Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
I had never felt anything like it before.
A lump clogged my throat when I saw a tear start to fall down Cromwell’s cheek. My lip quivered in sympathy. The music was beautiful, like the feeling of the sun on your face breaking through the harsh wind of winter and welcoming the spring.
Cromwell swayed more deeply, his body leaning back and forward as he became one with the piano. There was no beginning or end to him and the music.
I was sure I caught a glimpse of his soul.
My hand slipped from his shoulder when a tear splashed onto the keys. The loss of my hand caused Cromwell’s eyes to snap open. It was instantaneous. His eyes opened and his hands froze, stopping dead on the keys. Cromwell launched back off the stool. I jumped to my feet before the stool crashed to the floor. I pressed myself against the piano for balance as Cromwell’s eyes locked on mine. They were wide. The pupils were so blown that it engulfed any dark blue.
His neck was corded with veins, and his muscles were so tight they made him seem huge. I was breathing hard, lightheaded from the sudden shock.
His gaze darted to the piano, then to his hands. His fingers rolled into fists and he shook with a sudden anger. Tears stained his cheeks, the evidence that whatever he was playing had caused his heart to break.
It had ruined him.
Cromwell rushed to the table and gathered his things. I watched him silently, having no clue what to say.
It was the second piece of music. The one he had switched to. Lost himself to. It had caused this change inside him. One that he was clearly fighting. My palm was still warm from his shoulder. Where I had been connected to him as he played his masterpiece. In my peripheral vision I saw that he had stilled, and I looked back at him. Cromwell was staring at my hand…the hand that had supported him as he played.
I knew the look in his eye by now. He was going to run. As Cromwell started toward the door, I intercepted his path, placing myself before him. Cromwell stopped dead, his laptop clutched to his chest like a shield. “Don’t,” I begged, my voice broken with panic.
I didn’t want this to end. I didn’t want him to leave again. Not like this. I searched his confused face. His jaw was tight and his eyes were wide. His body was shaking.
I swallowed, feeling the temperature rise between us. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I didn’t even let myself think too much about it. I couldn’t. Because reason was flying out of the window. Cromwell was a statue, the only movement from his rapidly flowing breath.
My hands trembled as I lifted them toward his face. Cromwell never broke my gaze. A sense of dizziness overcame me as my palms touched his cheeks. I rose to my tiptoes, trying to meet Cromwell’s eyes. “Don’t run.” I heard the waver in my voice. I sounded as nervous as I felt. “It’s okay,” I whispered. He closed his eyes, and an almost silent choked sound came from his mouth. That simple sound destroyed me. It conveyed a glimpse at the agony he held inside his heart.
Suddenly, his eyes slammed open and he stepped forward, crowding me so completely that our chests touched and we breathed the same air.
His laptop dropped to the ground, shattering on the hard floor as his hands took my wrists. “I can’t do this, Bonnie,” he whispered, voice hoarse and accent thick. His cheeks were still flooded, his eyes red. “I can’t face it all. I can’t deal with what you’re making me feel. When you’re near me. When you touch me.” His face contorted and he sucked in a tight breath. “I can’t cope with all the pain.”
I wanted to say something. I wanted to reassure him. Tell him I knew what that kind of haunted suffering felt like. But nothing like that came out. All that spilled from my lips was a tortured call. A wounded “Cromwell…”
As his name slipped from my lips, he staggered back. He didn’t even spare a glance at the shattered laptop on the floor. He just fled, leaving an air of desolation in his wake.
I slumped against the wall, trying to calm myself down from the tension of the moment. I rushed to my bag and pulled out my bottle of water. I drank and drank until my pulse had calmed and the sudden surge of dizziness left me.
What was Cromwell doing to me? I wasn’t meant to feel this way about anyone. I’d vowed not to let anyone get too close. But the way he played, the way his deep blue eyes fixed to mine like they were silently crying for help…this broken boy was burrowing his way into my weak heart.