Play It Again (24 page)

How did he learn it so quickly?

No, wait … why did he even want to learn
it?

My stomach flutters, the butterflies soaring
within me as I listen to the music.

I don’t want to think about what it
means.

I don’t want to believe it could mean
anything.

But I hope, oh God do I hope, it means
something.

Something wonderful.

The silence that follows the last cord snaps
me out of my frozen state.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, setting my beer down.
I jump up from my chair and sprint across the deck to where Vance
sits on the steps.

He looks up at me, a big shit-eating grin
spread on his lips. “Hey, Piper.”

“Play it again,” I blurt. “That was amazing.
Please, play it again.”

Vance barks out a laugh, his eyes twinkling
with satisfaction. I’m vaguely aware of the others talking, and I
hardly notice Wes’s chuckles in the background, because Vance does
what I ask.

He plays it again.

And it’s amazing.

Vance

“Vance, have you seen my ...”

Piper darts into the kitchen, her gaze
searching the room, her words stalling. She looks frazzled this
morning, and out of sorts. She’s been rushing around for the last
thirty minutes, getting ready to leave.

It’s curious.

Curious and slightly unnerving.

I’m sitting at the kitchen table, sipping my
coffee, watching her questioningly, but just like the last time she
ran in here, and the time before that, she doesn’t notice. I don’t
bother asking what she’s looking for, knowing she’s not really
expecting an answer from me. I’ve heard that question at least half
a dozen times since breakfast and I gave up trying to help after
the third.

“There it is,” she grumbles and rushes over
to the counter, scooping up a tube of lip balm and muttering
something under her breath, before rushing back out of the
room.

She’s seems so nervous and I wonder if it’s
because she’s seeing Jimmy for the first time since the fire or if
it’s that she’s going to see him alone.

Neither scenario sits well with me.

It’s been a week and a half, give or take a
day, with no contact from Tara. There has been no spray painting,
no notes, no threats, no text message or phone calls to Jimmy, just
a whole lot of silence.

Day after day, Piper habitually goes to her
house. She claims it’s only to check out the construction progress,
but I think she’s secretly expecting to find some clue that Tara is
still in the city.

It’s been … weird having her here. Weird in
an awesome sort of way.

I’m not going to lie, there’s been a few
times over the last week that I’ve freaked out a little. Things are
just so easy with her. So comfortable, and it’s left me feeling out
of sorts.

I feel like I just met her.

I feel like I’ve known her forever.

It’s … confusing and it’s amazing.

Piper rushes back into the kitchen, her lips
pursed as she starts scanning the counters again. Her hair is now
in a loose braid, the tail of it hanging over one shoulder, and
she’s changed her clothing for what must be the tenth time this
morning, now wearing a pair of deep blue boot cut jeans, and a
basic white ribbed tank.

She stalls near me, just out of reach, and
makes a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, finally
looking at me. “Vance, where did you put my—”

“Come here, freckles,” I say, interrupting
her, pushing away from the table and holding out my hand to her.
“Wanna talk to you for a second.”

She frowns at me, hesitating. She looks as
though she’s about to protest, but as I flick my finger at her,
beckoning for her to come to me, her hesitation melts away and she
smirks, shaking her head.

Piper moves across the short space, and as
soon as she’s in reaching distance, I pull her to me, maneuvering
her between my legs, cupping her hip with one hand and her ass with
the other. She makes a startled sound at my abrupt movement as she
teeters on her feet, and then she giggles, bringing her hands up to
my shoulders, steadying herself.

I tilt my face up to look at her. She looks
worried, so I offer her a smile to try to ease her concern, and
ask, “What’s going on with you this morning?”

She returns my smile timidly, cocking her
head to the side as she shrugs a shoulder. “Nothing’s going on. Why
would you think something is going on?”

Sighing, I relax back in the chair, pulling
her closer, relishing the feel of her pressed against me. “You’re
scattered and that’s the tenth outfit and hairstyle you’ve tried in
the last thirty minutes.”

Pink colors her cheeks, and she dips her chin
down, her eyes falling from mine. “You noticed that, huh?”

“Yeah, freckles, I noticed.” I stare at her
for a tick, and then lift a questioning eyebrow. “Did you tell
Jimmy you’re coming to help?”

I’m not sure why I bother asking her the
question. I already know the answer. She wouldn’t be this nervous
or this scattered if she had told him.

She shakes her head, confirming it. “No. He’s
still not returning my calls or messages, so I thought …” she
stalls, scrunching her nose up. “I thought maybe I should just show
up and force him to talk to me. Kim says he’s still blaming himself
and it’s not his fault. I need to fix this.”

I nod, not surprised. He’s kept me updated,
though only through text messages, and any time I’ve broached the
topic of him talking to Piper, he simply ignores me.

“I’ll come with you if you want,” I say. “I
can shift my meeting around.”

She blows out a dismissive breath, her eyes
darting back to mine. “No, no, you don’t have to do that. It’s
fine.”

“I know I don’t have to,” I say, “but I will
if you want me to.”

She laughs, casting me an amused look as she
shakes her head. “No, really, you don’t have to. Kim is going to be
there around one and I really want to have some time with just him.
I miss him, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” I say. “You change your
mind, though, you call me, yeah?”

She nods and I expect her to try to move
away, knowing she’s in a hurry, but she doesn’t. Instead, she
wiggles around in my grip, shifting until she’s able to sit on my
lap. She looks up at me, her arm wrapped around my shoulder, and
smiles genuinely. “You’re pretty awesome.”

I chuckle, kissing her lips. “You’re pretty
awesome, too.”

Piper

Jimmy’s new apartment building isn’t old,
and it isn’t exactly … new. It’s somewhere in that middle stage
where it could use a little sprucing up, but still looks good as it
is.

I pull into the lot, and park my truck in one
of the visitor spaces, spotting Jimmy’s white Honda parked by the
building’s main doors. The trunk is open, so is the rear passenger
side door, but Jimmy is nowhere in sight.

Reaching into my purse, I grab my cell and
search for the text message Kim sent me to double check the
apartment number. It takes a moment to find it; my nerves are so
rattled that I must skim past it a few times before it finally
catches my eye.

Fifth floor, apartment 521.

I put my phone back in my purse, and glance
at the building once more. My hands begin to sweat, and my stomach
coils tight. What if he doesn’t listen to me? What if he doesn’t
believe me?

Crap, maybe I should have brought Vance with
me.

Better yet, I should have waited for Kim.

Ugh. That sounds ridiculous.

Jimmy’s been a friend of mine for years.
We’ve worked together. We’ve lived together. We’ve been through so
much together …

Okay, right, stop worrying.

Get out of the truck, Pipes, and fix
this.

I hop out of the truck, quickly making my way
to the main doors, pausing for just a second to snag a box of
dishes from the open trunk of Jimmy’s car. Might as well bring
something up while I’m going, right?

The elevator is quick, already waiting at the
lobby. I get in and push the button, and moments later it opens
right outside Jimmy’s apartment door. I stroll up to the door,
juggling the box around, knocking.

Then I wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

I can hear him in there, crashing around,
unpacking and making a heck of a lot of noise doing it. There’s
music playing, too, so I knock again, this time louder.

The door opens and he appears in front of me,
his expression confused. He looks at me, his eyes shifting past me
for just a second, scanning the empty hallway at my back, before he
meets my eyes again. He’s quiet for a moment, just staring at me,
agitatedly pulling his lip ring between his teeth, worrying it,
before he finally speaks. “Pipes.”

That’s it.

That’s all he says.

“Hey, Jimmy,” I say, smiling at him.

He stares at me. “What are you doing
here?”

I shrug my shoulder awkwardly, rearranging
the box in my hands. Jesus, it’s getting heavy. “I thought maybe
you could use some help.”

He blinks, then stares some more, his
expression shifting from confusion to … I don’t even know. Angry?
Annoyed? Depressed?

It could be anything really.

The silence stretches.

“Uh …” I stall, hesitating. Maybe this just
showing up idea wasn’t such a good plan after all. “This box is
kind of heavy.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen, dropping from mine to the
box clutched in my arms, as though he’s only now just noticing it.
He reaches for it, taking it from my hands, and quickly sets it
down in the hallway.

“Fuck, Pipes …” he mutters, turning back to
me. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly, he’s on me, arms wrapped around me,
hugging me so tightly I can hardly pull in a breath, but I don’t
care. I hug him back, my arms coming around his waist, squeezing
just as tightly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I say
softly but firmly, my voice muffled by his chest. Pulling my head
back, I grin up at him. “Well, maybe you need to be a little sorry,
because I’ve been going out of my mind worrying about you, but
that’s it.”

“Tara …” he starts, but I don’t let him
finish, pushing out of his arms.

“Tara has nothing to do with you and me,” I
say. “It’s not your fault she was harassing me.”

His eyes are skeptical, borderline angry as
he takes a step back. He doesn’t believe me.

“I’m serious, Jimmy,” I say. “This crap
that’s happened to me is not your fault.”

His eyebrows furrow at my statement. “But
…”

“No,” I say, cutting him off once more. “No
buts. This is not your fault and Tara is not your problem. She
can’t hide forever. Vance will find her, or the cops will, and when
they do, she’ll have to deal with the consequences. Not you. You
can’t blame yourself for her obsession.”

He gapes at me. “You really don’t blame
me?”

I shake my head. “No, I really don’t blame
you.”

He stares at the floor for a moment, before
meeting my eyes, returning my smile. I don’t know if he believes
me, but I can tell he wants to.

“You left your car door and trunk open,” I
tell him. “That’s probably not smart.”

“Probably not,” he agrees.

“Should we …?” I hesitate, looking past him
to the disaster of boxes spread through the apartment, then back to
the elevator. “Can I …?”

I’m not sure why I can’t spit the questions
out, but the words just won’t come. He looks exhausted and
stressed, and standing at the door, I feel like I’m
interfering.

“Yeah, Pipes,” he says, answering my unasked
questions. “I think I’d like that.”

He strolls out the door, a smile tugging at
his lips as he moves past me, pressing the call button on the
elevator, and we head back down to his car, making quick work of
unloading the rest of the boxes.

The morning slips by as we unpack. Nearly
everything is new, still in the original packaging. New clothes,
new sheets, new pillows and dishes. When I ask him about it, he
grumbles something about Tara tossing all his things while he was
away on his last photo shoot, before taking off to another room,
clearly not wanting to talk about it.

By the time we finish unpacking everything
for the bedroom and setting it up with the new bed and dresser,
it’s closing in on one o’clock.

“I’m starving,” Jimmy says, flopping back on
his bed. “You feel like pizza?”

I look at him, my expression serious. “I
always feel like pizza.”

“There’s a place down a block that’s awesome
and they have a walk in special running,” he says. “You wanna
come?”

“Kim’s going to be here any minute,” I remind
him. “One of us should probably stick around.”

Sitting up, he runs a hand over his face.
“Yeah, okay. Pineapple and bacon, right? Or did you want to go
instead?”

“Nah, I’ll stick around here,” I say, though
I’m guessing he wasn’t expecting me to want to go, because he’s
already up and walking toward the door.

I spend some time in the kitchen after he
leaves, washing all the new dishes, and then I wander between rooms
for a bit, putting things away.

There’s a knock on the door as I bend over to
grab a box labeled bathroom. I straighten up, leaving the box where
it is, and glance at the clock, seeing it’s a few minutes after
one. I smile. Kim’s actually on time. I walk to the door, quickly
unlocking it, and pull it open, but it’s not Kim on the other side
of the door.

No, the person standing at the door is
Tara.

Piper

Oh crap!

Oh crap!

Oh crap!

My pulse goes flying and I move to push the
door closed, but before I can, hard hands shove me and I stumble
backward. I gasp in shock, nearly toppling over, scrambling to stay
on my feet as the door slams and the lock clicks in place.