Play Mine (Brooklyn Dawn #3) - Cari Quinn Page 0,12
piano. A white Steinway.” She sighed. “First time I saw one was while shopping with my grandma. I was like seven, maybe? All I remember is this huge, gleaming, black grand piano. The saleswoman let me sit on the bench. It sounded incredible even with my fumbling.” She smiled. “My grandma started me on lessons the next week.”
“And now you’re getting one.”
“I prefer white, but yeah. I’m not even sure they could get it in my place right now.” She swallowed audibly. “Well, definitely not now.”
I reached over and covered her hand. “We’ll get it figured out.”
“It’s not your problem, Coop. I’m a big girl.”
I drew back. “Doesn’t mean you can’t lean on your friends. Just say ‘thanks, Coop.’”
She shook her head, smiling faintly. “Thanks, Coop.”
“Better. Want to grab some food?”
“I don’t think I could eat.”
“Okay.” I turned onto Columbus and headed for my building’s garage.
A few minutes later, I parked and nudged her toward the elevator. The trip to my floor was quiet. She was fiddling with her phone so I assumed she was finally replying to our bandmates.
I tossed my keys into the dish by the door in my foyer. “Do you want to freshen up?”
Tiredly, she rubbed her eyes. “Yeah, maybe. I feel gross.”
I nodded toward the stairs. “Everything is up there. I have a small one on this floor, but it’s not much more than a john.”
She gave me another one of those faint Teagan smiles that were nothing like her usual wide grins. “Pretty sure nothing in this place is small. Is the john gold-plated?”
“No, but the floor is.”
When she gaped, I poked her shoulder. “Go get cleaned up.”
“Are you sure I’m not putting you out?”
“Teagan?”
“Yeah?”
“Get upstairs.”
She sighed. “I’m going.”
I followed her up, hoping to hell my bathroom wasn’t too bad. I’d only been home for a week. I wasn’t messy by nature, but I let some stuff slide. Especially when I wasn’t expecting company.
Luckily, she went right for the tub. That definitely was clean. I wasn’t exactly a tub guy, but it came with the place and chicks enjoyed it.
“Towels in the cabinet there. One of my T-shirts okay to sleep in?”
“I’m not sure I can sleep.”
“At least try. It’s going to be a long day.”
She nodded. “All right.”
“No one wants to face Lila unrested,” I added, trying to coax out another small smile.
Nothing.
I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I also wasn’t sure I could control my-damn-self around her right now. Her big, bruised blue eyes were shattered and tired and she was pale as hell.
If I stayed in this room another second longer, I was going to do something stupid like wrap her up and take her to bed.
My bed.
And I’d gotten slotted so far up the friend lane that definitely wasn’t happening. She also didn’t need my stupid ass messing with her right now.
Time to go.
“Coop?”
I turned at the door. “Yeah?”
“Thanks for being there for me today.”
I hated that she felt like she had to thank me, but she seemed to be hanging on by a thread. “You’re welcome.”
Leaving her alone was the hardest thing I’d done in a damn long time.
Four
I wound my fingers together. Pulled them apart. Did it again.
The same nervous gesture I’d done about ten times now.
“I wish they could tell us more about the fire.”
“They will. They’re still assessing how much damage was done.”
“But if I could go over there myself—”
“It’s not safe yet. When we’re cleared to do so, we will.” Cooper stared at me across the table, his jaw set. “You don’t have to do the show tonight.”
“Yes, I do. We have a commitment. The fans are waiting on us. And it’s for charity.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to do the show.”
“Right, because no one cares about the new girl?”
“Jesus, Teag, you know that’s not what I meant.” Cooper sat back in his chair and shoved a hand through his already spiky damp hair.
He’d done that same move about sixteen times so far today, and I’d only been up under two hours. He was right about my being exhausted. I’d crashed hard.
Even after the sleep, I was still dragging. Add in the nervous buzz in my blood from knowing that soon, the rest of our band, Lila, and maybe even Lord Lewis—the Donovan Lewis, who owned Ripper Records—would arrive for our meeting, and I was a hot mess.
Minus the hot, at least physically. I wished I’d had some makeup with me at Cooper’s, but I did not. I didn’t even have my purse.