By Tuesday night, I was a wreck. I’d practiced the band music until I had it perfectly memorized, but I could tell it was heavy and dull. I’d spent all day at school on Monday and Tuesday discussing semi plans with my friends, and getting more and more worried about the afterparty.
My only hope was to have my parents ban me from going, and it almost worked. Mom had freaked because the semi was the night before the audition, but Dad had been like, “She needs to go.”
I mean, yeah, great, because that meant he’d accepted I wasn’t going to the audition, but man! I didn’t want to deal with that afterparty! On the other hand, it wasn’t like I could say no. I’d barely ditched my loser rep. If I bailed on the party because I didn’t want to go, then I’d be right back to loserdom again.
And Rafe. Ugh. I couldn’t deal with seeing him. Total embarrassment.
I’d thought about canceling our Tuesday-night “date.” I even picked up the phone to call him once. But in the end, I couldn’t. And it wasn’t just the thought of seeing him. It was his promise that music could be fun. I had to know if he was right.
Rafe was five minutes early. I saw his Jeep pull up, and I jumped off my bed and raced down the stairs, yanking the door open just as he was raising his hand to knock. He looked startled. Crud. Now he knew I was watching for him. I blinked in feigned surprise.
“Rafe? I was just going outside to check the mail. Is it time already?”
He nodded, his eyes scanning the outfit that I’d spent three hours picking out. A short skirt, my Uggs, and a black top that showed off my sunburn from the pool party and my navel ring. His gaze lingered on my stomach for an instant, and I felt myself heat up.
“Belly-button ring?” he asked. “You don’t seem the type.”
Oh…I was so going to melt under that look. Especially since he looked so hot in a pair of black jeans, a black T-shirt, and black boots. He was wearing a black leather jacket and his hair was a little messy. He was also wearing a knotted leather necklace with a metal horseshoe. My parents would freak. Bad boy all the way. I grinned. “Don’t tell my parents about my belly-button ring.”
“They don’t know?”
“Nope.” I tied a sweater around my waist. “See? It’s hidden.”
He grinned. “Such a rebel.”
“Hey, you told me to blow off adults, right?”
“Mmm…”
“Mom!” I shouted. “Rafe’s here! We’re leaving!”
“Hang on!” A pot clanged in the kitchen, and then my mom walked out, wiping her hands on her jeans. Dad was right behind her. Mom eyed Rafe, her gaze sweeping over his outfit. “So, you’re Miss Jespersen’s nephew.” She sounded skeptical. Why not? He didn’t exactly look like he had Crusty’s uptight blood running through him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He shook her hand, and then my dad’s. “Rafe Turner. Nice to meet you both. I won’t keep Lily out too late, and I have a cell phone with me if you need to reach us. I can leave the number if you like.”
My dad raised his brows at me and I felt my cheeks heat up. Rafe was acting like the perfect date. Like he was trying to impress my parents.
My mom’s face softened and she smiled. “Yes, a phone number would be great.”
“No problem.” He took a pen and paper from my dad and jotted it down. “The show goes until ten, so we should be back by ten thirty. Is that all right?”
Show? We were going to a show?
My mom frowned. “It’s a little late for a school night.”
“What show?” my dad asked.
“We’re going to a piano bar.”
A piano bar? What was that?
“Oh.” My dad put his arm around my mom, a strange smile on his face. “No problem. Have fun.”
“We will.” Rafe shook their hands again and then held the door for me.
Twenty minutes later, Rafe knocked on the side door of a bar in downtown Boston. A bar! We were actually going to a bar! And my parents had agreed! “Aren’t we going to get in trouble? It’s not like we’re twenty-one.”
He grinned. “It’s not that kind of bar.”
Right. It was a piano bar. I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of that….
The door was opened by a gorgeous woman. She wore a black silk dress and high heels and exuded class and sophistication. She smiled at us, her eyes bright but a little wary. “It’s so good to see you, Rafe.” She reached out and hugged him, but I saw Rafe tense just before she grabbed him.
Who was she?
She looked at me. “And who’s your little friend?”
Rafe put his arm around me. “This is Lily. She’s a piano player. Lily, this is my mom.”
His mom? As in the one who’d ditched him? No way.
“How lovely! Maybe she’ll play for us tonight.”
I froze. “Um, sorry, but I’m retired.”
The woman smiled and touched my cheek, in the same way Rafe had done. “Of course.” She stepped back. “Come on back. The doors won’t officially open for another twenty minutes, so feel free to wander around.” She trailed her fingers through Rafe’s hair, giving him a sad look; then she turned and strode off into the back of the club.
“Sitting up front’s best.” Rafe cleared his throat and started walking through the club.
There were tables everywhere, with little candles in the middle of each one. And along the sides of the room were black pianos. Five on each side and two grand pianos at the front. They were on risers, so they were a couple feet off the ground. The ceiling was pretty high and sort of curved, with all sorts of wooden carvings. Very interesting and unique, actually. “What is this place?” I asked, relaxing slightly.
“You’ll see.” Rafe sat down at a table in the second row, right in the middle. “This is my favorite table.”
I sat next to him, and scanned the room. There were people running around, shouting and getting things organized. It was a frantic kind of energy, but not a bad one. Sort of excited and fun. One guy tossed a bundle of napkins over our head, and someone else caught it and sprinted off, hollering at another guy. I smiled. “This place is cool.”
“Yeah.”
A woman in a maroon vest and white shirt came over and set a couple waters, two sodas, and a plate of veggies and chips in front of us. “Good to see you, Rafe. It’s been a while.”
“Thanks, Rosie.” He grinned at her.
As he picked up his drink, I eyed him. “You come here a lot?”
He shrugged. “I used to. My mom and dad own the place, so it’s basically where I grew up.”
I inspected the room more carefully. This was Rafe’s parents’ place? “Where’s your dad?”
“Probably hiding out back. They try to avoid each other, since they can’t be in the same room without screaming at each other.” The bitterness in his voice made me look back at him, but he was glaring at something invisible on the stage. “I stopped coming when this place became a war zone.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t imagine my parents fighting like that. Rafe’s shoulders were all tense and his jaw was clenched. Without thinking about it, I touched the back of his hand. “That sucks.”
He glanced at my hand on his, then looked at me, without moving out of my reach. “Yeah, it does.”
“How long has it been since you were last here?”
He flipped his hand over so his palm was against mine, and curled his fingers through mine, his thumb rubbing on my palm. “Since the day they told me they were getting a divorce. About eighteen months.”
My hand felt so warm in his. Just, like, perfect. “That’s forever. Didn’t you miss it?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t want to come here and watch my parents scream at each other.”
“I can see that.”
We fell silent for a moment, and I watched a woman fix a bouquet that was on the stage between the two pianos. “So, how come you’re here now?”
“Because I wanted to bring you here.”
“Oh.” I was going to die, but I forced myself not to gape at him. So I looked around, suddenly realizing that the room was filling up with patrons. It was getting loud and rowdy, and people were laughing and having fun. Then I sat up and stared at the woman across the room. She was wearing jeans and a sparkly red top, and she was talking to Rafe’s mom. Laughing with Rafe’s mom. She almost looked like…
“Rafe? Is that your aunt?”
He followed my glance, then nodded. “Yeah, she’s a regular here on Tuesday nights.”
“Really?” I watched her as she turned to an attractive older guy wearing jeans and a polo shirt. She said something to him to make him laugh; then she tucked her arm through his. “She looks so normal. I never thought of her as having a life outside of the music school. Is that her boyfriend?”
“Yeah. He’s a firefighter.”
“No way! Crusty’s dating someone who gets dirty for a living?” Unbelievable. How could this be the same woman who tortured me daily?
“I told you, she’s pretty cool. She’s the one who gave me permission to get a tattoo. My parents never would have.” He turned toward me suddenly and leaned on the table, his hand still around mine, like he’d forgotten about it or something. “I have to ask you something.”
I felt my throat tighten at the intensity of his expression, and I immediately put Crusty out of my mind. “What?”
“On Sunday, were you asking me to go to your semiformal with you?”
I pressed my lips together. What answer did he want? “I…”
“Isn’t your boyfriend going with you?”
“Well…”
Rafe was still waiting for an answer.
Crud. What should I say? I mean, was I going to admit I’d lied the whole time?
“Don’t you have a date?”
“Well, I guess, but I just said yes last night because, well…”
Something glittered in his eyes. “You really did ask me.”
“No.” I snorted and pulled my hand free. “I was just asking in case I needed to ask later. Like if my date got run over by a bus or something.”
“You really think I’d fit in at a semiformal for St. Mary’s?”
I looked right at him. “You’d fit in anywhere you wanted to fit.”
He gave me a long stare.
I shifted under his gaze. “What?”
“Does your boyfriend go to Inverness?”
Here was my chance to tell him Les wasn’t my boyfriend. But what was the point? He just took Paige out last night. She wasn’t fake and I didn’t want Rafe to reject me. I lifted my chin. “Les is a sophomore there. Plays lacrosse.”
“Ah. A lacrosse player.” He gave me a speculative look. “I wouldn’t think you were the type to be into a lacrosse player.”
I’m not. “What’s my type? You?”
He blinked. “What? Why would you say that?”
Oh, God. Had I really just said that? “Yeah, you’re the nephew of the woman put on this earth to torture me. My dream guy.”
His gaze narrowed. “You judge me for being Aunt Joyce’s nephew?”
No. I think you’re perfect. Like I could say that. “She hates me.”
Rafe frowned. “She doesn’t hate you.” He looked around, then leaned forward until his lips were only an inch from my ear. “Don’t tell my parents, but she saved me when they freaked out, Lily. She’s tough, but without her…” He paused and I looked at him. His face was so close to mine, all I’d have to do is lean forward and then our lips…
Then I noticed his eyes. They were so sad. So incredibly lonely.
I touched his cheek, and he grabbed my hand and held it against his face. “Without her, I’d have lost it. Give her a chance to help you, too, Lily. It’s all she wants to do.”
I tried to understand what he was saying. She had talked my mom into giving me a break from lessons, and she was here tonight, right? Besides, if Rafe liked her, then she had to be okay, didn’t she?
The lights suddenly dimmed and Rafe’s mom walked out on stage. “I’d like to welcome you to our traditional Tuesday night Battle of the Ivories.”
Rafe and I turned toward the stage, and I felt Rafe lean back in his chair and rest his arm over the back of mine. Probably because it was more comfortable like that. Not because he was making a move. Right. It was good I was going to the semi with Les. Whatever it would take for me to stop thinking about Rafe.
He squeezed my shoulder to get my attention, then winked at me. “You’re about to see how fun piano can be,” he whispered.
“Impossible,” I whispered back.
Then I heard a furious burst of music from my left and I spun around. A guy in black leather and a mohawk was at the piano, thrashing at the keys. It was the most amazing music I’d ever heard—fast and frenzied and crazy. I listened in shocked awe. Then he slammed the final chord, and before it had faded, music jumped at me from my other side.
The whole crowd spun back to the right, where a woman in a navy suit started in at another piano. “Wow! She’s amazing.” I leaned past Rafe, trying to get closer to her.
He grinned and rested his arm across my back as I leaned over him. “Just wait. It gets better.”
“No way.” And then just like that, she stopped playing, and music started up on my left side. I whipped around again, and the spotlight was on the first piano. There was an old guy with gray hair pounding away at the keys. He stood up, dancing and swaying as he charged through his song, power exploding from his body and from the music.
Then he stopped and the second piano on the right was lit up. I nearly fell on top of Rafe in my effort to see who was playing, to catch a glimpse of whoever was next. “That’s your mom!”
Rafe was playing the piano on my back, tapping his left foot in beat with the music. “Yeah. She’s good, huh?”
“Unbelievable!”
Then the music burst from the other side and I spun around again. “I’ve never heard piano like this! It’s like they’re talking to each other!”
“That’s why it’s called the Battle of the Ivories.” He nudged me and pointed to the sandy-haired man pouring out the music. “That’s my dad.”
I bounced on the edge of my seat. “No wonder you’re such an amazing musician! You’re descended from greatness.”
He glanced at me. “You think I’m amazing?”
“God, yes! So much better than anyone else at Mueller-Fordham!” I spun around as the third piano on the right started playing. I leaned across him again, letting the music consume me. It was fast and energetic and raging with power. It was alive! All of it! People were shouting and clapping and cheering and some were even on their feet. Because of piano! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw even Crusty jumping up and down and shouting. “This is so amazing. Incredible. I can’t believe it!”
The instant Rafe’s dad finished, I jumped to my feet with half a dozen other people and started applauding like mad, even as the next pianist leaped into the fray. Rafe stood up, cheering loudly as well. He grinned at me. “Having fun?”
“This rocks!” I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him, my body vibrating with excitement. More people jumped to their feet when the next pianist began to play. “This is the best night of my life!”
His arms went around my waist and suddenly I realized what I was doing. I was hanging on to him. I pulled back, but he didn’t let go. And then we were staring at each other, his arms holding me against him, my fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. All I could do was stare at him, my heart thumping.
For the longest time, we just stood there, in the midst of all these people. All I could think is that I wanted him to kiss me more than I’d ever wanted anything in my whole life.
His gaze dropped to my mouth, and my stomach did a triple flip. Was he really going to kiss me? Right there? In front of all those people?
Then he cleared his throat, dropped his hands from my waist, and stepped back.
I immediately yanked my hands out of his hair and clenched my fists at my sides.
We stared at each other for another long moment, and then we both shook it off and turned at the same time to face the pianist who was currently playing.
There wasn’t a single touch between us the rest of the night—not even an accidental one. But it was still the best night of my life.