climbed the hill of her backyard, I sensed I wasn’t alone. She was already home?
Erika had been waiting for me, judging by the two glasses of iced tea that sat on the patio table. The ice inside them had melted, making the top half of the glasses look watery.
I pulled to a stop and was glad she couldn’t see my eyes behind my sunglasses. It meant I could stare. I could take in every gorgeous inch of her. She was wearing white pants and a pretty blue top, looking like she’d just come from work.
“Troy,” she said, her tone soft and warm. “Can we talk?”
I let out a breath as I considered her question. She’d told me I shouldn’t get within striking distance of her because she was dangerous, and I was starting to think she may have been right.
She could be like Coach Parker all over again, promising me everything I wanted to hear. Telling me my dreams could come true, when it was all bullshit.
But I was smarter this time, or at least older. She wanted me bad enough to wait for me, so I could hear her out. I strode toward the table and grabbed a chair. “Yeah, sure.”
She gestured toward the sweating glass in front of me. “You want some tea? I can get more ice.”
“No, it’s fine.” My tone was guarded. “What do you want to talk about?”
“You,” she said. “You told me I don’t know a thing about you, and you’re right. Can we fix that?”
My shoulders pulled back at her unexpected statement. “Uh . . . I guess.”
“How long have you been playing?”
“I started about five years ago.”
“Did you take lessons?”
I drew in a slow breath. “If YouTube counts, yeah. I watched a lot of tutorials on different songs I wanted to learn how to play.”
It didn’t seem to matter to her that I was self-taught. “Just guitar?”
“At first. I started trying the piano last year, but I’m pretty terrible at it.”
“What about singing? Did you take vocal lessons or—”
I shook my head. “My mom made me sing in church, and I was in choir in high school, but that was mostly for the grade.” I relaxed a little into my seat. “I, like, paid attention, though.” I didn’t want her thinking I didn’t care. My voice was just as important to me as my music. “I watched videos about vocal exercises too.”
“That’s good,” she said. “How’d you decide to start performing?”
A smile twitched on my lips. “My dorm had a talent show night.”
Since she could hear the amusement in my words, she guessed the outcome. “You won.”
I’d won easily. It hadn’t even been close.
“Yeah,” I said. “I discovered I like performing, so I found a couple of other guys to play with, and we got some gigs at the bars just off campus.” I changed my mind on the tea and picked up the glass, swirling it to mix the water with the rest of the drink. “They paid us, and it was fun, but when I graduated, we had to go our separate ways.”
I drank a long sip and didn’t miss the way her gaze lingered on my throat as it bobbed in a swallow. She was trying so hard to stay professional, but it seemed to be a battle she was losing.
Good.
“Original songs?” she asked.
“Nah, just covers. I’ve tried writing my own stuff, but it’s . . .” I frowned. “Everything I’ve come up with so far has been shit.”
“Songwriting’s not easy.” Her voice was full of understanding, and it was a long moment before she spoke again. “What made you want to learn the guitar? Have you always wanted to perform?”
Oh, man. That was a question that could lead us into a whole thing. “No.” My voice was uneven. “I did it because I wanted to impress someone.”
Her posture straightened as if she suspected. “A girl?”
I took off my sunglasses and cast them down on the wrought iron tabletop with a clatter, giving her the full intensity of my stare. If this was as close as I was going to get with her, I might as well just do it.
“You could say that. She was married at the time.”
Erika became a statue and it looked like chaos was scrambling the inside of her head. Was she doing the math? Five years ago, I’d been nineteen.
And she’d barely known I existed.
“Remember my mom’s fortieth birthday party?” I leaned over the table, bringing us closer.
It had been a surprise party my