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She nodded.
“Why are you sharing it with me,tesoro?”
Her chin lifted slightly and she blinked like she didn’t understand the question. “Because I trust you to tell me the truth,” she said simply.
He bit down on his lower lip and shook his head slowly. “It’s incredible,” he said honestly. “I can feel the story taking shape in the sound.”
Her eyes brightened and she beamed at him. “Yeah?” Like she was surprised.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, his smile spreading across his face. “You got anything else you want to blow my mind with?” he asked.
She swallowed down the last of her wine and set the empty glass aside. “If I have your attention, I will use it,” she confessed unashamedly. She didn’t wait for a response before launching into a completely new song. This one a little slower, a little brighter. Still extraordinary.
He finished his wine and laid down on the floor, letting her music wash over him. She played three or four more things, each one a gift. Maybe it was the buzz from the wine, maybe he was just intoxicated by her absolute breathless talent. Maybe it was just the nearness of her, the joy and peace that she gave so freely. He didn’t know the cause, he didn’t want to know. But a thought drifted through his mind, unencumbered and subtle.
Slow like progress and wanted like a kiss,
Your eyes are a gift,
that hurt as much as heal…
His mind swam with words and phrases. Some in order, most not. Apprehension and joy curled in his chest as he realized what was happening.
Without asking, without pushing, without even knowing, Zara had unlocked that sacred door in him that he’d forgotten about. Behind which he’d boxed up all of his hope, trust, and words.
What was the opposite of an existential crisis?
“Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d even closed them, to find dark gold ones staring back at him.
Zara had put down the guitar and joined him on the floor. She was up on her knees with a concerned frown dipping her black eyebrows.
“Are you drunk?” she asked, narrowing one eye. “Do you need a designated driver back downstairs?” She blinked. “Or I guess you could just take the elevator. That would make more sense.” She sat back on her heels. “You gotta watch out for the wine. It sneaks up on you.”
He chuckled, lacing his hands together and putting them behind his head. “Not drunk. Just enjoying the moment.” He watched her eyes flick over his body and back to his face. She blinked at him and he knew he wasn’t supposed to have seen her do that.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Anything you want,” he replied easily. He’d learned that Zara’s questions could range from silly and innocent to deeply personal. He’d also learned that he could trust her with whatever answer he gave. Even if it was a non-answer. She just accepted it at face value.
“Can I touch your beard?” she asked seriously, her lips twisted to the side.
He barked a laugh, surprised by her yet again.
“Why?” he asked, still chuckling.
She huffed. “Because I want to know what it feels like. I’ve never touched a beard before.”
He narrowed his eyes at her very open and honest expression and thought about the men she’d dated.
“None of the men you’ve been with ever had a beard?” he asked, trying to remember if he’d ever seen Logan with facial hair.
She rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Ace. You’re smarter than that. Just because I’ve been photographed with someone doesn’t mean we dated. The only guy I’ve ever been with is Logan.” She stuck out her tongue and gagged. “And he never even tried to grow facial hair.”
She’d only ever been with Logan? He felt two things in that moment. One, jealousy like he couldn’t fucking believe that Logan had ever touched her. And two, shame for even questioning her in the first place. She didn’t lie to him. She’d never even stretched the truth.
“Go ahead,” he said wiggling his shoulders like he was bracing himself. He closed his eyes and tipped his chin a little higher. “Touch away.”
