She grins back at me. “Sure. I guess.”
“Good. Let me get dressed. We can stop at the diner for waffles on the way.”
I could kick myself for not figuring out this music thing sooner. My niece is a different kid standing in front of a wall of guitars. She’s spent the day locked in awed silence like a prophet receiving sacred instructions.
“Here, try this one,” I say, plucking a low-end Martin from the wall.
“It’s fifteen hundred dollars!” she hisses, backing away. “Shouldn’t we start with one of those?”
I almost laugh at her fear to touch the Martin. “No niece of mine is playing a guitar that comes in a box with a starter kit. Just sit and see how this feels.”
“But…”
“Naomi? Sit.”
She grunts and drops to a stool nearby. I fish a pick out of my pocket and help her arrange the guitar on her lap like it’s a newborn baby. She still seems hesitant to strum it.
“You played my Taylor just fine this morning,” I point out when she lifts those big green eyes to me.
“Because it wasn’t fifteen hundred dollars,” she hisses.
“Nope, that one was five grand.”
She coughs out a choke, and I shake my head with a grin. “Just play, kid. You’re gonna love it.”
Her fingers tentatively rest on the strings as she gazes down at the instrument. She finally strums it a few times, a smile slipping out. No smile on my lips, though. Ouch. When’s the last time this thing has been tuned?
“Hey, let me see that for a sec,” I say, reaching for it.
She hands it over, and I balance on the stool beside her. After tuning it as well as possible by ear, I launch into “Unforgiven” to test it out for real. It’s got a warm, full tone with a comfortable body for flat-picking and finger-picking. Since we don’t know what kind of artist she’s going to be yet, I like that she’ll have the flexibility to play what feels natural to her.
“Hey, you’re pretty good,” a man says, approaching.
I glance over at the employee and smile a return greeting. “Thanks,” I say, handing the guitar and pick back to Naomi. “Just checking out guitars for my niece.”
“Duh, he’s a rockstar. That’s why he’s good,” Naomi interjects, and my gaze snaps to her in surprise. She shrugs with a smug smile at the employee’s reaction, and I can’t help but grin as well. Is she bragging about me?
“Oh yeah? Cool,” the guy says. “What’s your band?”
“Still working on a name,” I say, cringing inwardly at how ridiculous that sounds. The guy gives me a pitying nod that says oh, you’re “that” kind of rockstar.
Naomi glares at him, probably noticing his less-than-impressed reaction. “He just started a band with Viv Hastings. She used to be Genevieve Fox but now she does kick-ass rock. Ever heard of Genevieve Fox?” Naomi quips, and I bite my tongue to keep from laughing. At least I’m not the only victim of her snark.
Based on the man’s face, he’s heard of Genevieve Fox, one of the biggest popstars in the world until last week. He clears his throat and leans down to inspect the guitar in her lap. If I had to guess, he would have been happy to pick up a dust ball on the floor to avoid another blast from my niece.
“Ah, that’s a good guitar. You’ll like that one,” he says to Naomi. “Is it too big, though? You want to look at the three-quarter scale models?”
Naomi’s brow scrunches and she turns to me for clarification.
“I don’t think so,” I answer for her. “She can handle a full-sized guitar. What do you say, Naomi?”
“Is that what this is?”
I nod.
“Is that what the Taylor you have is?”
I nod again.
“Then I want a full-size.”
The man forces a smile and tilts his head toward the front of the store. “Okay, great. Well, I’ll be over there if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Dave. Appreciate it,” Naomi says, focusing back on her guitar.
I snicker as Dave slinks away, clearly not sure what to make of us. Yep, that’s my girl. Without looking at her, I lift my fist into the space between us. She taps it with hers.
“Hadley?”
I pull open the door, confused by her presence. Okay, and a little embarrassed. And a little turned on because, let’s be honest, last night was fucking horrific and weirdly hot. She left after our short exchange in the kitchen, just in time for her soft touch to fizzle into nothing instead of exploding into a trauma-induced moment we’d both regret. I wasn’t prepared to see her again so soon, and definitely not with Naomi in the grandstand.
“Hey! You came!” my niece calls from the couch where we’d been seated with our guitars. Huh?
Hadley offers a sheepish grin, carefully avoiding my gaze as she hovers in the doorway. Is she blushing? “Naomi texted me and invited me over after work. She said she had a surprise?”
My hand clenches around the neck of my own guitar as it dangles at my side. This can’t be real. They’re texting besties now? Our first lesson was going so well. Our entire day, really. These last hours have been a fantasy after the nightmare of our first month together. Why’d Naomi have to ruin it?
“Oh. Um. Okay. Come in,” I say, stepping back so Hadley can enter.
She might be avoiding my eyes, but I can tell by her pause and open scan of everything else that she wants to say more. Maybe do more with the way her gaze stalls on my stomach and sinks lower. A spark of awareness fires through me. Memories of her hands on my skin. The odd mixture of fire and compassion in her eyes last night. I’m wearing an undershirt, but it doesn’t feel like it the way she’s studying me. My searing gaze finds plenty to admire right back beneath her typical sweats that look even cuter today.
I swallow hard and glance at Naomi who’s back to concentrating on her guitar. Could this situation be any more messed up?
“Thanks,” Hadley says, slipping past me. It’s like she goes out of her way to avoid even the slightest contact.
But her eyes tell a different story when she scans my face. Heat. Sympathy. Did she just cringe?
“Ouch. It looks worse this morn…” She stops when I shoot her a warning look, her voice more nervous than I’m accustomed to. She’s always so sure of herself. Well, sure of her hatred of me, anyway. Last night messed up a lot of things in our little world.
“You want something to drink?” I ask.
“Water would be great,” she says.
“How’s Viv? Did you see her today?” Naomi calls out as Hadley moves toward the living room and I head to the kitchen. My view is slightly obstructed, but I can still hear them clearly.
“Just for a little bit. I mostly did scheduling and paperwork today. She’s spending some time with Oliver.”
“Her boyfriend, right? He’s a goalie for the Trojans?”
“Yes. He’s been out all season with an injury and will finally get a chance to practice skating again tomorrow. He and Viv are really excited.”
“I bet. Oh! Want to hear an E-minor chord?”
“I’d love to.”