Page 52 of The Perfect Melody

“Sure, if you don’t think the others will mind.”

I can’t see Mei’s brown eyes thanks to her dark sunglasses, but I canfeelher flat stare. “Cassie. For someone so confident on stage, you sure are shy the rest of the time. OK, maybe notshy, but… reserved.”

Ignoring the latter part of her assessment, I shrug. “Performing is different.”

Even without all the distractions like glitter and confetti that accompany every Melody Night show, I become a different version of myself on stage. I was nervous to share my original song, but those nerves were different to what I felt before meeting Mei’s friends. Music has always been there for me, evenwhile I’ve been trapped in the sound I developed in my teens. Countless people have let me down. Music never has.

Oblivious to my melancholy, Mei links her arm with mine. “Well, they all liked you—trust me. You’re stuck with us every Monday morning now.”

“OK.” Weight I’ve become so used to carrying I forgot it was there lifts from my chest at my new friend’s reassurance. I smile with relief at being accepted.

How long will your new friends stick around once they find out you lied to them? They’ll drop you as soon as they discover the real you. Or worse, stay just long enough to use you for their fifteen minutes of fame.

I choose to ignore the nasty voice in my head. These women aren’t like the hangers-on I’ve been dodging for years. They’rereal,and so is their offer of friendship. I have to trust they’ll be able to forgive my deception whenever the truth comes to light. If they can’t, at least I’ll know what having a real friend group feels like. Even before I became Melody Night, I never had many friends. Growing up, I was too shy, too awkward, too preoccupied with my guitar and the songs in my head. I’d rather seize this opportunity to experience a taste of the kind of friendship group I’ve only seen on TV than never have it at all.

“See you later,” Mei says.

“Bye.” We share a smile before walking off in opposite directions.

When Liam suggested I hide out in Pine Grove, I never imagined I’d find so much more than a quiet reprieve from reality. It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I can already tell my time here is changing me. The plan was always to go back to Nashville after this. The problem is, I’m not sure that’s what I want anymore. After this taste of freedom, stepping back into my old life will feel like trying to dance in a pair of heels two sizes too small—painful and nearly impossible to pull off.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Austin

Wipingstray breadcrumbs left behind by my BLT from my fingertips onto my now empty plate, I eye my guitar case leaning against the tiny two-seater couch on the other side of the office. I’m not sure what compelled me to bring my guitar with me today. Well, that’s a lie. I know exactly what—or more accuratelywho—inspired me to pick up the instrument I’ve been neglecting these past few months.

The way Cassie came to life on stage reminded me how much I love playing. While I may not be interested in following the advice of my mum and friends about finding someone to pursue a romantic relationship with, I’m not too proud to admit they’re right about me. I have become stuck in my ways—I just couldn’t see it before. I’ve been so focused on the bar that I’ve let almost everything but my weekly game night with the guys slide away until that and work is all I have left.

It’s warm in here even with the small fan in the corner switched on—one of the downsides of a windowless office. I left my flannel overshirt draped over the back of my desk chair before starting my shift, but even without it I’m still too hot.

Since watching Cassie perform on Saturday night, I’ve been unable to ignore how much I miss having music in my life.Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing I’m struggling to ignore. I’m attracted to Cassie and—after what happened in this very office—I think she might be attracted to me too. Who knows what would have happened if Mei hadn’t walked in? Would we have stopped at a kiss? I’d like to think so. Even a kiss between us wouldn’t be smart. I’m her boss. She’s only here for the summer. Why start something knowing there’s an end date? The trouble is I don’t feel smart around Cassie. I feel… too much. Too intrigued, too invested.

Shaking my head at myself, I cross the room and open my guitar case. The weight of the instrument in my hands is familiar, like hugging an old friend I’ve not seen for too long. The chocolate-brown leather of the small sofa creaks as I settle in.

The guys said I should consider a fling with Cassie—hell, she even suggested as much herself on Saturday, or at least a one-off night of fun, but I’m self-aware enough to know I couldn’t do that. Not with her. Somehow, in the short time I’ve known her, she’s got under my skin. I’ve done the casual thing before and it’s been fine, if a little unfulfilling in the end. With Cassie, I’d be at risk of wanting more, and more with her would only end in disappointment.

She’s got secrets. She’s a wanderer. Fucking talented, too. Someone who shines as brightly as she does isn’t made to stay in a town as small as Pine Grove. Cassie might be happy here for now, but sooner or later she’ll want to move on, to share that light with another corner of the world. I don’t begrudge her that, not one bit, but I don’t want to get involved and be just another thing she’ll eventually leave behind.

I’m out of practice, so it takes slightly longer than it used to for me to tune my acoustic guitar by ear, but I manage it. My left hand easily forms the familiar shapes of the chords to one of my favourite songs, and I strum gently with my right.

Cassie’s working today, but it’s been busy enough that there’s been no time for us to talk aside from exchanging quick hellos. If she wants to talk about what happened on Saturday, we can, but unless she brings it up, I’m happy to move on like nothing happened, and really, nothingdidhappen, did it? Anyone would think I’m a clueless kid fumbling his way through his first crush rather than a thirty-two-year-old man, given the way I’m replaying the kiss that almost was in my mind and overthinking the potential ramifications.

I take a deep breath, refocusing on the feel of the instrument in my hands. My worries will still be here when my break is over. For the next twenty minutes, I plan to lose myself in some of my favourite songs. Aria jokes that I always listen to ballads sung by men with a lot of feelings—she’s not entirely wrong. Too often men are told they’re weak for expressing their emotions. Listening to my favourite artists reminds me that’s not true. It takes a brave individual to share their feelings and insecurities. If my favourite musicians are brave enough to turn theirs into art that will be shared on a global scale, then I can be brave enough to be open with my friends and family. The tightness in my chest loosens with each chord change, and I close my eyes, letting the music soothe me.

Lost in the song I used to play for Aria whenever she got sick when we were kids, I take longer than I should to realise I’m no longer alone. The moment my eyes open, they zero in on Cassie’s slight frame in the doorway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just…” Pink stains her usually peachy cheeks as she trails off. “I was on my way to get napkins from the stockroom when I heard you playing. You’re very good.” She says the last part almost accusingly, as though I’ve been purposefully hiding my musical talent from her.

I huff a laugh. “Hardly. I get by, but I’m nothing special.” Not like the woman in front of me.

She shakes her head, stepping into the office for real. “False modesty doesn’t suit you.”

I bristle at that. “Nothing false about it.”

Cassie cocks her head, blue eyes scanning my face, assessing. “Hm. Apparently not. I guess I didn’t expect you to be self-conscious. You’re usually so confident to the point it would almost be annoying if it weren’t so admirable.”

Inviting herself in, she perches on the arm of the tiny couch I’m occupying. It’s the closest we’ve been since the last time we were alone in here. The scent of jasmine and green apples tickles my nose when she absentmindedly flips her hair over her shoulder, making me want to edge closer despite being mildly irritated by her unprompted character assessment.