I strum again—slow, wrong, and offensive to the very concept of sound.
Her shoulders inch up some more and I can practically hear the gears in that big, beautiful brain of hers turning.
Almost there.
She shakes her head, muttering something under her breath, like she’s cursing the gods for putting her through this.A small lopsided grin slips through.
One more.
I strum—a truly heinous combination of notes that would make a ghost pack up and leave a haunted house.
Damn, I’m getting good at these analogies.
Her entire body jerks like I just set off a nuclear detonation.
And then—she cracks.
Anna spins so fast, I barely have time to school my expression before she’s stomping toward me, murder evident in her dark eyes.
She drops her mug to the coffee table with a loud thud.“Move.”
I do as I’m told.
But I make sure there’s not much space.
She drops onto the couch beside me, her knee barely brushing mine as she yanks the guitar from my hands, her scowl deep enough to level a city.
But she’s here.She’sengaging.
And as her fingers settle over the frets, something in my chest tightens.
Because for the first time in years…
She’s not just arguing with me.
She’s creating with me.
And fuck, if that doesn’t feel a little like hope.
CHAPTER17
Anna
Ihave no idea how this happened.
One minute, I was drinking my coffee, minding my own damn business.
The next, I’m sitting on the couch with Joel’s guitar in my hands.
Why?
Why am I like this?
You know, scratch that.I know exactly what happened.
I knowexactlywhat he was doing.
He played like absolute garbage until I cracked.