A red tainted Silence (18 page)

Once word got out about me and Nicholas ... I didn’t want to think about it. I couldn’t.

It would be easier if they never knew. If we kept what we had hidden --

Misery washed over me. I was so sick of hiding what I was. My eyes burned. I was so tired, but I didn’t want to sleep, not yet. I had to watch over Nicholas.

“Why’d you stop playing?”

I sucked in my breath. My heart pounded in my ears as Nicholas approached on bare feet, his footsteps so quiet on the wooden floor I hadn’t heard him walk in. I turned my head and eyed him. “Hey, that’s my robe.”

He looked down at my raggedy plaid robe and smiled, then pulled it tighter around him. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. Come sit with me.”

A Red-Tainted Silence

101

I sat back up and watched him as he hesitated, then joined me on the bench. He still looked sleepy, but much better. He’d had another shower, too. His skin was smooth, pale.

Flawless. He smiled apologetically. “I borrowed your razor. Hope you don’t mind.”

“You can use anything of mine. Except for my toothbrush.” He held up his finger and grinned. “I used this, at least for now. That was lovely, whatever you were playing,” he said. “Will you play some more?” Grateful for his suggestion, I nodded. I put my hands on the keys and began to play again, closing my eyes as the music rose around me, as the heat from Nick’s body next to mine infiltrated my consciousness. I continued playing, segueing into another, more difficult piece, and then another, glancing at Nicholas on occasion to see he was watching my hands with rapt attention, nodding his head slightly in time to the rhythm.

Occasionally I’d glance at him to find him watching me, his gaze hovering over my bare chest. Color flushed his cheeks each time I caught him. My heart skipped a beat when he pressed his hip and thigh against my own. The contact comforted me, though. I found myself relaxing, enjoying my audience of one.

He shifted slightly on the seat. I caught his wince and stopped.

“You okay?”

He wrapped one arm around his ribs. “Still hurts, but I’m hungry, too, I think.” He sighed. “I missed the waffles, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. I ate yours.”

“Good. You need it,” he said, touching my side, making me shiver at his touch. “I can see your ribs.”

I laughed. “You sound like my mom. Are you hungry? I can make you something.” His blue eyes looked at me with regret. “No, I’m okay. I’ll get something at work. I have to go in at four.”

“You do?” I couldn’t keep the disappointment from my voice. “You should call in if you’re still hurting that much.”

He shook his head. “I can’t. Larry’s counting on me. I close on Thursdays.” I played a scale, not wanting Nicholas to see in my eyes any more of the disappointment he’d already heard in my voice. “How late do you have to work?” I asked. I absently started to pick out a melody, my fingers picking out the song I played more often any other. Especially when I was feeling down.

“Until eleven-thirty. I don’t know how I’m going to get there, though, come to think of it.”

“My cousin will be here soon. She can take us to my car. You can use it.”

“You don’t have anything to do tonight?”

102

Carolyn Gray

I put my other hand on the keys, and Nicholas smiled as he recognized the song. His song. “No, I think I’ll probably crash until you get home.”

“You haven’t slept yet?” he asked, incredulous.

I shook my head. “I didn’t want you to wake up and think you were alone. I checked on you, made sure you were okay.”

His eyes twinkled at that. “You’re good to me, Brandon. Thanks. Your parents won’t mind if I come back? I don’t want to impose --”

I started the piece over. “You aren’t an imposition, Nicholas. I want you to come --” I looked at him, my hands stilling on the keys. His blue eyes bore into mine, then away again.

“-- back to me,” I finished. “You aren’t going back there.”

“I can’t stay here, Brandon. It wouldn’t ... it wouldn’t be right.”

“Why not?” I half turned to him, hating the small edge of panic in my voice. “My mom said it was fine --”

He laid his fingers on my arm, calming me. “I’ll come back here tonight, I promise.” His touch against my bare skin was soft, yet it burned. I stared at his fingers as they curled around my wrist for a brief moment -- skin so pale against my own sun-gold -- then eased down to my hand. He touched my fingers, then turned my hand over and touched the palm.

He traced over my skin. I wanted to snatch my hand away it tickled so much, but I stretched my fingers out instead, allowing his study, both by touch and by sight, to continue.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” he asked.

I couldn’t answer, only shake my head.

“I wanted to kiss it that day, you know that?” He looked up at me then, melting me with his eyes. “But I didn’t dare.”

“You can now,” I said, finding my voice.

Not taking his gaze from mine, he lifted my hand to his lips, then tenderly kissed the once-injured spot. “All better?” he asked, his voice soft.

I licked my lips and nodded. Could he not hear the wild pounding of my heart? It felt like it was going to burst from my chest any second. The piano bench felt hard beneath my backside, making me sharply aware just how long I’d sat there. And how just the look in his eyes was making me hard. Once noticed, I couldn’t push the throbbing between my legs out of my mind.

“It would’ve been a shame if you’d really hurt it. You play the piano so beautifully.” I swallowed, my gaze drifting down to his lips, then away again, embarrassed.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

A Red-Tainted Silence

103

Those lips would be my undoing, I thought. Every time I looked at them, I wanted to kiss them. I began to play his piece again. With a soft chuckle, he leaned in to me, then kissed my bare shoulder.

I flashed him an embarrassed smile, which he answered with one of his own. And then he began to sing. Startled, I faltered for a moment before catching up again. His voice, a little rough still from sleep, and probably from not being able to properly breathe, filled the room.

And then my heart pounded wildly for an additional reason -- the perfect harmonization of piano and voice.

Of him and me. Just as I’d dreamed it would be.

“Play it again,” he said, frowning. I began again, and when he joined in once more, this time his voice was more assured and with different inflections, a little change to the melody here and there. He closed his eyes as he sang, spreading his hands out, losing himself in the passion of his words. I nearly faltered again on my part, I was so entranced.

When the song came to an end, his voice held the last note, his eyes remained closed, and such a look of rapture glowed on his face I literally stopped breathing, my hands still on the keys.

His fans would love him.

He slowly opened his eyes and blinked as he focused again on his surroundings. Then with a soft smile, he turned to me and, in a move so smoothly orchestrated I almost wondered if he’d been planning it throughout the song, brought his hand to my face and gently turned me to face him before drawing close, his breath brushing across my cheek.

I gasped at the sudden soft insistence of his lips pressed into mine. His free hand splayed across my bare chest, his quick awareness of the wild pounding of my heart evidenced by his soft chuckle. His lips brushed teasingly across mine, asking to be let in. I opened my mouth, allowing his tongue inside. If I’d thought his kisses on this new day together would be tentative, as unsure as my own, I was wrong.

He commanded the kiss. Swift and sure he laid claim to my mouth, his lips and tongue exploring, imploring me to allow him deeper. With a sigh I relaxed, closed my eyes, breathed in the scents that were Nicholas: clean skin, soap, my shampoo. The hand on my chest began to rub in small circles, and my breath caught as his fingers found and teased first one nipple, then the other. I pulled back, wide-eyed, but his questioning smile saw me nodding my head.

I looked down at his hand on my rapidly rising and falling chest, and watched in fascination as his fingers trailed down to my stomach -- a swift look up resulted in a nod from me -- and then, making me gasp though I tried to control it, his hand rested on my swollen dick trapped in my jeans. I shifted beneath his touch, realizing just how uncomfortable I’d grown, how I yearned for him to touch me more.

“Brandon,” he said. He palmed my erection, pulling my mouth back to his. I groaned into the kiss, a shudder coursing through my body and making him laugh. “You are so adorable,” he murmured. “So untouched.”

104

Carolyn Gray

I broke away from his mouth at that, awkwardness making me blush. “I’m sorry.” He looked at me in surprise. “Sorry? For what?”

I looked down at his hand. I didn’t know what to do. “I -- I’ve never -- I didn’t think you’d want --”

A grin broke across his face. “Didn’t want what, Brandon? You thought I didn’t want you?”

“No, no, I meant -- I --” I faltered.

He reached up and cradled my face with both hands, his expression perplexed. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper as my worst fear came to the surface -- that he’d be turned off by my inexperience. “I’ve never done this. Are you sure? After last night --”

“You sweet, beautiful boy.” He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine in a gesture that over the years would be repeated between us countless times. “Last night, what happened to me, had nothing to do with us. I want you. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you fall on the ground right in front of me at the audition.” He smiled shyly.

I pulled back, shaking my head at the memory. “I still feel like such a fool over that --”

“Don’t. Brandon,” he whispered. He ran his fingers through my hair, then cradled the back of my head and pulled me close. Our lips met again, and as our kiss deepened, I reached out and smoothed my hand around his backside, finding a strangely erotic thrill in feeling my robe covering his body. He squirmed at my touch, laughing softly into my mouth. “That’s better,” he said, pulling back a little. “Just go with what feels right. Don’t be afraid.” I dropped my gaze to his hand -- it had wandered back to my erection. He rubbed my stiffness, making me groan with frustration. I dropped my head back, arching my spine, balancing myself on the bench with my hands and spreading my legs wider. I closed my eyes as his hand proved to me he knew exactly what he was doing.

“God, you are so blatantly sexy, Brandon. Does that feel good?” With my head still back, I looked at him out of slit eyes. “What do you think?”

“Take your jeans off,” he said, his voice sensual, low, making me shudder.

“Here? On the piano bench?” I said.

“I want to see you naked at your piano.”

“You want me to play for you naked,” I said, laughing as I stood and unfastened my jeans.

“Call it a suddenly acknowledged fantasy.” He reached up, covering my hands as I started to pull my jeans down, stopping me. He looked up at me. “Wait,” he said, then kissed the flat of my stomach, just above my boxer’s waistband. I shuddered at the feel of his lips there, so close --

A Red-Tainted Silence

105

The doorbell rang.

I froze, horrified, then looked at my watch. “Oh God, no.”

“Who could that be?” Nicholas said, pulling back.

“My cousin. Jonathan told me she was coming by after school.”

“What time is it?” Nicholas asked, disappointment heavy in his voice.

I gulped. “Quarter after three. Shit.”

“Shoot! I’m gonna be late!” Nicholas leaped up, gasping as his sudden movement reminded him of his battered body.

“Are you okay?” I said, reaching for him.

He waved me away. “I’m fine. I’m okay. Just forgot there for a minute.” He stood and took a deep breath, one hand on the piano to steady him. “I’ll survive.” The doorbell rang again. “I’m coming!” I yelled in irritation, yanking on my shirt.

Nicholas sighed. “Not yet, apparently.”

“Nicholas,” I admonished. Nicholas burst out laughing as the doorbell rang again. “I said I’m coming, hold on!” I yelled again as Nicholas rushed giggling from the room.

“I’ll be dressed in two minutes,” he yelled over his shoulder and disappeared down the hallway.

“Fuck,” I said to myself as I looked at my obvious erection. I refastened my jeans and yanked my t-shirt down, hoping it would cover the obvious. With a snarl I pulled open the door. “I said I was coming --”

Jenny stood smirking on the porch. “That didn’t take long.”

“Sprout,” I groaned, then turned around and walked back into the living room, leaving her to follow after me.

“Missy’s here, too,” she said as I flopped down on the couch and grabbed a pillow to hold.

“Melissa,” a voice said as its owner followed Jenny into the room. She smiled sweetly at me. I gave her what I imagined was a pretty sick smile back.

“Since when? The ‘Melissa,’ I mean,” I said, fighting to make my voice normal. I hugged the pillow to my stomach.

She tossed her dark hair from her shoulders and sighed. “I’m not a little kid anymore, you know, Brandon.” Her voice trailed off and she stared at the doorway. “Oh. Wow. It’s you.”

I turned to see Nicholas in the doorway. He had on my brother’s clothes. Blue jeans and the loudest orange and yellow shirt I’d ever seen. I winced. “I’m not sure that shirt is you, Nick,” I said.

He looked down and shrugged. “It’s what he left for me. I like it.” 106

Carolyn Gray

“You’re Nicholas Kilmain, right?”

Nicholas looked up, his eyes widening in fascination. “Uh, yeah,” he said, extending his hand. Melissa was quite stunning -- even I appreciated that fact, and apparently so did Nicholas -- a dark, exotic girl who I had actually at one time dreamt about taking out. But that wouldn’t have been fair to her -- she was Jenny’s best friend, a fact I was keenly aware of. It would’ve only ended in disappointment.

“Melissa.” She took his hand and shook it. “I remember you in that play.”