The clipped note had her wondering, but they’d reached the campus building, so she left it alone. Henrik moved quickly to open the door for her, ushering her inside. She could get used to being treated like this.
“What are we doing?” He followed her down the hallway as she scanned the practice rooms.
She found the one she’d reserved and yanked the door open, grinning. “We’re going to play.” The familiar scent of polish and wax hit her nose before she flicked the light on.
“We’re what?”
The questioning doubt in his voice had her glancing back. “You know—” she motioned around the practice room. “Play. Music.”
He was shaking his head before she’d finished, stepping backward. “I don’t play in front of others.”
“Well, I’m not others.” She brushed off his denial and strode across the room to open the large cabinets on the far side. “I’m Jacqui.” A glance back showed a stoic face. “Your friend.”
“Friends can be others.”
Bingo. There were two guitars in the cabinet, there for anyone to use. Good. She grabbed the acoustic one, swinging around to hold out her prize. “You can pretend then.” Determined now—and more than a little excited—she walked back to him, guitar extended. “Pluck out the notes you know as I play.” She’d bet money that any man who owned four guitars knew how to do more than “pluck out a few notes.”
He held her stare for a few tense moments. This close, she caught the clean scent of the rain heavy with the deeper hues of his cologne. A faint shadow of whisker stubble tinted his cheeks, and his eyes held a mix of indecision and doubt. Finally he reached out and accepted the instrument.
Relief hammered through her heart, but she hid it behind a confident smile and prayed this didn’t blow up in her face. He was free to walk out at any time. And why did the thought of him doing that have her stomach churning? She was going to need a box of antacids if this kept up.
He was just a guy. A new friend. A fellow music lover.
She repeated that mantra despite its ineffectiveness as she removed her coat and situated herself behind the piano. The keys flew under her fingers in a quick scale, notes soaring into the sound-proof room. She transitioned into a modern rock song and snuck peaks at Henrik as she played.
He set her backpack on a chair, ran a hand through his damp hair. His sweater clung to his shoulders in a way that had her gaze lingering on his chest and biceps. He’d be fit and toned. And how would all that power feel beneath her? Around her?
She hit a wrong key, the sour note clashing in her ears. Damn. His lip quirked, and she jerked her focus back to the keys, even though she could play this song in her sleep.
“Come on,” she urged over the song. “What will it hurt?”
His shoulders shook in a laugh she couldn’t hear. “You’re persistent.”
“I thought determination was admirable.”
He moved closer, his smile warming. “Aren’t persistence and determination different things?” He hooked the guitar strap over his head, his left hand naturally wrapping around the neck to rest on the strings.
She shrugged. “Tomato, Tamahto.”
He plucked at the strings, head tilting to catch the tone before he adjusted a peg. Every action was automatic, not that of a novice. Did he even realize he was doing them?
She transitioned into another song, nodding encouragingly for him to join in. She had no doubt now that he’d be able to. Even if he didn’t know the song, she’d up her bet that he could pick out accompanying notes without difficulty.
She was halfway through the second song before the guitar notes filtered in to mesh with hers. Her smile was instantaneous, her heart lifting with it. He was focused on the instrument, his expression loosening as he swayed to the beat. He picked out the chords in a telling visual of his skills.
She kept her observation to herself though and simply enjoyed the freedom of playing with him. One song merged into another at her lead, and he smoothly transitioned with her. They found a rhythm that skilled musicians had to bounce off each other, blending techniques and strengths.
It took a few songs for him to loosen up and find his comfort zone, but once he did, Henrik was exceptional. No hesitation or easy harmonizing for him. He moved with the music,