The Only Song (Only You)

41. Sadie

Chapter 41

Sadie

I t was instinct to text him, second nature, the faint memory of our deal replaying over my mind as my fingers were pulling up his number.

There’s no one else who could possibly help me with this. No one else I’d want beside me.

I haven’t played violin for two whole months aside from showing techniques to the new kids I teach.

Basically, ever since the tour, I stopped playing for myself again.

I never realized how freeing it felt to play music that I wanted to play. The tour was for a great cause, kids who attended felt inspired. Some of the ones I teach even ask me to show them songs or pieces we played and I love it. I love teaching. I love performing. I love inspiring.

My heart races when a door slams shut, followed by the chime of a car locking. Gravel crunches outside my window, then my phone chimes.

Tanner

Here

Nervously, I grab my mirrorball violin case along with my handbag and meet him out front.

Jaxon stands at the edge of the walkway, bathed in sunlight. It glances off the tips of his jet black hair and sharp nose to warm the chocolate brown of his eyes and the sight of him makes me halt at the top step.

Breathless. Jaxon Tanner makes me breathless.

Rounded shoulders under a fitted black t-shirt, veiny forearms and tan skin. He spins his keys in his hand nervously, his foot tapping impatiently on the pavement. When he stretches his neck, I want to kiss the smooth skin there. My heart stutters as I blink back the urge.

“Hi,” I say, breathier than normal.

“Hey.” He smiles, and my body ignites. The stutter step in my heartbeat returns. I want to run over and throw myself in his arms. I want to run my hands through his silky hair and feel the press of his soft lips. I want to breathe in his smell of cedar wood and mint and Jaxon and just stay there, wrapped up in him.

But I don’t yet.

I ran away the last time we saw each other, and I was the one who left two months ago. The fact that he’s here after all that makes my chest ache.

“Thanks… for coming on such short notice. I was hoping you hadn’t left yet,” I say.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ll be leaving anymore.”

Hope lights, a flicker of its flame deep in my core. But I don’t pry into what that means should that hope turn into a fire in me. I nod and reel my mind in to focus on the matter at hand—the audition.

“I need to practice. I… I haven’t auditioned in a while. I know we just did the tour and solos, but it just feels like… like…”

“Like your mind is blanking?” he answers. He finishes my train of thought like he’d always done. He always seemed to know me better than I knew myself.

“Yeah.”

He tucks his hands in his pockets and eyes me softly. “Do you want to practice here or someplace else?”

“Oh god, not here. Sloane’s napping and she gets grouchy when she wakes up. It’s kinda why I messaged you. Do you know a place?”

His mouth tilts, and my body heats in response. “Let’s go.”

The room Jaxon’s staying in is neat with one bed looking out into an open driveway, a simple oak desk and chair with hand-painted art on the walls.

“Xander’s not home at the moment, so it’s just us,” he says, pausing at the door. “I can… leave the door open if you like.”

My heart picks up a notch, even as I say, “It’s okay. You can close it.”

The door clicks shut. I feel my breath held in my throat. For a moment, we simply stare. My hazel on his burnt umber. It’s silent except for the hammering of our hearts—or my heart, at least. It pounds in my ears almost deafeningly.

It’s the first time Jaxon and I have been alone in a room together since the day I left.

All the words I want to say fly up to my chest, but don’t make it past my lips.

I’m not ready to say it yet . I’m not ready to tell him I love him.

Jaxon breaks the silence first. “So, how many pieces do they want to hear?”

He moves to sit on the bed. My eyes drag with him, magnetized to his every move. Only my violin case separates us as we sit on either side.

“Two. An allegro and an adagio, ” I reply.

“Easy.” He grins.

I shoot him a glare. “For you maybe. I’m a little inexperienced here.” I wince at my tone. “Sorry. I’m just… nervous. ”

Jaxon isn’t bothered. He eyes me with cool intrigue, like he’s examining the most exquisite museum art piece or if I were an ancient score of music inked by J. S. Bach. His lips part and I can’t help the way my eyes drop down to it.

When he stands, my heart races. He reaches toward me and goosebumps rise on my arms in anticipation, the heat of him so close my thighs clench, but instead, he unlatches my case.

When the lock unclasps, it sounds like the snap of a rubber band, the tension between us just as taut. I wonder if he wants to touch me as much as I want to touch him. His head dips close to mine, and all I have to do is raise my arm.

But we can’t. That’s not what we’re here for.

He prepares my violin for me. His eyes admire the wood in the sunlight. Long fingers work to clamp the shoulder rest on. Then pluck at the strings to check their tune.

Jaxon’s never touched my violin before and seeing him revere my sixteen thousand dollar instrument compared to his trust fund piece is laughable. But I’m not laughing. He looks at my violin the way he looks at me. With passion. Warmth. Love.

My heart clenches. He really does take my breath away.

“Is there something wrong?” I ask as he unclasps my bow, eyeing it up and down. “Does it need a repair? I haven’t been to a violin shop recently. I know I’m overdue for a service, but I’m?—”

“Your bow has a turtle shell design.” I look down at the base of my bow where Jaxon’s fingers wrap around the turtle shell frog, sunlight glinting off the gold knob we twist to tighten the bow hairs.

“Y-yes,” I stammer. “I thought it was pretty. There’s also pearl on the bottom.”

“Beautiful,” he says, looking at me.

“Thank you,” I whisper. A shiver rolls down my spine and my throat tights as he passes me my bow and violin.

“You already know what to play.”

“I do?”

He steps away but the heat and warmth sliding in my insides doesn’t dissipate, it ribbons through me with silken delight as he turns back and smiles crookedly, a dimple popping.

Jaxon takes a seat on the edge of the bed and pulls out his phone. His fingers slide over the screen, but all I can think about is how it would feel sliding around me. Up my ribs. Over my breasts. Through my hair.

God, I want to touch him. And I want him to touch me. This was a bad idea. I can hardly focus.

But then he clicks play. The room fills with light trills and arpeggios, and the edges of my lips tug into a smile. Jaxon’s gaze is filled with so much passion and warmth that I can feel my body light up with it, my eyes softening at the molten core of his .

“Be a lark, Sadie. You already are one.”

He pauses the recording of The Lark Ascending and I pick up right where it left off, letting my eyes flutter close and the music consume me. My fingers run over the strings expertly, my breath rising and falling, the notes mimicking the birds’ flight and song, ease and morning, love and light.

This piece has always been my favorite.

It’s my heart in song.

And Jaxon knew.

When the solo ends, my eyes slowly open to meet his. He smiles warmly, eyes tender, deep chocolate brown melting .

My heart fills and swells to its fullest. My cheeks warm under his bright adoration.

Then he says, “Incredible, Sadie. You’re incredible.”

And my heart bursts into fireworks at his pride.