Page 65 of All of Him
Dad stayed an extra half hour to finish up the bathroom, then led Noah down to the living room, where his friend’s crew had relocated the piano. It still smelled of mildew, but I’d cleaned it as much as I could without ruining it. Noah didn’t seem to mind as he ran his dirty hand over the rich chestnut finish.
“Goddamn,” he said. “This is great, Tony. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”
Dad smiled and nodded, folding his arms over his chest. He was proud whenever he helped someone and enjoyed watching the surprises make them smile.
“I ask for one song,” Dad said.
Noah nodded and sat at the bench, taking a deep breath. He was a shy person, but it didn’t seem like he minded playing for us. I sat on the couch, where I could still see Noah’s smile as he ran his fingers over the keys.
“Give me a sec,” he started, hitting some of them. “I need to try and remember some stuff.”
Dad and I looked at each other and grinned, and Noah’s face lit up more with each chord he played.
“Okay,” he finally said, “I think I remember one.”
I pulled my knees to my chest as Noah played a familiar tune. It wasn’t flawless, but much better than I’d expected for someone who had said they hadn’t played in a while. Dad beamed from across the room, nodding whenever Noah hit a difficult note. When he finally finished, the two of us clapped for him.
“Wow,” he whispered. “This is so perfect. Thanks again, Tony.”
“Hey,” Dad said, clearly proud of his gesture. “I’m happy you’re happy. And I’m going to leave you to it. Amanda, do you need a ride?”
I looked at Noah, who discreetly shook his head.Guess I’m staying.
“I’m good,” I said. “I’ll get a ride later.”
Dad nodded, his eyes briefly shifting to Noah suspiciously, though not angrily.
“Thanks, Dad.”
As the front door shut, Noah started playing again. It didn’t seem like there was a rhyme or rhythm to his notes, just that he was familiarizing himself with a few things. I leaned my head against the couch and smiled, remembering our morning. I didn’t think he knew, but I’d felt his arm lazily rest on my side and his breathing on the back of my neck. I’d been so content, and I wanted it over and over. I wondered if it could ever be our normal.
“I sing too,” Noah admitted.
I lifted my head and let my jaw drop.
“I guess you want to hear something?”
“Um,” I started, “you are full of surprises, Noah Murphy. Sing away!”
He smirked and shook his head, then started fingering a few chords. I recognized the song as “Falling Slowly” and felt my heart melt onto the floor as he started to sing.
With each word from his mouth, I became more and more aware of my feelings for him, pulling them together with a nice, pretty bow. I heard his voice, felt his pain, and watched as he tried to drown it out with music. His forearms flexed to play the keys, and his lips opened to mouth the words to the song. I watched the real Noah Murphy come out and grabbed him quickly with my own heart.
I savored every second that he sang, just like I’d been savoring every second we’d had together over the previous months. Every word he’d ever spoken to me hit me like a blast from a cannon. I’d been coasting, waiting for that moment without even knowing it. It was not a superficial crush or lust. It was the first signal of a waterfall I could only interpret to be true feelings for someone—for Noah.
And suddenly, I knew what love was.
Noah finished the song and turned to look at me, smiling. I was beaming back at him, shaking my head in disbelief at what I’d witnessed.
“Wow,” I whispered honestly. “That was so good.”
Noah flushed, his uncovered scar redder than the rest of his face. I wanted to jump up and sit next to him, but I knew that could lead somewhere he didn’t want to go. I needed to reel in my heart.
But then he broke the silence.
“Come to Ireland with me.”
“What?” I asked, shocked. I felt an electric pulse go down my back as I gaped at him.
