The Only Song (Only You)

32. Jaxon

Chapter 32

Jaxon

I pull Sadie up the brownstone steps of my home with a shy smile. Nerves ripple through my veins even with her warm fingers in mine. For some reason, there’s an ache in my chest that hovers on the teetering edge of doubt.

God, I hope this doesn’t scare her.

My place isn’t haunted. It’s just massive. It’s extravagant, even for me. But when you’re single in your twenties with an over-the-top salary, sometimes rational decision making goes out the window. In my case, a large bay window that looks out over the street.

Sadie’s jaw drops, her hazel eyes wide with shock as she takes in the facade. Her eyes settle on me with buzzing excitement, but my nerves don’t ease. You’d think I was taking her home to meet my parents with how nervous I am, but really, there’s no one in the home but us.

“Come on.” I tug her fingers lightly as I unlock the double doors and welcome her in.

“I knew you were rich, Jax, but holy shit. ” Sadie drops my hand as it flies up to cover her mouth. Her eyes track over the hardwood floors, brick walls and black banisters already making her way up to the second level.

“You have bookshelves ?” she yells over the stairwell rung. “In the walls ?”

I climb up the stairs after her with a sheepish smile, shoving my sweaty hands in my pockets. But watching her rifle through my things is entertainment in itself. Dainty fingers over colored book spines. Strawberry lips parted as she flips through scores of music. Smile so bright it crinkles her eyes as she oohs and aahs over my vinyl collection.

“Oh my god, this is sheet music. And here I thought you’d memorized everything that you wouldn’t even need these.” She smirks over her shoulder.

“Well, Sass, I need to read them to memorize them,” I reply. She spins away from my music library and stops short in the living room. Her gaze tracks over the high-ceiling red brick wall that fades into a whitewashed brick at the fireplace.

“ Wow, ” she whispers. She tours my living room like a museum, taking in every item like an art piece. The tan brown leather couch worn into perfection. The mahogany desk in the corner covered with books. The instruments hung up on the wall beside a hung line art of Beethoven I got from some guy on the street.

But Sadie’s drawn to the spectacle before the bay window. My Steinway grand piano.

Sleek and shiny, like a black mirror paired with a leather pleated seat. Her fingers lightly run over the ivory keys from the highest octave to the lowest and it rings out in the space.

“I can’t believe you live here.” Her voice is barely a whisper, filled with awe. If she likes this, I can’t help but wonder what she’d think of my house at Bluewater Lane.

I say the first thing that comes to mind. “It’s better now you’re here.” It’s better wherever she is.

I walk towards her with my hands out. Once her hands slide in them, I spin her around in a twirl, then pull her to my chest.

She giggles with delight, her voice music to my ears. “Are you sure you want me to stay?”

I press a soft kiss to her rosy lips. “As sure as ever.”

I want to ask her for more. I want to ask if she could imagine living here, or rather, living with me.

But it’s too soon.

I let the thought float in my mind even though in the five minutes she’s been here, the place feels warmer than it’s ever felt in years.

“I’ll go unpack!” she says cheerily, plopping a kiss on my cheek. I point upward so she knows the master bedroom is upstairs, and she bounds away with a bright smile.

When she returns, she joins me on the couch, her red hair pulled back in a lazy bun that looks sexy and adorable, then instantly snuggles me as we rifle through channels to find a movie. Midway through the Rom-Coms list, my phone pings. I pass her the remote to keep looking and tell her to pick whatever she wants.

Mason

I have a referral for you nearby.

I grumble. I know he means well and I should see another physical therapist, but every minute I have is spent either in rehearsal or with Sadie and I don’t want to give up either.

“Have you seen this movie?” she asks cheerily. I look up to see a long title I don’t recognize and shake my head.

Sadie and I haven’t broached what happens after the tour. Each minute feels closer and closer to an end or a new beginning, and if I dwell on it too long, my mind only spirals. I type back quickly to Mason.

Jaxon

Thanks

Send it over

If I reject it, he’ll only push harder.

Sadie rambles on beside me excitedly. “Oh my god. It’s a three-part movie that was actually a book series. Should we marathon it?”

I’ll do whatever she wants so long as it’s with her.

“Whatever you want, babe.” I kiss her forehead and smile. She beams up at me.

I toss my phone to the side to wrap my arm around her, but it vibrates again.

Mason

Are you really going to go?

I stew silently, ignoring his message. It’s annoying that my cousin knows me so well and as much as I’ve been avoiding the topic of Sadie leaving at the end of the tour, I’ve also been avoiding the topic of what happens to me and my career after this tour.

There’s no doubt the aches are really settling in. My shoulder feels impinged, on the verge of some nerve damage I bet, and the numbness in my fingertips is becoming more common. Sadie’s massaged me in the times I’ve needed it, oftentimes it also leads to me massaging her until she’s screaming my name the way I like, but the question looms over my head. Can I keep playing professionally?

Mason shoots over the referral even without my response. I give him a thumbs up and turn on the ‘do not disturb’ on my phone. All I care about is the next six hours watching something about all the boys some girl loved before.

Time will tell the outcome of my career. All I hope is that Sadie will still want me if I’m not the musician I set out to be.

Midway through the week, Sadie collapses on the couch after one of our late rehearsals. A movie plays in the background but she’s so tired, she knocked out on my chest within a minute. She smells of rose and vanilla and her and every once in a while, I lean my head against hers or trace circles on the back of her palm. Her lips twitch in her sleep and I don’t know how I went through life without moments like these. Moments without her. It’s barely been four days and yet it feels like it’s been forever between us and I never want it to end.

Her soft breaths warm my forearm as I smooth her red hair with my other palm. She stirs but doesn’t wake, so I pause the movie and lean her over a pillow to go make us some food. Knowing her, she’ll wake up hungry. She’s always had quite an appetite for home-cooked meals.

I scour my pantry for whatever ingredients can make a full meal, keeping quiet to not wake her. Luckily, I have what I need to make ramen and won’t have to go out to the store and leave Sadie alone.

Cooking with my mom was something I always enjoyed growing up. I wasn’t big on anything outside of music, so if I wasn’t practicing, I was learning a new dish to make.

I check on Sadie from across the island. Pink lips softly pursed. Crimson waves over ivory skin. Wearing my sweater with nothing but panties underneath.

I feel like the luckiest guy. The room feels brighter with her in it, and I’ll bask in its warmth for as long as I can.

Fifteen minutes later, I hear a rustle behind me, but I’m too busy on the stove to turn around.

Sadie’s soft voice rasps from behind me, thick with sleep as she yawns. “Mm, something smells good.”

I smile as her arms wrap from behind me, still stirring the homemade ramen I made for us.

“Ramen. Not the instant noodle kind,” I say to her. She chuckles, then leans up to kiss my cheek and settles in on an island chair.

I pull out two bowls, settle our noodles in them and pour the fresh broth over each one. Carefully, I carry them over to the island and slide Sadie’s to her with a smile. “For you.”

She blushes adorably, tucking her chin as if she’s shy. “Thank you.”

She takes in the soup’s fragrance. Her hazel eyes flit close as her lips spread wide. Pride swirls in my chest. I want to capture her smile and keep it in my back pocket. Charmed doesn’t cut just how in love I am with her.

“How did you know I like noodles at midnight?” she teases, taking a sip of the broth and moaning with delight.

“I took a guess.” I smirk, sipping on my own broth.

She chuckles softly. “I knocked out, didn’t I? I wasn’t expecting Bert to have me practice your solos today.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. I knew Bert was going to ask her because I told him. I still sat in the Concertmaster position for rehearsal, but I’d made the suggestion after I woke with a knot in my shoulder and my fingers cold and numb.

It’s been about a week since Mason sent me the referral, but I still haven’t gone. The pain has been dull up until a change in the repertoire that added an even faster solo my tired arms can’t quite keep up with.

“Are you okay?” Sadie pipes in. She pulls her hair back into a low, messy bun and it exposes her collarbones and neck in a way I want to pepper kisses all over it.

I squeeze her thigh beside me with a tight smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Her eyes narrow disbelievingly and we sit eating our soup and noodles in quiet for a few minutes. But I feel her gaze hot on my cheek soon enough and she asks gently, “What’s wrong?”

Her hand reaches to mine and wraps her fingers in them. The nervous thumping in my brain dulls a bit at her touch.

“Jaxon. You can tell me.”

I know I can, but saying it aloud makes it feel even more daunting. Not knowing whether or not I can keep my career shatters me in a whole new way. I don’t even know how I’d fix myself.

I swallow hard. It’s not that I’m hiding it from her, it’s that I don’t want her to worry. I don’t want to burden her with my injury, that my arms flare the moment I wake up, that I’m not sure I can do any of the New York solos. I don’t want to imagine not being with her in the stand. She’s the only reason I’m making it through rehearsals. No matter how I feel, being with her is still the best antidote for the pain. She relaxes me in a way nothing else can in the world, not even music.

I squeeze her hand and whisper, “I’m not who I used to be.”

Her brow pinches. “What do you mean?”

I shift in my seat uncomfortably. My other hand stirs the noodles in my soup to avoid her gaze. “I’m not the performer I used to be. And it scares me. My violin teacher used to always tell me he hated prodigies because they’d burn out. I always worried that might happen to me. Over the years, I became consumed with wanting to make sure that it wouldn’t happen. I practiced and practiced for hours to prove I was perfect like everyone calls me. Now, I’m starting to wonder if it came with a price.”

Her hand slips out to rub over my shoulder and I squeeze her thigh again in comfort.

“It’s been years since I moved away from my family and friends. I live in a home that feels more like a brick cave than comfort. I reached my dreams before I turned thirty and now it feels like… like if I can’t go on, then who am I?”

I turn to her then. Her hazel eyes are round with worry, but her lips tilt into a small smile. I know she’s trying to be encouraging, but the insecurity runs deep in my veins.

She rests her chin on my shoulder, and I lean my head against hers.

“You’re whoever you want to be, Jax,” she says softly.

“I don’t know who I want to be. This is everything I worked for. This is all I ever dreamed of.”

She turns to press a kiss to my temple. “There’s more to life than just music, Jax.”

I sniff, bringing her fingers to my lips to kiss lightly. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

But I don’t.

I don’t know who I am outside of music.

I don’t know what career or life I could envision if I’m not performing.

I don’t know if Sadie would still want to stay with me when this tour ends. If my career ends.

All I know is when she wraps up in my arms at night, it’s when I’m most at peace. But can I ask her for a life full of that?