Page 76 of Devious Obsession
Again.
I’m playing the good stuff first, the ones that I don’t mess up. The ones that are so ingrained in my muscle memory, I could play with my eyes closed.
In fact, my eyes do close at one point.
When that piece ends, the clapping starts.
I spin around and find the professor I sought out earlier coming onto the stage.
“Beautiful,” he says. “Do you mind giving this a try?”
He stops beside me and sets the new music in front of me. I’m a good sight reader. It hinders me when I’m trying to bullshit myself out of practicing, because I know that for the most part, I can get away with it. And yet, that skill is going to come in handy now.
I adjust my hand position and skim the music. It’s in E flat minor, one of my preferred keys. I nod at him once, and he takes a step back. My attention stays riveted to the music. My fingers know where to go, how to find the correct keys. That’s part of the training—it’s like typing. Once you’re proficient, you don’t have to look at where the letters are.
The piece is sad and somewhat familiar, and it ends with a drifting, lasting note.
The professor waits until it’s faded away to step back up and collect the pages.
“We need a pianist for the spring musical,” he says. “Normally the orchestra is hired outside of the school, but we also haven’t had much luck sourcing a committed pianist. Would you be interested in working with Crown Point Orchestra on this?” He holds up his hands. “Before you say yes, because I see that smile, you’d have to audition with them, as well. But my recommendations are taken seriously, and your playing is beautiful.”
My eyes burn, and I nod wordlessly at him. Because I don’t know what the fuck else to say.Yeah, I’ll take a recommendation on top of an audition to Crown Point Orchestra. That’s… that’s insane. And a dream come true? And—
“Here,” he says, offering me his business card. “Email me your information, and I’ll set it up. Your name?”
“Aspen Monroe.” I rise and extend my hand.
He shakes it, smiling widely. “Nice to meet you, Aspen.”
His business card says,William Wilcox, Professor of Theater and Music Theory.
As in… the perfect guy to know.
I nod to him, and I stay standing until he disappears back offstage. The door to the hallway beyond closes behind him.
Holy shit.
21
STEELE
Ifollow Aspen from the music rooms to the dining hall. She doesn’t know I’m following her, that I’ve been lurking in her shadows since she stopped replying to my texts. She’s gone radio silent, and we have two days until the game in New York.
She joins up with Willow, Violet, Greyson, and Thalia. Knox comes over, too, and they all head inside for dinner. I come along slower, dragging my feet.
I’m all twisted up inside.
Aspen and I need to get back on track—simple as that.
But when I finish getting my food and go into the section with the tables, I find Aspen sitting toward the end of the table. Across from Chase fucking King.
That football asshole really has no idea who he’s messing with. I should’ve beat him up when I had the chance, consequences be damned.
He pats her arm, and I almost drop my plate. I make a beeline for their end of the table and sink into the empty chair beside her. She sucks in a little breath, and I allow myself to enjoy her surprise. I spread my legs under the table until my thigh connects with hers. The connection eases my anger a touch.
I glower at Chase, who seems mildly annoyed. But not afraid.
I’d prefer if he was afraid. Too bad he’s got a daddy who rivals mine in terms of power and money. That’s why he’s almost untouchable. Because ifhemakes a phone call, I’ll get the heat for it. No escaping that.
