Light Me Up. Isabel Sharpe

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      “You’re ready now?”

      “I’m ready.”

      He nodded. Took his hands off the keys and rested them on his lap. Bonnie swallowed her dumpling. He was really nervous. What was that about?

      “Here we go.” Soft chords filled the room, then a clear high piano melody, slow and sweet, repeated lower, then dissolving into a gentle arpeggiated accompaniment with occasional rhythmic and harmonic twists that kept the song from settling into predictability. Bonnie put down her fork, heart swelling with pride at the beauty of the music. This tune felt different than anything he’d written, yet it was Seth all over.

      He lifted his head, gazing out at a point beyond the piano, expression earnest, and the closest to vulnerable Seth ever got. His smooth, rich baritone filled the room.

       You wash me with colors

       Blues to take away the sadness

       Green for drawing down the madness

       Black for smoothing over rages

       White for all the pages I’ve filled with you

       Yellow takes the fear from me

       Gold can keep you here with me

       Red’s for cinnamon-candy love

       Burning hot and sweet

       You wash me with so many colors

       You make me feel complete.

      He held the last note, let the chord under it die into silence. Bonnie swallowed convulsively, tears she hadn’t been able to hold back spilling onto her cheeks.

      If he turned and looked at her now, if he gave any indication he understood what the song was saying, not about them, but just about the love it was possible for two people to have, something he’d never acknowledged before, she was going to shatter all over his carpet. He’d be picking up bits of Bonnie for the rest of his life.

      Maybe that’s what he deserved.

      He didn’t look at her. He took his hands off the keys and put them in his lap.

      “Beautiful, Seth.”

      “I hoped you’d like it.” He cleared his throat, drew his finger across the keyboard without depressing notes enough for sound.

      Bonnie wasn’t sure what to say next. She felt as if she were walking on eggshells with this man who was so terrified of all the same emotions he’d just put down on paper. “You haven’t written many romantic songs like that.”

      “Nope.” His fingers turned restless, picked out a tune she didn’t recognize.

      “Your friend talking must have … I don’t know, brought out something in you?” She laughed slightly hysterically. “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

      “Yes, you do, Bonnie.”

      Adrenaline bolted through her. He was right. She did. But she couldn’t admit it out loud, and neither could he. They’d never get over their fears, either of them. Bonnie of being hurt, Seth of losing himself. It was such a poignant, frustrating and colossal waste.

      She’d been looking at online dating sites—just looking for now. But more and more often she’d find herself thinking what she might like to say in her profile. After college she’d dated a couple of guys, friends of friends, but with Seth still firmly lodged in her heart, nothing had a chance of working out. Checking out dating services was a good sign, now, that she was really getting ready to burst free of the Seth-chains and find a relationship she could truly indulge, not one defined and bound by what it wasn’t and couldn’t ever be.

      “I guess I wanted to know why you got so sentimental about love all of a sudden.”

      He wrinkled his nose, finally meeting her eyes with his sultry gray ones. “It’s not all of a sudden, Bon. This is the first one I was happy with, though I still think it needs something. It’s not quite there.”

      “Who else have you played—”

      “No one’s heard it but you.” He spoke aggressively. She held her breath, waiting, but he didn’t go on, not that she really thought he would.

       Don’t read anything into this, girl.

      Too late. She could feel her eternally, relentlessly stupid hope rising yet again. Who was she kidding? Bonnie hadn’t learned a bloody thing where Seth was concerned.

      She pushed a dumpling across the plate, then gave up, appetite gone. “Well, I’m not a musician, but I think it’s perfect.”

      “Thanks.” He looked up, grinning that divinely goofy grin, and their eyes locked. Held.

       Oh, Seth.

      “Bonnie.”

      “Yeah?” She knew what was coming, she felt it. Please, God, give her the strength, courage and balls, if necessary, to slap him down.

      “After all this time between us …”

      “Yes?” That was the last time she was going to say “Yes” until she was back safely in her apartment having not just gotten laid again by the love of her life.

      No, he was only her first love. There would be another man, at least one, and he’d be the real love of her life. She needed to repeat that concept over and over and over until she believed it.

      “I want to tell you …” Seth got up from the piano bench, crossed over and knelt in front of her, put one gentle palm to either side of her face, gazing at her earnestly.

      Bonnie took her hand off the plate in her lap because it was shaking so much her fork was rattling. Don’t do this. Not tonight.

      “I care for you a lot.”

       Oh, help.

      “Seth, you know I care for you, too.” She tried to keep the god-awful vulnerability out of her eyes and voice.

      “You are a really great person. I just think … I want to say that …” His struggle was clearly painful, but she couldn’t help him. She wouldn’t. He took in a huge breath. “I’m … glad you’re my friend.”

      What the—

      Friend?

       Friend?

      For God’s sake. She was suddenly and thoroughly furious. Lifting the plate, elbows out, which effectively removed his hands from her face, she shoveled in two dumplings СКАЧАТЬ