More than Music

31

I avoided him entirely outside of rehearsal, which was easy since I kept to my room a lot…until Kyle insisted I come to their room to work on my stage presence.

Jared opened their door, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His wet hair hung in his face, and water dripped down his long, toned chest. I’d always wondered if Jared’s tattoos continued under his shirt, and the answer was no, except for the word “VILLAIN” inked across his chest, just below his collarbone.

“Hey,” he said. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Um…Kyle told me to stop by.” Damn, it was really hard not to stare at him. My eyes followed the dark hair that trailed down his stomach and under the towel. Please let that towel fall, I thought. I’d never wished for something so hard in my life.

“Ugh, go put some clothes on,” Kyle said from behind him.

Jared stood back to let me in, and I was careful not to get too close to his steaming, naked body as I walked past. He disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door, and I remembered how to breathe again.

Kyle rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I thought he was going to the gym with Hector.”

There wasn’t much room to practice, so we moved the desk and made space in front of the sliding doors to the balcony. Once that was done, I pulled out my acoustic guitar and checked the tuning. It wasn’t as exciting as my electric guitar, but it would have to do since my Fender was still in Dan’s studio.

Jared emerged from the bathroom wearing black jeans and a T-shirt with Darth Vader that read, “Choking Hazard.” If there was anything that could make him sexier to me, it was a geeky shirt. Dammit.

He sat on the bed beside Kyle, and they waited for me to start. I put my hands in position on my guitar, but still I hesitated. I’d played in front of the brothers dozens of times now, but for some reason, I was more nervous than ever today. Maybe because they were both watching me intently instead of playing alongside me. It was like my first night in their garage all over again. Except now I was in their bedroom, which made it even worse.

Jared must have sensed my reluctance because he grabbed his own guitar and plugged it into a small travel amp. I hadn’t realized he’d brought his Fender to the hotel, the same one I’d played at his party all those nights ago. He started the opening to “Uprising,” and with his music to concentrate on, I joined him on my own guitar. The mix of acoustic and electric sounded odd, but it didn’t matter for this exercise.

Kyle examined me for a minute and then jumped up. “Your body is too stiff.” He grabbed my arms and shook them a little. “You need to loosen up.”

I dropped my guitar pick and then grabbed it off the floor. “I’m not that stiff.”

“You look like you’ve got a piece of wood jammed up your ass,” Kyle said.

“You are pretty stiff,” Jared said. “Try moving your hips when you play. Like this.”

He stood behind me and put his hands on my waist, and I sucked in a breath as he showed me what he meant. Heat rushed through my body as I imagined him sliding those hands lower, across my bare skin. He stepped back, and I remembered Kyle was still there, too, which cooled me off a little.

Jared took off his guitar and passed it to me. “Here, use mine. Playing with an acoustic guitar isn’t the same.”

I flushed as I put it on, remembering the previous time I’d used it. I started up again, trying to keep my arms loose and swinging my hips along with the beat, but I was so focused on moving that I missed notes and got all messed up and had to stop playing. Or maybe I was still flustered from Jared’s hands on me.

Kyle squinted. “Well, that was terrible. You looked like you were in pain or something. This time try not to look like you’ve been set on fire and are trying to put it out.”

I sighed and played the opening again, moving less and forcing myself to smile, but Kyle shook his head. “Nope. You look like a creepy doll with that grin.”

“Ugh!” I flopped onto one of the beds, dropping the guitar next to me. “This is hopeless. I’m never going to be any good at this.”

“We have to find something that works for you and doesn’t make you look psychotic or like you’re dying. Maybe—” Kyle stopped and fished his phone out of his pocket. “s**t, Alexis is here early. I’ve got to run. Sorry. We’ll continue this tomorrow, okay?”

After his brother left, Jared sat on the edge of the bed near me. “Kyle’s only trying to help you.”

“I know. I just suck. I’m going to ruin everything for us.” I threw my arm over my face. This bed was comfortable. Maybe I could just lie here forever, and then I’d never have to perform again. A perfect solution to this problem.

“You don’t suck.” He jumped up and grabbed his guitar again. “C’mon, maybe I can help. Kyle spends all his time on stage behind a keyboard anyway.”

I sat up to watch him. I was willing to try anything at this point, and let’s be honest, I always enjoyed seeing Jared perform.

“For me, the trick is to feel the music and move along with it. Tap your foot, nod your head, whatever feels natural.” He started the opening again and leaned back, stretching his long body as he played. I stared at the spot where his stubble trailed off on his neck, yearning to press my mouth there. I imagined the way it would feel to slide my fingers under his shirt and across his toned stomach. I wanted to see that tattoo