I suggested.

  Now it was her turn to smile. “Didn’t really peg you for a chick flick kind of guy, no matter what decade.”

  I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m multi-faceted.”

  This time she did let out a giggle. With a shake of her head, she groaned, “Do you expect me to bust a move during my ballad? Damien would go crazy, and not in a good way.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “No, I don’t expect you to do body rolls while playing Tchaikovsky.”

  Her eyebrows rose.

  “What? Surprised I know more composers?” I grinned and shook my head. “Anyway, I want you to allow the music to move through you. Don’t just sit up stiff; allow the music to rock through your body so that you’re making love to the keyboard.”

  She stared at me blankly. “You are officially losing it.”

  “Hey, I’ve seen pianists rock back and forth before, why can’t you?”

  She rolled her neck from side to side, grimacing. “I just…don’t feel comfortable doing that.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know…it’s just too…too…”

  “What? Sexual?” I bit back a laugh.

  She frowned. “I was going to say inappropriate, but yeah, whatever,�
� she muttered.

  “I doubt those other pianists are thinking about sex…at least I don’t think they are.” I shook my head and laughed at the incredulous expression on her face. “But seriously, Mal, they just feel the music so much they can’t help but succumb to the melody.” To make a point, I reached out and once again rolled my arm back into me, spinning around. “Why can’t you?”

  I peered at her, trying to persuade the answer out of her.

  It worked.

  She shrugged. “I guess I’ve just never been comfortable enough in my own skin to really put myself out there like that.” She pushed back her hair absently, but I couldn’t help but smile that she’d inadvertently revealed her face. “I mean, look at my roommates.”

  “What about them?” I asked with a frown. They seemed like nice enough girls. Were they actually bullying her without me knowing it?

  I felt my body tense at the thought.

  “They’re so tiny and compact!” she complained.

  Okay, I was definitely not expecting that answer.

  “Ha-ha, I didn’t realize they were VW Bugs,” I snickered. A small smile threatened to show on her lips, but she hid it by biting onto the corner of her mouth. “Aw, look at that. I got you to laugh.”

  “Hardly,” she responded with a chuckle.

  I grinned back. “I don’t know what your problem is. Like I told you before, I think you are beautiful.”

  And that she was. Though Claudia and Jinny were gorgeous in their own right, Mallory was her own mix of innocent sensuality. The way she moved, spoke, and even breathed was enough to capture anybody’s attention. It was a shame she wanted to hide from it.

  She shifted uncomfortably, dropping her gaze. “Thanks.”

  Realizing that she might clam up further, I quickly changed the subject. “Keep playing and I’ll show you what it means to let the music move through you.”

  “Oh, you’ll show me, huh?” It was hard to miss the flirtation in her tone.

  I did my best to ignore it, knowing that this time I probably wouldn’t have enough restraint to hold me back from acting on my feelings. Both Mallory and I had enough to work out and it’d be a terrible, terrible idea to add a relationship into the mix.

  I gulped, feeling nervous sweat begin to pool on my back. “Okay. Go on. Play.”

  Her fingers began to move gracefully across the piano, her right foot tapping the pedal in beat. Though she played perfectly—no big surprise there—she never once looked at her sheet music or at the keys and kept her head turned toward me. There was nothing more thrilling than knowing she was watching my body intently.

  It was a bit hard dancing to music that wasn’t funk or hip-hop. Having never been trained in jazz, modern, or classical dancing, even this was a huge stretch for me. I still tried my best, though. Anything to make her feel comfortable despite feeling a bit awkward myself.

  I let my fingers move first, mimicking the way Mallory’s were flowing up and down the keyboard. I imagined playing my own instrument, tickling the space around me. After a few seconds of basically fingering the air—we can all guess where my mind had floated to there—I allowed my arms to move, and then my legs, all the way down to my feet. I shut my eyes, listening to each low note, each high note, and each rapid one and slow one. As I swayed along to the tune I imagined how it’d feel moving along with Mallory. Would her hips sway with mine? Would her head rest on my shoulders?

  Kerplunk.

  Shit. Had I sprouted a boner or something?

  “Uh, sorry,” Mallory muttered. I opened my eyes briefly and noticed she was no longer looking at me and instead focused solely on the keys. I flinched, glancing down at my crotch and breathed a sigh of relief to realize my dick was still asleep, which was a feat in its own right considering what was going on in my mind.

  “It’s okay. Let’s just start over,” I commanded in my kindest voice.

  She nodded, inhaling so deeply that I could make out her cardigan splitting open at her chest. Fuck. This really wasn’t helping me out any.

  Just get your head in the game.

  Once the music started again, my muscle memory took over. Doing a slower version of one of my favorite dance moves, I lowered to the ground and pushed myself back up again, sliding to my feet. The music began to play louder and faster so my body followed suit. And as Mallory neared the grand finale, so did I. In one swift move, I kicked up my leg and rotated in the air, finally landing a perfect gainer.

  My chest rose and fell; my breaths staggered and short. A drop of cold sweat dripped off my nose and onto the floor in a splat. As the water drop spread across the floor in a sun-like pattern, a banging sound startled me back to my feet.

  Mallory’s face was its normal shade of red, her breaths mirroring mine.

  “What the hell was that?” I demanded, spinning around in shock.

  She forced a laugh, which came out strained and cracked. “Yeah, that’s Mrs. Jonas. She’s this old lady who lives downstairs. She really doesn’t take to noise very well.”

  “Oh, wow. Sorry about that. I forgot you guys were on the second floor.” I gazed around her cozy apartment, taking in the cohesive patterns that decorated the small space and smiled. “It’s like your own little world in here. I sort of forgot we were even in the middle of an apartment. Your music transported me somewhere else.”

  “Yeah, it’s a regular oasis in here,” she replied with an amused grunt.

  “It is,” I insisted. I shoved my hands into my jean pockets and shrugged. “So…what did you think?”

  She swallowed, grabbing at her throat. “About what?”

  “I saw you moving along with me,” I lied. My eyes were closed the whole time. “The music really got to you, didn’t it?”

  “I moved?” she asked in disbelief.

  I watch the coloring of her cheeks spread down to her neck and chuckled. “Why do you seem so embarrassed about it? It’s a good thing.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, gathering her sheet music into a small pile. “I’m not embarrassed. Just…it’s not something I do.”

  “Well, let’s do it again then.”

  “Do what exactly?”

  “Move…together.”

  The look of shock on her face was almost comical. “And what do you mean by that exactly?”

  “Dance, of course.” What else did she think I meant?

  I couldn’t get a read on her face, but I didn’t need to try so hard because soon she burst into laughter. “Are you serious?”

  I blinked quickly. “Did I stutter? Yeah, I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She grimaced and glanced at the floor. “We’re not going to do any flipping or anything else, are we? I don’t think poor Mrs. Jonas will be able to hand it.”

  Grinning, I pulled out my phone and pulled up my music app. “Which composer would you like?”

  “Seriously? A composer? If we’re dancing, can it be something other than classical?”

  I nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just assumed you’d want classical.”

  “Not for dancing.”

  The corners of my mouth lifted up slightly. “My mistake. Okay, so pick your poison. It’ll be our background music to our first dance.”

  She bit the inside of her cheek repeatedly and tilted her head to the side in thought. “What about Queen?”

  My eyes bugged out. “Queen? Like Freddie Mercury, Queen?”

  “What?” She shrugged nonchalantly. “Did you think all the music I listen to is from the Baroque period or waltzes, or sonatas? Of course I know about Queen.”

  I rubbed the back of my head and shrugged. “I didn’t have you pegged as a Queen type of girl, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me. Besides, I remember you telling me you sung their songs in the shower. Figured it’d be a treat for both of us if—”

  “I’m not singing,” I cut her off with a scowl.

  “And why not?” she asked innocently. “Might as we
ll both be awkward, right?”

  I scratched my head and grimaced. “Doesn’t really work like that. Let’s just dance.”

  She stifled a giggle and stood from the piano, stepping in front of me until she was just mere inches away. My hand itched to touch her, but I stood fast, somehow keeping my arms pinned to my side. As dumb ideas went, why did I ask her to dance with me? It was like holding a carrot out to a horse. There was no way I wasn’t about to go for it.

  As I watched her nervously play with the ends of her hair, I knew she was wrong. I didn’t need to sing to feel awkward, that’s for sure.

  I cleared my throat, trying to steady my beating heart. My fingers moved of their own accord and soon Bohemian Rhapsody was playing from my phone’s speaker.

  Fantasy…

  She was definitely my fantasy.

  At the sound of the word, I reached forward and took one of Mallory’s hands into mine and placed my other hand on the curve of her lower back, pulling her close to me. She visibly gulped, stiffening up as I guided her from side to side.

  “Relax,” I coaxed. “This isn’t some test. This is supposed to be fun.”

  “I’m trying.” Her muscles felt hard, her back as straight as a ruler.

  I rolled my eyes. “C’mon! This is Queen.”

  “I’m not a dancer!”

  My lip twitched as I recalled the way her body had moved above mine, rolling so gracefully that it’d bring a belly dancer to her knees. “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “I’m serious. You know when my mom let me pick between playing an instrument and taking ballet at four years old, I knew even then I was as uncoordinated as they come. I wouldn’t let myself go through that torture then, so why should I go through it now?”

  I bowed my head forward with a frustrated intake of air, catching a whiff of her body spray that smelled as if she had just stepped out of the shower. My forehead brushed against hers and I allowed it stay there for a brief second before I pulled back. “Let’s do something different.”

  “Like what?”

  I narrowed my eyes, once again becoming mesmerized with those cute little specks in her eyes. “First off, I need you to try not to think about dancing so much.”