Write or Wrong (Common Threads #9)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

brOKEN SONGS

ZARA

She couldn’t stop thinking about Bruce Springsteen.

Being born and raised in Jersey and having a dad with a blue-collar job meant that The Boss was never far away. She knew his songs almost as well as she knew her own.

And a motorcycle ride through middle America had triggered a specific desire.

The house was quiet. Cas and Devan had left. Asa had dropped her off and gone somewhere else. He didn’t say where and she didn’t ask.

She took a shower, put on a pair of black sweatpants and a thin white tank top, and poured herself a glass of white wine.

On the second floor of the house, just off the dining room, was a room with a grand piano. It was also where Asa had set up the guitars he’d brought when he’d moved in. The sun had been down for a while and she turned on one side lamp on the far side of the room.

She walked slowly around the room, looking at all the instruments Asa owned in the various stages of wear. It was obvious which ones were favorites. Or had been.

Her heart pinched when she thought about how he didn’t seem to do that anymore. Aside from the couple of times she’d heard him play through his bedroom door, she didn’t think he spent time with music at all. Not the way he used to. Not the way this collection said he once had.

She finished her wine and set the glass down on the table by the light she’d turned on. Then she went to the piano and took a seat. She’d lived there for over a month but hadn’t messed with the piano yet.

Growing up, they’d had a small upright piano in the living room where her dad had taught her to play. He’d taught her every Springsteen song he knew. She’d always believed it’s where her love of songwriting had come from. The way the story unfolded with the music, how it pulled at her soul and gave sound to the undefinable things in her heart.

Music had been and always would be magic to her. How could it be anything else?

Her fingers found their place on the ivory keys. It had been a while but after a couple false starts, she felt it come back.

She let herself get lost in “Thunder Road,” remembering the ride in the sun that day with Asa, the times she’d played this song for her dad while he’d pretended not to cry, the constant and dependable friend that music had always been to her. No matter what she was going through, how clouded her emotions, she could find rightness in the music. Belonging.

That’s all she wanted to do for everyone else. She shared her music with the world because she didn’t want anyone to ever feel alone.

Coming to the end of the song, she opened her eyes, not realizing they had closed.

The first thing they saw was Asa, standing with a shoulder to the doorway, hands in his pockets. A gentle look at his face.

He’d changed his clothes since their ride. He must’ve showered again because his hair was wet. He had on a pair of navy-blue sweats and a gray muscle tank that showed off his heavily tattooed arms.

Drool. Worthy.

Not that she was a drooling type of individual. But if she had been, whoo buddy!

Taking her hands off the keys, she tucked them between her knees and gave him a small smile.

“I didn’t know you were back,” she said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard ‘Thunder Road’ sound quite like that,” he said, voice rough. He took a deep breath. “You are…” He rolled his lips inward and shook his head once. “Something else.”

She snickered, her gaze drifting back to the keys before her. “I used to play for my dad. He actually taught me how.”

“And he taught you using Bruce Springsteen?”

She nodded. “Jersey, remember? So it was a lot of Springsteen and quite a bit of Bon Jovi,” she added with a chuckle.

“Yeah?” He took a step into the room, coming straight toward her. He slid onto the piano bench with her, his hip and thigh aligning with hers. “Let me hear some Jovi.”

She puffed a soft laugh, feeling abnormally self-conscious. But she rested her hands on the ivory again anyway.

He bumped her shoulder with his. “What you got in there, Baby Boss?”

She snorted but started to play “Thank You For Loving Me” anyway. “I played this at my dad’s wedding to my stepmom.”

She’d always loved this song. Though at the time she’d first learned it, she hadn’t understood it. Not in the way it was meant to be understood. She’d been a child and had no concept of romantic love. But again, the magic of the music was undeniable. Just because she hadn’t understood it, didn’t mean she couldn’t feel its weighty significance.

And now, as an adult, as someone who had loved and lost and loved again, she understood the gratitude that would come along with someone loving her as she was.

As she pounded through the chorus of the song, she wondered if that was even a real possibility anymore. Maybe she was simply meant to be the catalyst for other people finding love.

That was a noble accomplishment too, she supposed.

Her fingers flew over the keys, seemingly on their own. She barely had to think about the song, she’d played it so many times.

When it was over, she rested her hands in her lap again and let the silence have a moment.

“Wow,” Asa murmured by her side.

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Your turn.”

“Uh, what?” He tried to play stupid.

“Just play something for me, Ace. Don’t overthink it.”

He hummed and his fingers tested the keys. He shifted on the bench and she moved down so he had more room. He slid right up beside her again, their bodies touching.

“How about something I grew up on?” he asked, starting a song that sounded vaguely familiar. “This is Chicago’s ‘Hard to Say I’m Sorry.’ Though I’m not sure I can do it without singing. It’s a force of habit. So if my voice offends, just pretend like you can’t hear it.”

Goosebumps raced across her shoulder blades.

Asa’s voice was smooth and warm and soft. It grew in confidence as the song progressed and she couldn’t help but think he was singing this song to music itself. Making promises to make it up, to fix it, to come back because he wasn’t complete without it.

She swiped at the tear that had dropped onto her cheek and swallowed.

The hurt and pleading in his voice pierced her sternum and settled in a space between her breasts.

I knew it.

She knew that his avoiding music went deeper than the surface. For some reason he no longer felt deserving of the love and acceptance she’d always found in music.

More tears joined the first and she didn’t swipe them away for fear he’d notice her movement and stop. She let them run freely, feeling every chord, every note, every desperate plea he poured out into the piano and into the night.

All the times she’d sat in a room with Logan helping him work on a single or an album and she’d never been moved to tears. Which said a lot because she cried easily. She was a person who kept her emotions close to the surface where they were effortless to access and get overwhelmed by.

The song ended, and they sat in the silence for a beat. Asa took a deep breath and let it out.

She rested her head against his shoulder, lending her warmth to whatever brittleness he was battling inside.

“Why did you quit the piano bar?” she whispered.

His body tensed. He cleared his throat and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer.

“Because it made me happy and I didn’t deserve it.”

A wave of sorrow washed through her but she didn’t move from where she was. Even though everything in her wanted to wrap her arms around him and cover him in peace.

“I thought if I played small it wouldn’t matter. No one would get offended. But then…” He swallowed. “No one knows I quit the piano bar. Not Nikki. Not my dad. No one. If I try to explain it, it’s going to sound bad. And Nikki especially will try to fix it and she has way too much going on in her life. She doesn’t need that kind of pointless drama.”

“What happened?” she asked softly.

Beneath her head, his shoulder sagged. Not with relaxation or relief, but with fatigue. Like he was tired of holding onto whatever it was he wasn’t saying.

“It’s so stupid,” he muttered. “Almost immediately after those pictures of you and I together hit the internet, Shelby started harassing me.”

“Shelby the singer from Winking Pete?” she asked to make sure she knew exactly who he was talking about.

He hesitated but then said, “Yeah.”

From the little Zara knew of Shelby she already hated her. Maybe it wasn’t fair. But maybe it was only natural to be protective of her circle.

“How was she harassing you?”

“Texts, emails, phone calls. I had to private all of my socials. I was afraid she’d show up at the bar next. Shelby has a way of making a spectacle. I panicked and quit. Because I knew if she found out I worked there, she’d try to get me fired at the very least.”

Shelby sounded like she needed a cooter punch.

“Have you thought about getting a restraining order?” Zara asked carefully.

He made a noise that was part groan part growl. “That’s where it gets tricky.” He rubbed his palms on his thighs. “Taking out a restraining order on my sister would absolutely cause family drama. And there’s already enough of that to go around.”

Zara stopped breathing. “Your sister? ”

He glanced down at her with a frown. “I thought you knew that.”

She sat up slowly, her pulse thundering in her ears. She shook her head.

He studied her face for a beat. “I guess I assumed Nikki told you.”

All of it made sense. It hadn’t exactly been a secret; she’d just never put all the floating pieces together. He had told her he didn’t speak to his sister. All the times he’d talked about Shelby made so much more sense. Why he was still hurt by her actions. It had seemed too much to be an ex or even a friend but what did she know? She was still navigating life after Logan. Maybe it took longer to heal for some people.

“Your sister? ” she repeated, thinking of all the things that had been said about Shelby. “She broke Nikki’s arm?”

Asa licked his lips and nodded, wariness entering his expression.

“Why?” she finally asked because it was the loudest word echoing in her head.

“Why what?”

Had he shifted away from her or was she imagining it?

“Why…?” Zara blinked, her mouth opening and closing again and again because no words would form. All she had was anger and confusion and what she thought might be vengeance all pinging around in her brain like a hyperactive pinball machine.

Since the NMAs she’d had the distinct impression that he was hiding. Hiding his gifts, his talent, his obvious passion for music. She’d stupidly thought he was just bitter about the band breaking up. But bands broke up all the time. Most successful bands had gone through several facelifts over the years as they fought for their place in the industry. Being a musician was a hard life. It meant having to risk your heart again and again with zero guarantee that you’d ever find your audience.

And he’d had a taste of what could be and his sister had been the one to fuck it up?

“She’s not even that good!” Zara blurted.

Asa’s head cocked to the side in question.

“Sorry,” she said, realizing she wasn’t making sense. “I’m just so mad.”

Oh, she was going to text Gregor as soon as possible and send Shelby a basket full of dildos. Ugly ones.

Asa slid to the end of the piano bench and stood up. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” He paced across the room. “Can we not talk about it?”

Whoa. What just happened?

Zara turned her body so she could see him better. Clearly agitated, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the side of his hand.

“I don’t understand,” she confessed, her mind still a whirling mess of inexplicable outrage and details all trying to connect.

“Listen, I know…” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow. “I know it shouldn’t get to me and I know I should be able to move past it. I get it. I really do. I just don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

But he really should talk about it. And he should talk about it with her.

Because if anyone understood, it was her.

“Asa,” she said softly. His dark eyes cut to hers, wary and tired. “There’s not a statute of limitation on betrayal.”

His eyes narrowed and he put his glasses back on. He hadn’t left the room or cut her off. So far so good.

“Shelby sucks,” she said.

His lips twitched.

“No, really. I was just mentally making a list of all the horrible things I want Gregor to send her. I’m so…” She closed her eyes and clenched her hands into fists in her lap. “ Enraged . I had thought Shelby was an ex or something—” His eyes widened in horror and she held up a hand. “But sister makes it so much worse. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

No wonder he’d shut down and cut off contact with everyone.

She’d essentially done the same thing, hadn’t she? She’d shelved an album, canceled all appearances, and hidden away in a city where no one would look for her. The one big difference was that she had run to music for comfort and Asa hadn’t felt like he could do that.

It broke her heart.

“Is that why you never texted me back?” she asked.

His mouth pulled to the side.

She puffed a humorless laugh. “I thought it was because you had a girlfriend.”

Honestly, she would have preferred he had a girlfriend over the reality. Somehow this was so much worse.

“Shelby hurts people I care about,” he said, voice rough.

It felt like he was telling her something important. Something she really shouldn’t miss, but it was moving too fast and she couldn’t quite pin it down.

All she could think about was the injustice of it all. Asa had so much talent, and he felt he had to hide it to keep that pesky little cockroach from contaminating every area of his life.

Bet the holidays are awesome , she thought bitterly.

But she’d already gotten him to share more than he’d planned. Follow up questions would be held until later. Or pitched to Nikki.

“What if…” She flexed her hands, open and closed, changing tactics. “What if we just do this every once in a while.” She touched the piano keys. “Just mess around with music. It…it helps me.”

He eyed the piano suspiciously and his gaze drifted to the unmoved guitars sitting around like gravestones.

“I won’t tell anyone you touched an instrument,” she said, testing a small smile.

His gaze cut to hers, but there was a hint of good humor lurking in there that hadn’t been a moment before. His lips twitched, which she took as a good sign.

“Promise?” he asked.

She pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key. His lip twitch turned into a tiny smile and somehow that made her feel like she’d just won a massive victory.

One she wouldn’t take for granted.