He laughed out loud, and I grinned as I hurried away.
I peeked at my friends as Rafe caught up and opened the door for me. They were all staring at us with their mouths hanging open in shock.
The look of stunned disbelief was almost enough to make up for the fact that Rafe thought I would be a terrible girlfriend.
Almost, but not quite.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I walked into the practice room a few minutes later, and Chris grinned at me. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a faded gray tee shirt covered with paint splotches. “Good to have you back, Lily.”
I immediately relaxed under his warmth and smiled back. “I was tortured into it.”
“So I heard.” His blond hair was sort of wavy, and I realized he had really blue eyes. How could I not have noticed them before?
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up to find Rafe standing next to me, frowning. “You haven’t met our bass player. Lily, this is Nash Lyons. Nash, Lily.”
Nash was tuning his guitar, but he looked up and gave me a nod. Nash’s hair might have been dark brown, but it was mostly covered by the faded blue Red Sox hat he was wearing. He was also wearing camo pants that were so old they were literally unraveling on the hems, and a black leather cord was around his neck with the letter “S” hanging from it. He nodded back at me, and then he returned to his instrument.
“Nash doesn’t say much these days,” Rafe said.
These days? Had there been a time when he’d been chatty? I studied him more closely, and I saw a thick red scar peeking up from the collar of his shirt, like his head had been almost ripped from his neck. What had happened to him?
“He knows a lot, though.” Rafe tightened his grip on my shoulder and turned me away from Chris and steered me toward the keyboard in the corner. “If I’m not here, Nash is the one you should go to with questions.”
Chris snorted and I glanced at him. He winked at me. “I’m the expert.”
“I have no doubt,” I replied, then grinned when Rafe’s scowl got even deeper. I elbowed him. “Lighten up, Rafe. We’re just messing with you.”
“We’re here to play, not socialize.”
Chris rolled his eyes and Angel snorted. “You’d never guess Rafe used to be fun, would you?”
Rafe glared at Angel. “Stuff it, Angel.”
“Or what?” She didn’t seem at all concerned by him as she strummed her guitar, tuning it up. “You stopped having any input over me when we stopped dating.”
I knew it! There had been an undercurrent of something between them that first day. That meant that Rafe not only had a current girlfriend in his band, but also a gorgeous ex-girlfriend. I was completely outnumbered.
Rafe squeezed my shoulder. “Ignore her.”
I slanted a look at him, ready to give him attitude for trying to tell me what to do, but I clamped my lips shut at the look of pain in Rafe’s eyes. He was upset by what Angel had said! Why? Because she’d pointed out that they were no longer dating? Or because she said he used to be fun?
Rafe walked to the keyboard. He bent over it, hiding his face from me as he let his fingers fly over the keys. He played a quick tune with such talent that he literally took my breath away. “That’s the melody I want you to play. Got it?” He looked up when I didn’t answer him. “What?”
How could I answer him? I was too shocked. “You’re amazing on the keyboard.” He was beyond amazing. He was magic, just as he was on the drums.
He finally grinned and trailed his fingers over the keys. “I play a little.”
“And the guitar,” Angel complained. “The only reason he needs the rest of us is because he doesn’t have enough hands to play all the instruments. That’s why he thinks he’s in charge of the band, because he can do anything when it comes to music. “
I met his gaze. “Except sing,” I whispered. Our little secret. There was one thing related to music that he so couldn’t do, and he’d shared it with me.
He grinned and touched his index finger to my lips. “Shh.”
My heart skittered in my chest as we exchanged glances, his finger still pressed against my lips. It was our moment, the sharing of something that no one else knew.
He winked at me, and then turned away, breaking the connection. “Okay, guys, let’s get started. I have to hit the road early tonight.”
Angel raised her eyebrows, looking surprised. “Early? Since when do you cut out early? It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t we be here until midnight?”
Midnight? He was worse than Crusty. And Angel was right. “You said we’d be practicing late tonight because we have to get ready for the recital at the middle school,” I said.