We Have Till Dawn - Cara Dee Page 0,16

I’d stayed in his guest room for almost two years, and not only did he not expect any rent, he said I could stay for as long as I needed. Obviously, I paid my way and pulled my weight around the house, but Shawn sure as hell didn’t.

Cazzo, the dude bothered me. For some reason, I’d always felt protective of Anthony, even when it should be the other way around. I guess it was because, unlike him, I wouldn’t be taken for a ride.

Yet, he said I had issues with a bleeding heart?

Fuck that nonsense.

I shook my head to myself and glanced—huh. I didn’t recognize the man in the back of the church, and he didn’t belong here. That was one fancy-ass suit. He didn’t sit down like the other dozen folks either; he stood near the exit and just looked out of place.

“Nicky!”

“What?” I whipped my head toward Anthony and realized I’d zoned out. “Sorry.”

He smirked faintly. “You ready to switch places?”

“Yes, boss.” I rose from the piano and met him halfway where he handed me the sheet music for the guitar, though he knew I’d improvise a bit. Music was like cooking. If you followed the recipe religiously, you weren’t using your heart.

We took a couple minutes to get ready; I plugged in my electric guitar and made sure I didn’t have to tune it again, and Anthony warmed up his fingers on the keys of the piano. In the meantime, the choir practiced their cues, and Maria and three other women positioned themselves closer to the microphone.

It was a hauntingly beautiful song, but it wasn’t the most challenging one. Focus would be on Anthony’s singing and the choir.

“We’ll run through it without stopping a few times,” Anthony instructed. “If you miss a cue, just jump in again.”

There was a murmur of acknowledgment, and I exchanged a nod with him before I took the first few notes and eased us into the song.

It was up to Nonna now. She’d hear Anthony sing about feeling trapped, about trying to find a way to settle for second best, about…well, giving up, essentially.

I let my fingers slide over the strings and glanced across the aisle. Anthony had his head bowed when he played—when he sang from his heart. It was a sign. I knew this wasn’t “just some song.” Nonna would see it too.

His voice never failed to capture my attention, and with the choir in the background, it was shivers all around. He sang of having nothing to say, having nowhere to go, and I wanted to say there was; he just needed to get up and dust himself off and try again.

The music quieted down until it was just my guitar, and that was when Anthony raised the tempo and sang louder. It was his thing. Ending one verse with peace, beginning the next with force.

The harmonies from the choir gave me goose bumps, and I looked out over the pews to see the response from the people watching. And my gaze landed on the strange man in the suit who remained standing in the doorway.

Feeling trapped…

Nothing to say…

Nowhere to go…

Anthony wasn’t the only one hiding, the only one settling.

I was an idiot. There was no way it was him.

Right?

Gideon had told me he was six-four or something, hadn’t he? He had a lot of money and could afford all things bespoke. Dark hair, brown eyes. I’d become intimately familiar with his body type. I’d heard the sound his dress shoes made on the hardwood floor in the apartment. But he wasn’t standing in the doorway of a small church in Brooklyn right now. Not after the spiel he’d given me on not sharing personal information with him.

I lowered my gaze and closed my eyes, willing myself to concentrate on the song and nothing else.

We had five or six weeks left before the concert.

My fingers itched to put words to paper.

There was a reason I was so invested in Anthony’s life, even in Gideon’s life, and I was afraid it was to distract myself from my own sorry love life. Or lack thereof.

I couldn’t worry about that right now, though.

As the song drew to a close for the second time, I opened my eyes again.

The man in the doorway had left.

Get back up, get back up again.

I hummed to myself as I prepared my, oh…third ice cream sundae for the day. I went with strawberry this time, along with enough chocolate sauce to cover the ice cream, then a