Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 304(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“I see. And you prefer guitar and piano…?” he guessed.
“Definitely. And the drums. And the harmonica. And—okay, the list goes on.”
He exhaled a chuckle and wiped his mouth on a napkin. “Do you sing also?”
“Sure. Not as well as Anthony, but I’m fairly good.”
Gideon leaned back in his seat, observing me, and I dug it hard. I wanted his interest. I wanted him to keep asking me questions, because then it could be my turn later.
“You look up to him very much, don’t you?”
“Every kid has a hero,” I said. “He was mine. My pop and I are close, but it was Anthony who guided me through my childhood.” Especially after Ma died. “He’s…he’s just a good role model.” I lifted a shoulder, then smirked when a memory hit me. “He’s the most resourceful man I know. For instance, when his first electric guitar broke and he couldn’t afford a new one, he picked the whole thing apart just to see how it was constructed. Then he used the parts that were still good and created a new guitar. It’s something he still does.”
“Impressive.” Gideon leaned forward again and took some fries. “What kind of music do you play?”
I’d give him this topic. Once we were done with music, I wanted my go. “Soft rock, mostly. It depends what we’re rehearsing for. The one you showed up at is for an outdoor concert in a few weeks, and since it’s the church, it’s mainly Christian rock.”
He tilted his head and chewed and swallowed before speaking. “There will be a concert? One for the public?”
I mean…obviously? Wait, did he wanna go?
“Yes.” I could ask him to come, though it felt a bit rushed. We weren’t there—yet. But as always, there was a compromise. “I’ll leave a note on the fridge with the details in case you wanna spy on me.” I winked to show I had no ill feelings about his sneaking around.
Gideon flushed a little and busied himself with his fries.
Goddamn adorable.
“Can I ask the questions now?” I asked.
He had reluctance written all over, but he’d seen this coming. “It’s only fair. Go ahead.”
Fucking finally.
Chapter 6
Music was a safe route to begin with, or continue with, and he needed some warmin’ up.
“What kind of music do you like?”
His shoulders lost some of their tension, and he thought about his reply while he polished off the rest of his battered fries. “I like many genres. The song I heard you and your brother perform with the choir was lovely—except for the lyrics, of course—but at home, I listen to progressive metal and classical music.”
I lifted my brows, unsure of where to begin. What about the lyrics? And progressive metal? Madonn’.
Classical music made more sense with my profiling of him.
“What’s wrong with Anthony’s lyrics?” I asked first.
Gideon waved a hand, dismissive, and took a swig of his soda. “It was personal. It made me feel uncomfortable.” Because it was a song about trying to settle for second best? About feeling trapped? “I enjoy music by musicians who do more than find a good beat. I appreciate technical songs. They take me on a journey, and I have to focus on the patterns.”
That explained his appreciation for progressive metal, I guessed. Not to mention classical music.
I enjoyed technically progressive songs too, especially playing them, because I loved a good challenge. But there was still a side of me that disliked turning something complicated just for the fuck of it. Some songs were supposed to be easy. It had to be natural.
“Ironically, my all-time favorite song is a simpler one,” he said. “My parents used to dance to ‘Stand by Me’ in the kitchen when I was very young. It stayed with me as one of my most cherished memories.”
I smiled at that. “That’s sweet. My brother and I have performed it a few times. We made it a lot more technical, though.” I smirked.
“Really.” He was too cute. It was clear he was holding back some of his curiosity, but I saw it in his eyes.
It made me more confident that I’d made the right decision not to outright invite him to the gig. Because he wasn’t ready. We were still dancing around the carefully broken rules. Except, to him, it wasn’t careful anymore. I wasn’t spreading my legs for him in the studio apartment right now. I was here, on the Upper East Side, having fries with him.
I’d lubed him up for more personal topics now, I decided, and I knew just how to get there.
“I can admit that I didn’t think you’d be the type of person who liked metal,” I said.
People were always interested in knowing how others perceived them.
Gideon asked the obvious question. “What did you think I listened to?”
Almost there.
I chuckled softly. “I have a whole profile on you based on speculation. Tina didn’t offer much, just that you wanted to explore something before you get hitched.”