The Sound of Us

Chapter Fourteen. “Wonder” by Shawn Mendes

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Wonder” by Shawn Mendes

SKYE

“ Avoidance…” Haley read from her online psychology textbook, raising her voice above the clatter in the fast-food restaurant where we’d met for our weekly Thursday lunch. She’d managed to find a booth at the very back with windows overlooking the dumpster-filled alley. A perfect metaphor for my life.

“… the practice of keeping away from a particular individual named Dante because of the anticipated negative consequence of such an encounter or having anxious feelings about talking to him because he’s so hot.”

I put down my soda and glared. “It does not say that.”

“But it does sound like you,” Isla said, laughing. “You haven’t gone to the radio station since Tuesday when Dante serenaded you and turned you into a pile of mush.”

Sometimes Isla’s teasing cut too close. Noah was flexible about time so long as we put in the requisite hours, but I had been avoiding going to the station and I couldn’t put it off any longer. The reality was that I was afraid to go back. Dante had made me feel things I wasn’t ready to feel.

“You weren’t even there. And he didn’t turn me into mush. He played guitar and sang a moving song. I was moved. That’s what happens when you hear a moving song.”

“What part of that involves running away?” Isla tipped her head to the side and lifted her eyebrows. Seriously. She was being so annoying.

“I didn’t run away. I had a class.” I raised my voice over the rumble of the garbage truck backing into the alley.

Isla lifted a knowing eyebrow. “You told me that morning the class had been canceled.”

“I was worried I might have missed an email that it was on again.” I shoved three french fries in my mouth at once so I didn’t have to answer any more irritating questions. Skye likes Dante. Skye likes Dante. It was like being in middle school all over again.

“I think she’s definitely showing avoidance,” Haley said. “Dante makes her feel anxious feelings.”

“Why don’t we talk about Isla and her bartender. Yet another one-night stand.”

“Deflection.” Haley grinned as she scrolled through her screen. “‘ To avoid uncomfortable feelings associated with a man who turned her into mush, the deflector will try to move the focus from herself to a friend named Isla.’ Guess who is rocking her psychology course? I might just declare that as my major.”

“I’m not deflecting,” I grumbled. “I’m just pointing out an interesting fact. And you should return that online textbook because it’s full of lies.”

“Do you know what’s interesting?” Isla asked. “The part of the ‘avoidance’ definition about anticipating negative consequences. You’re afraid of getting hurt if you let him get too close.”

“Do you know what’s not interesting? Being psychoanalyzed by my friends when I’m just trying to have a meal.” I shoved the last few bites of my burger in my mouth. I’d avoided hamburgers when I was training. Red meat. Cheese. Carbs. All the bad things. I had missed out on so much.

I stared out the window watching a truck driver empty the dumpster as I scrambled to think of a new topic of conversation so they would stop talking about Dante. After a few minutes, the driver and his partner jumped out and proceeded to empty the blue plastic recycling containers into the truck as well.

“Look at that.” I pointed out the window. “They’re putting the recycling in with the garbage. If you want to talk about something worthwhile, talk about that. It’s criminal behavior.” My dad had been obsessive about separating recycling from garbage. One item in the wrong container and we lost our television privileges for the night.

Haley scrolled on her phone. “Let me read that ‘deflection’ paragraph again.”

“Or better yet, tell Dr. Haley how your last two boyfriends were dicks and cheated on you.” Isla stole a handful of my fries. “That would make anyone wary of getting involved in a relationship.”

“I’m not interested in being in a relationship with anyone, and especially not Dante, who showed up at the station with two women and then tried to add me to his harem with his siren song,” I snapped. “He knows my weakness is music. He knows he has a voice that makes people swoon. He played me.”

“Or maybe it was heartfelt,” Haley said. “One of the reasons his show is so successful is because he is genuine with his listeners. He asks them to share their pain and gives them the music to express those feelings.”

Haley was right. I listened to Dante’s show every night and it was authentic and real and deeply emotive. But it was easier to think that he was trying to manipulate me than to consider the alternative. I’d had two failed relationships. I’d spent my life trying to get into the WNBA and I hadn’t even come close. I’d tried to make my father happy and instead he’d died angry and bitterly disappointed after I’d told him it was likely I was going to be cut from the college team. I couldn’t take any more rejection and I couldn’t make any more mistakes.

“I have to go. I don’t want to be late for work at the station, which, by the way, I am not avoiding.”

Haley walked with me around the building, and we cut through the back alley. One of the restaurant workers was outside talking to the truck driver. I thought I saw something change hands, but it happened so fast I figured it was just a handshake.

“If you need help overcoming your avoidance problem, I can help.” Haley grinned as we parted ways for opposite ends of the campus.

“I can’t avoid Dante,” I said. “He’s effectively my boss.”

Chad was standing in the hallway with a clipboard and a pen when I arrived at the station.

“Nick asked me to manage the hot dog stand,” he said. “I’ve been able to get everyone to sign up for a shift except Dante.” His mouth turned down and he gave me a sad puppy dog face. “He likes you. Maybe you could get him to sign up. Even just for an hour. I’d like to have a hundred percent success rate.”

An image of Dante and Molly all cozy on the couch flashed in my mind. “He doesn’t like me.”

“Skyyye.” He whined, but with a smile. Chad didn’t seem to have an unkind bone in his body. He was a ray of sunshine in an otherwise dreary world. “I’m a guy. He’s a guy. I know how guys act when—”

“Stop.” I held up my hand. “Don’t say it. I’ll ask but I’m not making any promises.”

Chad grinned. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Hey, interns,” Siobhan shouted down the corridor. “Stop gabbing in the hallway. The microphone in Studio A is broken. Dante’s going to the storage room to get another one. You should go with him, so you know where it is.”

“I’ve got a class,” Chad called out. “Otherwise, I would have loved to be of service.”

“Laying it on a bit thick there,” I whispered.

His laughter made his eyes crinkle. “That’s what the girls say.”

“Ew. Chaaad.” I mimicked his earlier whine. “Don’t. Just… don’t.”

“Skye, you go with him,” Siobhan called out from the doorway of the studio. “I’m pretty sure Dante keeps his coffin down there, and since he’s been wandering around in the daylight, he probably needs to recharge. I hope you make it back alive.”

My heart skipped a beat when Dante walked out of the studio. I hadn’t seen him in two days, and it suddenly felt like forever. Had he been that gorgeous on Tuesday? Was that why I’d been frozen in place watching him play?

“Are you ready for an adventure, buttercup?” Dante seemed all cool and relaxed, like he hadn’t poured his heart out in a song only to have me bolt from of the room like a startled deer when Molly sent a message anyone with half a brain could understand.

“Is there something about this storage room I need to know?” I looked back over my shoulder as I followed him away from the stairs and down a dimly lit hallway. “Do we need supplies? A headlamp? Hardhat? Pickaxe? Should I leave a trail of breadcrumbs?”

“Officially, we’re not supposed to be down here.” Dante pushed open a metal door to reveal a dark, narrow hallway. “The building was built in 1906 and the foundations are crumbling, but we ran out of storage room and the university wouldn’t give us any extra space. Noah only lets a few people down here and no one is allowed to go alone in case the walls cave in.”

I lifted my gaze to the exposed beams and pipes in the ceiling, then to the cracked concrete walls and stained, uneven floor. My pulse kicked up a notch and it became difficult to breathe. “I wouldn’t do well if there was a cave-in. I can’t handle small spaces. Maybe you should take someone else…”

The overhead lights flickered on and off. Dante looked up at the ceiling, a frown creasing his brow. “Or, was his concern ghosts…? I can’t remember.”

“Jerk.” I punched him in the arm, and he gave a chuckle.

“I’m kidding. It’s old, but it’s still safe. I wouldn’t bring you down here if it wasn’t.”

“Good to know you’re not the type of guy to put innocent interns at risk.”

“What is your type?” he asked over his shoulder. “You said it wasn’t me, so…”

“Sports guys, I guess.” I didn’t have anything to lose by being honest. “My dad was very controlling when it came to my free time because my focus was supposed to be on basketball. He would only let me date other athletes because they understood the lifestyle—going to bed early, waking up at four or five in the morning to practice, watching what I ate, no drugs or alcohol…”

“Sounds dull.”

“He didn’t want me to date at all,” I said. “He thought it would distract me, but my mom was worried that I’d miss out on high school experiences and wouldn’t… know things when I left home.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “So, your mom wanted to pimp you out?”

“That’s not—”

“I’m just messing with you,” he said. “So, sports people. What are they like? Never had one myself.”

“Usually, the only thing we had in common was sports.” I bit my lip considering whether to share. “I only had two serious boyfriends—one in high school and one my freshman year—and they both cheated on me, so I’m kinda done with the whole relationship thing.”

“They were idiots.”

My stomach tightened, expecting some kind of quip, but he wasn’t laughing. “Yeah, they were.”

“What about musicians,” he said lightly. “Ever date one of those?”

I bit down on a smile, grateful he was walking ahead and couldn’t see me. “I heard they have huge egos. I don’t think we’d fit.”

“Good thing I’m humble.”

“This underground space is amazing,” I said as we made our way through a maze of hallways. “From the outside you’d never realize there was so much down here.”

“Most of the buildings on campus have hidden rooms and passages. When I first started at the station, Noah told me all about them. He found out about them from the previous station manager. The engineering science building has a hidden tower that can only be accessed through one of the libraries and the arts building has a theater under the existing theater that nobody uses. I’ve visited them all.”

Before I could respond, he stopped in front of a red steel door. Someone had taped a handwritten sign on the chipped paint that read, Abandon all hope. WJPK storage , and beneath, in small letters, Vampire lair . He turned on the lights as we walked in, and the door closed with a bang behind us.

“Sorry,” he said when I jumped. “The doorstop has been missing for years.”

I breathed in the scent of stale air and moldy paper as I looked around. Boxes filled with electronics, torn posters, old cassette tapes, CDs and magazines littered the floor. Metal shelving units lined the walls, stacked with more outdated technology. As I moved farther in, I saw tables bowing under the weight of old computers and printer parts. No coffin in sight.

“Isn’t it too damp down here for some of this?” I pulled out a 1980s edition of Rolling Stone magazine with a picture of Guns N’ Roses on the front cover.

“We ran out of space in the music library.” He searched through one of the boxes. “Noah prioritized keeping the vinyl upstairs. Even though everything is available digitally, he is reluctant to get rid of this stuff.”

“That’s such a shame.” I rifled through the box of magazines and pulled out one with Nirvana on the cover and another featuring Pearl Jam. I held up one in each hand. “Best grunge band of all time?”

“Pearl Jam, of course.”

“Seriously?” I put the magazines back in the box. “I can’t believe someone who shares my love of music wouldn’t appreciate the genius that is Nirvana.”

“I can’t believe the words that are coming out of your mouth,” he retorted. “I think I might just have to leave you down here with nothing but a CD player and Pearl Jam’s greatest hits until you come to your senses.”

“You won’t get a chance to leave me down here because I found the microphones we were sent to get,” I said, spotting the box on the shelf overhead. I put my phone on the shelf and went up on my toes to reach it.

“Don’t move.”

I froze, precariously stretched with my fingertips on the box above me. “What’s wrong? Is it a spider? I’m not afraid of spiders. Mom and I always used to carry them outside if we found them in the house.”

His voice cracked, then roughened. “It’s not a spider.” He came up behind me and reached for the box. His chest pressed against my back, flooding my body with warmth.

“Did you think I couldn’t get it myself?”

“I don’t care if you can get it yourself. You look…” He trailed off, leaning closer, so close I could feel the heat of his body, the brush of his arm on my hair. Electricity crackled in the air between us, making my skin prickle.

“How do I look?” I glanced back over my shoulder. He hadn’t moved, one hand planted on the box above my head, the other only inches away from my hip. His eyes burned into mine and I couldn’t stop the stream of images in my mind: Dante pinning my hands to the shelf. His hand sliding across my stomach and down…

“Like something out of a dream.” He brushed my hair over my shoulder, his lips gently skimming down my neck.

The lights flickered again. I heard a pop and crackle and then the room was plunged into darkness. My heart pounded and for a moment I was back in the crumpled car with my father unconscious beside me.

Shouting. Yelling. Blinding snow. Tires squealing. Bright lights. Big noise. Darkness. Pain.

“Skye?” Dante wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tight against his chest, bringing me back to the present. His voice was quiet, faint, as if he were far away and not right behind me. The thinly veiled panic in his voice overrode the fear that had frozen me in place.

“What happened?” I picked up my phone and turned on the flashlight.

“I think we blew a fuse.”

“I guess we should go and report it.”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded so wrong, I turned in his arms so I could see his face, my hands moving to his chest to steady myself.

“Are you okay?” I looked up but could barely see the glimmer of his eyes.

“Not a fan of the dark.”

I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. “I totally get that. I associate bad things with the darkness, too. Some happened when I was young, and I blocked out the details. And there was the night of the car crash. I was trapped for hours while the emergency team tried to figure out how to free me. It took a year of therapy before I could handle dark enclosed spaces, and I still have nightmares.”

“And yet here you are.” He rested his forehead against mine. “All cool and calm and comforting me when I should be comforting you.” He tightened his arms around me, and we held each other as my phone light flickered in the darkness.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered.

“I’ve got you.”

I pressed my cheek against his chest. “Your heart is still beating hard.”

“That’s because I want to kiss you right now,” he said quietly. “In a terms of endearment kind of way.”

A wave of heat crashed over my body, and I pulled back just enough so I could look up and meet his gaze. “What does that mean in the context of all the women who seem to be enamored of you?”

“This is totally different.” He cupped my jaw, rubbing his finger gently over my cheek. “ You are totally different.”

Part of me thought—no, knew—this was a mistake for so many reasons. But I did want to kiss him. Because he was my bad boy musician fantasy come to life. Because I was lost in his eyes, drunk on the temptation of him. Because for the briefest moment, he’d dropped his walls and let me peek inside at a soul as bruised and battered as mine.

“No regrets. No expectations. No promises.” I slid my arms around his neck and ragged breaths drew us together and apart.

I’m not sure who kissed who first. All I know is that his lips were softer than I remembered, velvet, his touch light, but there was a desperation behind his kiss, a need as urgent as my own. His mouth moved to my shoulder, my neck, the curve of my ear, his breath warm against my skin. I threaded my hands through his soft hair, and he found my lips again, taking the kiss deep, his tongue stroking mine, devouring the last of my resistance. A moan escaped my lips and I ran my hands down his back until I reached the edge of his T-shirt. His skin was hot, his muscles firm under my touch. I heard his breath hitch, felt his body stiffen.

“Skye…” My name came out in guttural groan as he wound my hair around his fist and took control, baring my throat to the heated slide of his lips, moving me where he wanted me to go. I fell into it, fell into him, his voice, his hold, triggering a darkness inside me, the same yearning I’d felt in the alley for something I wanted so much it scared me.

My body dissolved into his until we were one person, not two. I had never experienced feelings so intense, a want so fierce it was fire in my bones. Every part of me that had died in that car crash came alive, and my universe became Dante. His heat, his strength, his breath, his hands—holding me, moving me, driving me wild. I pressed my full body against him and felt the hard length of his erection against my hips.

His breath hitched, and he pulled back, his chest heaving in the same fractured rhythm as mine. “We need to stop. I want you, but not like this.”

My body was humming, vibrating with the curious sensation of following my own desires. “Yes, like this,” I whispered, taking a step so I could press my lips to his. “I want you.” I’d never been so forward. I didn’t make first moves. I’d been so focused on being the perfect daughter and making my dad’s dreams come true that I hadn’t had time for anything except basketball, my grades and writing for the school paper. My relationships had been entirely one-sided—more to assuage my mom’s worry that I was missing out on life experiences than anything else. My desire had been buried under a mountain of guilt. But right then, all I wanted was to be the opposite of that girl. I wanted to be free.

He licked his lips, and his brown eyes met mine, making my stomach tighten. I don’t know if he would have said yes, but before he could speak, I heard footsteps in the hallway.

“Dante?” A woman’s voice called out. “Are you still down here?”

“Fuck.” Dante ripped himself out of my arms and stumbled back, leaving me instantly bereft. “It’s Siobhan. She can’t see us like this.” He grabbed his phone and shone the light around the room until he located a box overflowing with electronics. “Grab the mics and I’ll find the rest of the equipment.”

Still stunned by his suddenly cool demeanor, I took down the box while Dante frantically tossed cords and wires into a plastic container. He had just pulled the container off the shelf when the door banged open. Light sliced through the darkness, stripping away the veil of shadows and laying bare the stark reality of our surroundings. Our intimate enclave was nothing more than a crumbling graveyard for discarded memories and broken dreams.

“Noah wants all the mics,” Siobhan said, walking into the room while Nick propped open the door. “We had to come all the way down here because you didn’t answer our messages.”

“Can’t get a signal down here,” Dante mumbled. “You wasted your time. I knew he’d need all the mics. Skye’s got the box. We need to stop by maintenance on the way back. Fuse blew again.” His cold, clipped tone was a shock after the warmth of our moment in the darkness.

Siobhan looked around the room, her gaze landing on me. “What’s wrong with you?”

My stomach tightened at what she might have seen in my face, and I tried to cover it with humor. “I thought I saw a coffin.”

Her frown gave way to a snort of laughter. “I’m just surprised he didn’t bite you.”

“You and me both.”

Nick took another box from the shelf, and we made our way single file down the hallway with Dante behind me bringing up the rear. Just before we left the basement, he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “Skye, I’m…”

“Don’t say anything.” I didn’t want to hear that it was a mistake or that he had regrets. I wanted to keep it perfect and beautiful and soul-shattering so I could pull out the memory in the dark times and remember what it felt like to feel wanted.