Out Of Place (Face the Music Book 2) (6 page)

However they had all agreed that the darker side might be interesting. Given that
One Mistake
had already started down that path, they might as well walk it and see what happened.

Mike took the cover off the old keyboard. It was one of those things they had, but didn’t use very often. Gemma occasionally tinkered, but Mike had actually sat piano exams and knew what he was doing.

When he took the cover off they all listened.

He played a couple of scales, as if to reacquaint his fingers with keys instead of drumsticks. Then he launched into a classical piece that was suitably dark and mood setting.

Without warning he stopped and started playing something else with his right hand. “I was thinking about this all night.”

“I thought you were out banging some chick.” Dan was sipping his first beer of the day. Slow and constant so he’d be able to drive home. He wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t being sensible either.

Mike and Dan had been arriving in separate cars, despite being roommates, reluctant roommates. Ed glanced between the guys, not wanting the situation to boil over but not sure what to say. Saying the wrong thing could make it worse.

“I’ve been staying with my mother since you are cluttering up my place.” Mike’s fingers hadn’t stopped what they were playing. After a moment he added in his left hand, tried a couple of different things then played it all again. It wasn’t much. Thirty seconds of music. But it had that stuck-in-your-head quality that good songs had.

“Any plans for it?” Ed closed his eyes as he listened. All he saw was Olivia saying maybe and getting her car and driving off. Not meant to be. It was probably for the best. He didn’t have the time to put into a relationship and next year he’d be back over east.

“Nope…I got nothing beyond this right now.” He flicked a few switches and recorded what he’d been playing.

“You need to take it into the verse,” Gemma said.

Mike nodded. “Unless this is the verse.”

Ed listened again. “Gem’s right. It’s the sticky chorus.”

“Dan?” Ed glanced over his shoulder.

Dan shrugged. “It doesn’t feel like a breakup song, doesn’t feel like love either.”

“Not everything has to be about love.” Mike stopped playing and let the recording take over. “Do you want to get that down?”

Ed grabbed his tablet and opened up the app. Once they’d done it all by hand, painfully transcribing songs. That experience had given them a great appreciation for music. Of course Mike had excelled at that. He was actually musically gifted, as was Gemma. He and Dan had limped along with the theory. Yet somehow when they talked it was always his band—a band that had gone through four different names before settling on one. It had been him who pushed for gigs and made the dream seem doable. If he failed, they all failed and they’d wasted years of their lives being broke when they could’ve been doing something else.

“I already have the rhythm in my head. Insomnia is at least a useful bitch. Anyone got anything to add?” Mike got up, but left the recording on the keyboard going.

It wasn’t unusual for them to leave the same thing playing for hours until something happened.

While it wasn’t the right sound for what he’d been playing around with—that he knew that much was progress—if they got some music happening, perhaps Gemma and Dan could work some magic. Right now, putting anything together and finishing it would feel good. And they needed that sense of achievement.

Ed picked up his guitar. Like this, he didn’t feel the need to be perfect. It was when he presented stuff that he wanted it to be right. Mike had happily sat down with a dash of a melody and hoped that someone else could bring it together. He made it look easy. It had once been that easy for him. When had he lost it and let the doubt-demon take over?

He needed to find a way to shake free.

Mike sat behind the drum kit, joined in with his piano, then stood and bowed. “I have now done more work than the rest of you so Dan, pass me a beer while I sit back.”

Dan handed the beer to Mike, but Ed knew Mike wouldn’t just watch.

“Okay, how about…” He let the piano piece get close to the end before joining in.

“Oh.” Gem turned the recording off. She played Mike’s piece, checked with him that she’d got it, then added an extra bit. “And cue verse.” She turned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Ed smiled. Mike had brought the mojo.

Thank God someone had because apparently he none at all, of any kind.

One day without the ring and she’d already been asked out for coffee. It had made her smile and freak out the whole way home. She may have done a small squeal of excitement after she’d left the car park. But she’d said maybe instead of yes. The fear that they’d have coffee, then more, and that he’d realise not everything was as it seemed had stopped her from enjoying the moment and wiped the smile away.

She took the necklace off and placed in on the bedside table. The ring gleamed in the soft light. If she was ready to move on, it shouldn’t be this hard. She loved Miles, but she wasn’t in love with him.

Olivia wasn’t sure when that change had happened, but she’d crossed that line in her heart a long time ago. However, this wasn’t really about her heart.

Coffee wasn’t dangerous to her heart. A cute guy asking her out should’ve been an automatic yes. There was nothing wrong with dipping her toes in the water even if she didn’t want to swim.

She lay on the bed and opened up her book. One chapter and then she’d go to sleep, but she couldn’t focus on the words. She’d blown a perfectly good opportunity. The first she’d had in a while.

The failure of last time was fresh in her mind. Guys her age didn’t expect the baggage she came with. She gave up trying to read and closed her eyes. Then opened them. When she went to sleep she’d be that much closer to tomorrow. Would Ed be there when she finished work?

She raked her teeth over her lower lip.

Would she get a second chance? More to the point, would she take it?

It was easy to think that she would as she lay in her bed nice and safe. She ran her fingers over the scar on her shoulder. It wasn’t that ugly, or was she used to seeing it? Was it shocking…like discovering she had a kid?

None of that mattered for coffee. Ed could be a dick.

She smiled. He’d come to her aid. She doubted that he was as much of a dick as the groomsman that Julie had paired her with. Julie had decided months ago that she wasn’t going to bring anyone and the groomsman was also single. They’d met at a breakfast for the wedding party a few weeks ago so they could all get to know each other. She’d learned more about the groomsman than she needed too. He’d been far too free with his hands.

After the third time, she’d threatened to break his fingers if he touched her again—she might’ve said it loud enough for the whole table to hear. Julie had lectured her about being prickly.

Was she prickly? Was that her defence system to keep people away? The idea that her sister was right was enough to make her vow a change.

If Ed was there tomorrow she’d give him a chance. He had a nice smile and a nicer voice. If she was honest, she was interested in getting to know him a little better—if he learned more about her and ran for the hills, well, that was his problem not hers.

It would still hurt.

She turned off the light and lay in the dark. For a moment the room spun like the car had before it hit the tree. It had seemed to happen so slowly but it would’ve been over seconds. The tightening of her seatbelt. The stop. After that it was a blur.

One bad choice and a few seconds and she was living with the result for the rest of her life. Sometimes she hated Miles for that.

She hated herself for getting in the damn car when she should’ve known better, but she hadn’t wanted to make a scene. No, Miles had done that and it had been well attended. Not that he would’ve noticed. She’d found out later that he’d been killed instantly.

There was no way to undo it, to go back and change it. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life forever getting buffeted by the ripples those few seconds made.

In the dark she reached out and grabbed the ring on the chain, then she opened the drawer and dropped it in. For a moment she stared at the ceiling. Nothing had changed, it wasn’t out of sight out of mind. Nothing was that easy.

No, but the first step was.

And then she just had to take the one after that. And repeat.

She turned over and ran through her do to list for tomorrow.

At least she didn’t have to rush off and look at day care centres. She’d picked one and she’d get the paperwork done and come January, Ethan would be able to go and spend a day with kids his age.

All she had to do tomorrow after work was scour the job sites to find a new job.

Write a résumé and make sure Frankie gave her a good reference.

Have coffee with Ed if he was there.

It was on her list, therefore it would happen. She wouldn’t let herself run away again. One coffee meant nothing in the grand scheme of things, but to her it was a huge step into dangerous territory.

As she fell asleep she remembered Ed standing in the sun, the way the light caught his short hair and made it golden and the way the shadow of his hand fell across his face, leaving his lips in the light.

She’d eaten her cake and drunk her coffee alone, and her book was finished. Yet she lingered. Ed’s car was out there. She could see it from where she was sitting, but he must be out on the water. The waves were big, rolling in pretty steadily; as a result there were a lot of black-clad surfers out there making the most of it.

For a while she stared of the window, content to watch even though she didn’t know which one he was. For how much longer did she wait…would he bother to come in? She should get going. There was Christmas shopping to do before the crowds got really bad, spending the money she should be using on getting her car serviced.

One guy got out of the water and headed toward the outdoor shower. It was him, she was sure of it. It was the short hair that gave him away. Most of the young guys had longer hair. For a moment she was paralysed. What would he do?

What should she do?

She’d been the one to say maybe and leave it open. She should make the next move. Her heart tripled in size and she struggled to breathe. Was she really thinking of it as a date?

No. Just coffee. A thank you coffee.

Yes, that sounded better. Less pressure.

Ed walked across the sand, his wetsuit around his waist. He wasn’t overly tanned. Whatever job he had was indoors, and he was heading toward his car. If he got in and drove away that would be it, opportunity gone.

Perhaps it was fate and it wasn’t meant to be.

She watched for another two heartbeats before getting up. Screw fate. Fate was a bitch if the accident was meant to be. Olivia had always leapt at opportunities before. Before the accident and after the accident, her life was neatly divided by the scar lines. While she couldn’t go back, she was tired of drifting without direction, waiting for something to happen. She had to make it happen before another three years slipped by.

“Two coffees to go, thanks.”

The barista made them for her without a question and she paid the staff price for both. She’d miss that. She’d gotten used to cheap coffee and cake. She glanced across the beachside car park to see if she’d be drinking them by herself, but Ed was towelling off and his board was sticking awkwardly out the back of his car. Relief mixed with the nerves. If her stomach didn’t untangle she wouldn’t be able to drink at all.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like this…yes she could, but she pushed it aside. It was too warm and sunny to think about old ghosts.

Ed had his back to her as she crossed the road to the car park. The coffees were hot in her hands, too hot, making her palms sweaty. She slowed to take a longer look at him before he put on a shirt. Her gaze skimmed down his back, over his butt to his feet—one of which had a fresh looking scrape. She dragged her eyes back up, it wouldn’t be right to be caught checking him out, but she couldn’t take the hint of a smile off her face.

He was a good-looking guy. A few inches taller than her, which was always nice, and he was fit. Aside from a brown birthmark the size of a fifty cent piece on his shoulder, he seemed to have no other marks. Not even any ink. That made a nice change. Nearly everyone she knew had something—usually acquired in Bali.

She walked around, making sure that he was on her good side. It was almost instinct now, but sometimes she got caught out. Usually she didn’t bother to explain the problem. It was nobody’s business. “Hi.”

Ed turned and looked around. Surprise lifted his eyebrows, but was quickly replaced by a smile.

“A thank you for getting me…” That was a little too close to the truth. “I mean my car going yesterday.” She handed him a cup, glad to get it out of her hand and to have something to do so she didn’t think about the heat on her cheeks caused by a bad case of foot in mouth. “I have sugar in my handbag if you need some.”

Along with wipes, hand sanitiser and a couple of muesli bars for when Ethan got hungry. Her handbag was a random assortment of essentials. She remembered the days of having only her phone, bank card and house key.

And while she’d been talking and rummaging in her bag for the sugar—which of course had slipped to the bottom in the time it took to cross the road—he’d said nothing.

“No sugar is fine.” He took a sip as if to be sure. “I didn’t expect anything.”

She glanced away; she had to salvage this somehow. Admitting that she hadn’t been at her best yesterday was probably the way to go. “I raced off and left it rather ambiguous.”

Had he changed his mind? How awkward. But it was only coffee; she could say thanks once more and walk away.

He dragged a striped towel over the back of his car so it hung over the bumper. “Have a seat. It’s dry and clean. Promise.”

He put his hand over his heart, drawing her attention to his bare chest. A couple of drops of water slid down his chest and then lower, to the waistband of his shorts. Her fingers pressed against the paper cup and she had to tear her gaze away.