Make that a cold shower.
SEEING JAMIE ALL sexy and shirtless again sent dirty ideas whirling around in Jessica’s head. She went back to her apartment before the girls saw right through her. She’d never had those kinds of thoughts before. I mean, really…who thinks about running their tongue down the center of a man’s abs? Apparently, I do. She had to get a grip before they went to the flea market.
Had she been so entrenched in her career that she’d somehow missed these desires in herself for all these years? Or had she just never met the right man to bring them out? Had these naughty desires always been a part of her? She wasn’t going to find the answer in the next fifteen minutes, so she tried to push the lust away and eyed her cello case leaning against the wall to distract herself.
She had promised herself that she’d go at least a week without playing, but after hearing Vera’s quartet, she craved the vibration of the music as it resonated through the floorboards and vibrated through her body. She gave in to the draw of her cello and removed it from the case. She stroked the neck and scroll as if they were parts of a familiar lover. Oh, how she’d missed them. She’d brought a cello pillow with her, knowing she wouldn’t have access to a cello chair, and now, as she settled it on the wooden chair in the center of the room and positioned herself in the chair, she breathed a little easier. If she were home, she’d play the Amati one of the benefactors of the orchestra had loaned her, but she didn’t dare bring such an expensive cello on vacation.
As she positioned herself in her chair, years of coaching whispered in her ears. Pelvis and lower back forward, chin parallel to the floor, knees out. She grounded her feet flat on the floor and settled the body of the cello against her chest. The familiar lightness of it brought a smile. With her bow in hand, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. It felt strange knowing she could play anything she wanted without the pressure of preparing for a concert. The choice was easy. Her fingers moved without direction. The familiar tension of the strings drew her eyes closed as the long glide of the bow brought the sarabande from the Bach’s 6th suite for cello to life. The piece reminded her of angels singing. When she was alone, without the pressures of the symphony or the whispers of her mother’s scrutiny, there was no place she’d rather be than behind her cello. Her mind drifted to someplace far away, as if carried by the music itself. Her body felt lighter, and all the stresses of the world fell away.
Kind of like kissing Jamie.
When the piece ended, she sat with the cello between her legs for a long time, relishing the feel of it, until she remembered the complexities it brought into her life, and her joy was stolen piece by piece.
Part of her wondered if it was the intense hours or the pressure and scrutiny that bothered her most. She knew it was the scrutiny and pressure to be the best that drove her to practice as hard as she did, and that scrutiny was what kept her nerves strung so tightly twenty-four seven. All she wanted was a normal life. To let go of the need to be perfect and to please her mother. She even wondered if it was her position with the orchestra that was causing the stress, or if it was the underlying pressure from her mother. She hoped to figure that out during her hiatus.
She gently packed the cello away again.
A normal life. Time to get back into it.
She forced herself to focus on tracking down the seller of the baseball. That was the distraction she’d chosen for herself—although Jamie was proving to be an even better distraction. As if she’d flicked a switch in her brain, she put the focus she’d once put into practicing her cello back into finding the baseball.
Only a laptop wasn’t a beautiful cello. It was a stupid, technical hunk of metal that she didn’t get along with. She opened the laptop and took a deep breath. If she could master the cello and graduate top of her class at Juilliard, then she could do this.
Maybe.
After twenty frustrating minutes of trying to figure out how to get back to the page on eBay where she’d bid on the baseball, she was ready to heave the darn thing over the deck. She’d used the Internet so little over the years that it was just one more thing she had to get used to. She narrowed her eyes at the evil thing, wondering how it could possibly be more difficult than anything else she’d ever tried. With a loud breath she tried one more time to figure it out. Finally, she found the Contact Seller link and sent a note to the seller of the baseball.
She pushed her chair back from the table. At least she was making a little headway in the normalcy department. She’d made new friends. In reality, that was anything but a little headway. It was huge, and wonderful, and uplifting. She’d been a little nervous when Jenna, Amy, Leanna, and Bella had invited her to join them for coffee earlier, but they were easy to be with, and after the first blatant question from Bella—So, did Jamie make a move?—to which she’d responded, No, actually, I did, she’d had fun and conversation had come easily. She didn’t know where her answer had come from, and she still wasn’t sure if it was true or not. Technically, she’d fondled his magnificent chest before he’d kissed her neck, so maybe it was true.