Staccato (Magnum Opus #2) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,66

but Nik shook his head, staying his protest.

“You heard that CD, remember?”

And Adam was jolted back to the few nights prior, to the strange, ethereal sounds coming out of Nik’s CD player. The impossible music, the impossible notes, the impossible tempo. Compared to what Nik had played earlier, he could see why Nik would be disappointed.

“Do you really want to write music like that?” Adam asked him.

Nik hummed in thought. “No, not like that. But I want you to hear what it sounds like when I put pieces of my soul into it. That shit I wrote before, that garbage, there was nothing of me in there. Just…notes.”

“Okay,” Adam said. He resolved to listen, to truly listen and not just hear perfection simply because it came from Nik. His friend—the man he was in love with—deserved at least that much. “Let’s hear it.”

Nik chuckled, then leaned over toward a small table and began to run the tips of the fingers on his right hand over the sheets laying there. “It’s still fresh,” he explained. He cleared his throat, then straightened his back, and it was like he transformed into something else.

Suddenly, the lounge pants and the t-shirt were as elegant as a three-piece suit. Suddenly, the bed head and dark circles were just part of a performer on stage with music pouring from his fingertips.

Nik rocked from side to side at the first draw of notes. They were dark and rapid, almost angry. And then they cascaded higher, and Adam swore that the sounds wrapped around him and dug in fingers and began to pull threads of emotion like they were unraveling him from the inside out.

His throat went tight when he realized he could feel it, that the song meant something. This was nothing like he’d played before. It was messy. It was raw. It was Nik’s version of standing inside Damien’s basement and just letting his screams strip himself bare until there was nothing left but bones.

When the music ended, a sort of soft trill that faded into the air, Adam realized he was leaning forward, almost straining, like he was trying to reach Nik. And Nik was sitting still now, shoulders heaving like he was out of breath, his face tipped down toward the keys.

The moment felt fragile, like an over-inflated balloon, and Adam was terrified to say anything at all.

“Nik.” Jay was first to break the silence, and it was necessary, Adam realized. It needed to be him.

Nik spun on the bench, dragging a hand down his face before letting out a puff of air. “It’s not finished.”

“I know,” Adam said—and he did. He didn’t fully understand this music, but he heard where there was space left. “But it was perfect anyway.”

Nik made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, then stood up. “I need to…don’t go anywhere,” he stammered. He left the room, clipping the low table with his hip, bashing his shoulder into the door.

Adam had never seen him out of sorts like that before. He always walked with a confidence Adam had never questioned, so it had to be bad if he was losing his composure in his own space.

“He’s alright,” Jay told him, a warm hand landing on his arm. Adam hadn’t realized he’d half risen from his seat until Jay’s grip urged him back down. “He’s struggling with some stuff right now.”

Letting out a sharp breath, Adam looked at the empty doorway, then back at Jay. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

At that, his friend laughed. “That’s something I’m not going to touch with a ten-foot pole, man. But for what it’s worth, I think you two will be alright.”

It was all the answer Adam really needed. He carefully dislodged himself from Jay’s grasp and rose. “I think I should go after him.”

Jay sat silent for a moment. “Then I should go home. Will you be good for a ride later or…?”

“Yes,” Adam said. He didn’t care how he got home. He’d walk the seven miles if he had to. All he knew right then was that he needed to find Nik and make this right. Enough was enough. They were in each other’s orbit. There was no stopping it. They would either crash together or fall apart, but Adam knew something had to be the catalyst, and this moment—this moment was it.

Jay left the room first, and only when Adam heard the front door close did he find the courage to put one foot in front of the other. He