Staccato (Magnum Opus #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,65
dressed more casually than Adam had ever seen him—a pair of lounge pants hanging low on his waist, pooling at his feet and almost dragging. His t-shirt was white, thin, and smeared with what looked like faded blue paint like he’d been working with a roller some years back.
His hair was mussed, and he looked exhausted, but his smile was easy as he approached. “I just got up,” he said, tugging at his shirt. “Migraine.”
Adam winced in sympathy. “You okay now? You know we don’t have to do this, right?”
“I could use the company,” Nik told him. They hadn’t talked much apart from good morning texts and the occasional random thought during the day. Adam knew he was busy with the school, and with his students—and likely with trying to avoid Adam until the weirdness passed.
The night they spent together didn’t help, and Adam had felt guilty about sneaking off after Nik fell asleep, but he had never called him on it. They just…went about their business after that, as days passed and distance between them grew. Adam had a sudden realization that the choice might be out of his hands anyway.
“Long week?” Jay asked. He extended his hand, but instead of a fist-bump, he held out a flat palm, and Nik took it, giving him a shake.
“Why do you…” Adam started, then stopped.
When Nik laughed, Jay frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“He wants to know why we shake hands instead of fist-bump,” Nik told his friend, then shrugged. “I’m terrible at them. I miss, and it’s embarrassing.”
Adam flushed along the back of his neck and rubbed at his heated skin. He didn’t dare look at Van, whose gaze he could feel on him, and he cleared his throat. “Makes sense.”
Nik let out a tiny sigh, like he could tell it was getting awkward, and he turned toward the stairs. “Van, are you joining us?”
“I think I’ve heard enough of your banging around on that thing for a lifetime,” his brother said. He walked down the hall, and when he disappeared through the kitchen door, a more relaxed silence fell.
“He’s not usually that much of a dick,” Jay said as he followed Nik toward the stairs.
Nik shook his head. “He’s right. My dad’s…not doing well this week, and things are tense. And I have a feeling his job is getting the better of him. I warned him not to work from home full-time, but he didn’t listen.”
“Well, he’s not exactly a people person. I think the last time he tried, it was that New Year’s party Connie threw and…” Jay trailed off when Nik laughed.
“Yes. He wasn’t invited back for a reason.”
Adam smiled, but he was profoundly aware in that moment the two of them had a lifetime of knowing each other when he had only been there a blip in time. He was nothing to them—a town lodger that never planned to stick around and make a life. And the judgment wasn’t wrong.
“I think it’s mostly my dad,” Nik finished as he opened the door to the practice room and let Jay in. It was well lit with soft yellow lamps, and the two chairs that had rested under the window last time he’d seen it were pulled closer to the piano. “We knew this was coming, but…he’s been sleeping a lot.”
Adam winced and looked at Jay who was jutting his chin toward the seats. “Do you, like…want a hug?” Adam offered.
Nik looked startled, then opened his arms, which surprised Adam to his core. He didn’t think—after everything—Nik would be open with affection that way. But he also wasn’t going to turn down being in Nik’s arms, even if it was temporary, even if it lasted less than a moment. He held tight and breathed him in, and felt like he was home.
“Thank you,” Nik murmured against the side of Adam’s head. Nik’s lips grazed his temple as he pulled back, and Adam fought down a full-body shiver. “Go ahead and sit. I don’t know how I feel about this piece, but I’ve been working on it for a few weeks, and it… I can’t say it’s missing something. It just sounds unfinished.”
“I don’t know shit about this kind of music. You know that, right? I mean, you hated the spring concert, but I thought your playing was amazing,” Adam reminded him.
Nik offered a soft grin as he situated himself at the piano. “My playing was flawless, but the music had no soul. You know the difference, Adam.”