Chapter Twelve Cromwell

Chapter Twelve

Cromwell

“What?” I wasn’t sure I’d heard that right.

“You’ll be working alone from now on,” Lewis said. “I’ve decided to separate you and Ms. Farraday. The pairing wasn’t working. You weren’t producing anything that could be submitted.” He shrugged. “Some people just aren’t suited creatively. I made an executive decision to allow you to work on your compositions alone.”

I stared at Lewis, stunned. She didn’t want to work with me anymore. My stomach fell and I shifted on my seat. Her face on Wednesday flashed in my mind. When she’d stood at the door and saw me, saw Kacey in my bed. I shifted in my seat again when a stab sliced through my chest.

Bonnie had been hurt. I saw it in her brown eyes.

I’d hurt her.

I’d sent Kacey home later that night. I hadn’t even tried to get back into it. Back into what we’d been doing before the knock came. I couldn’t. All I saw was Bonnie’s face. Even drunk off my face, I knew I’d fucked up.

As I sat here now, my shoulder burned. Right over the exact spot where she’d put her hand on me and I’d lost myself in the music. It had sucked me under to the point that I wasn’t even aware of what I was playing. And I’d been playing that piece. The one I never wanted to touch again.

Bonnie had heard it.

No one ever had but me.

“Cromwell,” Lewis said, pulling me out of my own head.

“Fine. Whatever.” I left his office and stormed through the corridor. The few music students left knew to give me a wide berth. Bonnie was gone from my life. I should have been okay with it. It was what I wanted. I’d pushed her away like everyone else.

But my body was a live wire. And I couldn’t let it go. I worked better alone. Always had. But the thought of her not being there…

I sparked up a smoke and walked home. But with every step I got more and more agitated. I knew Bonnie had done this somehow. She’d made Lewis drop me. I pushed through the door to my dorm. Easton was out. Good.

I sat at my desk and fired up my new laptop. I cracked the window so the fire alarm wouldn’t go off when I lit up another cig. With my headphones over my ears and blocking out the world, I let the colors lead me in the beats.

I closed my eyes, and the pulsing shapes of vivid colors took form. I followed the patterns, let them control my fingers as I slammed the keys and drum machine, chasing the painting on the backdrop of the black canvas.

I worked and worked until my cigarettes ran out and my fingers ached. I’d drunk the last of the cans of beer and drained a two-liter bottle of Coke. But when I slipped off my headphones and saw that it was dark outside, nothing had changed inside me. It didn’t matter that I’d mixed tunes that would have the clubs bowing down to me like I was a god.

I was still pissed off that I’d messed up. Anger ran through my veins, ready to burn like lit petrol. I tipped my head back and let out a loud groan of frustration.

She’d had me dropped because I’d hurt her.

I’d gotten drunk after I’d left her. So drunk that I just needed to spin, needed to be busy. The next thing I knew we were at the Barn. I’d downed shot after shot of whiskey to forget Bonnie. So that I didn’t rush back to where I’d left her and tell her it all. She was getting too close. And something happened to me when I was around her. My defenses fell.

I couldn’t let them fall.

Kacey had been at the Barn, clinging to me like glue. When I couldn’t get Bonnie from my head, I knew I needed to be with another girl. But when she was at my door, her brown eyes wide with hurt, I knew I’d fucked up.

It would never have worked. Bonnie Farraday was cemented into my brain.

“How about eight at Jefferson Coffee?” That wanker’s words ran through my head at a million miles an hour. I looked at the clock. She’d be with him now. It was nine. The dark pit that started forming in my stomach at the thought of her with Bryce McCarthy grew and grew until, the next thing I knew, I was out of the door and pounding the pavement until I hit Main Street.

Her brown eyes filled my mind, urging me on. Her smile and my name coming off her lips. The imprint of her hand still burned on my skin, and her palms I still felt on my cheeks. The scent of peach and vanilla from her neck was still in my nose.

It tasted of sweetness on my tongue.

I stopped dead outside the coffee shop. I kept my head forward, telling myself to go the hell home and to not do this. But my feet didn’t listen. The pit in my stomach didn’t go. Bonnie was in there with Bryce.

And I hated it.

I gritted my teeth, then snapped my head to the side and looked through the window. Something resembling a stone in my chest dropped when I saw Bonnie at her usual table with Bryce. Her hair was down and curled, hanging halfway down her back. I’d never seen her hair down.

And she looked…I couldn’t look away.

She was wearing the purple dress she’d been wearing in Brighton. Someone came out of the door holding a takeaway espresso. He held the door for me. “You want in?”

I didn’t think it through; I just walked in the door, the scent of roasted coffee beans slamming into my face. When I saw Bryce leaning into Bonnie, Bonnie smiling, something seemed to snap within me.

I crossed the coffee shop and pulled out the chair at the table right next to theirs. I leaned back in the seat. Bonnie’s brown eyes were wide as they latched on to me. Her lips parted. Slowly, a burst of red flared on her cheeks. It was like seeing the sound of a G-sharp note tattooed on her pale skin.

Sam, the barista who had served us before, came over. I flicked him an uninterested glance. He frowned and looked between me and Bonnie. “Black coffee,” I said, then looked over at Bonnie again.

She’d ducked her head away from me. But I had all of Bryce’s attention. His face was fuming. Good.

He leaned closer to Bonnie and gave her a smile. My fingers dug into my palms when she smiled back. My coffee arrived, and I turned my head away. I needed to breathe. To keep it together. Because the sight of them together was driving me mad.

I listened in on their conversation, zoning everything else out. They talked of school. Of music. When Bryce talked about what he was creating for Lewis, I wanted to punch him. But when Bonnie told him she’d started composing her own, I froze.

She’d already started without me.

About five minutes later, Bryce got up and went toward the toilets. Bonnie turned her head to me, eyes tired. “Cromwell, what are you doing here?”

I didn’t like how sad her voice sounded. It was navy blue. “I was thirsty.” Her shoulders sagged and she played with the handle of her cup.

Bonnie flicked her hair back from her shoulder, showing a big silver hoop in her ear. She had more makeup on than I’d ever seen her wear. I shifted in my seat when it hit me that I thought she looked beautiful.

She must have seen me staring. She leaned forward, voice low. “Cromwell. Please,” she begged. “Stop, whatever this is.” Her eyes fell. “This constant back and forth…I can’t do it anymore. You have your life and I have mine. And that’s okay.”

“You had me dropped as your partner,” I said, and she blinked in shock.

She looked toward the toilets. When there was no sign of Bryce, she said, “Lewis didn’t think we were working. I agreed. He allowed us to do the project on our own.” She took a deep breath. “It’s for the best.”

You heard it, I wanted to say to her. No one else has ever heard it, but you did. And you’ve walked away. You’ve let me push you away…

“You’ve been given a gift, Cromwell. A beautiful gift. And when you let your walls down, it’s pure and beautiful…” Her face filled with sympathy. “But you fight so hard. Fight against letting anyone in.” She shook her head. “You run, Cromwell. You run from music. And you ran from me because I heard it.” She took a sip from the glass of water beside her.

Bryce pushed through the door of the men’s room, and she glanced at me from the side of her eye. “Please leave, Cromwell.” She clutched her cup. “I want to enjoy tonight.”

She turned her back to me, breathing labored. I stared at her, chest aching from what she’d said.

Bryce sat back down. His eyes narrowed as he looked at us. “Everything okay, Bonnie?”

“Yeah.” I heard the fake smile in her voice. “Cromwell was just leaving.”

Anger built inside me in an instant. I watched her with Bryce and let the fire consume me. I’d been a walking inferno for three years, and seeing her with him right now, Bonnie choosing Bryce over me, sparked the flame so hot I had no way to stop it. “Nah, don’t think I’ll leave,” I said and settled back in my seat. Bonnie looked at me, confusion engulfing her face.

Sam came and refilled my coffee. Bryce and Bonnie started talking again in low tones. Reaching over to their table, I swiped the sugar bowl. My action cut off their conversation. Bonnie was beyond pissed off; I could see that much. “Need sugar,” I said.

Bryce folded his arms across the table. I leaned closer and listened in. My hand absently played with the handle of the cup. “It’s based on the journey of an immigrant to America from Ireland,” Bryce was saying. “We start with an Irish violin solo, then move in a flute, then more strings.” I huffed a laugh. Bet it sounded great.

Bryce shot me a glare. Then he covered her hand with his, and he turned his attention back to her. Bonnie tried to move her hand away, but Bryce threaded his fingers through hers and kept hold of the touch. Bonnie stared at the entwined fingers and frowned.

The wanker didn’t see it. Two conflicting things happened within me. I felt a stupid amount of relief that she clearly didn’t like him that way. But my blood turned to lava at the fact that he was touching her.

I downed my coffee, hoping the spike of caffeine and sugar would help. I winced. I bloody hated sugar in my coffee. When I put the empty cup back on the table, nothing had changed.

“You’ll be happy you’re working on your own now, yeah?” Bryce asked.

He had no idea what the hell he was doing. I knew that much. Because if he knew I was so close to smashing my fist into his mouth, he’d keep it shut.

“Yeah,” Bonnie said. She had the sense not to say anything else.

“Some people just aren’t meant for classical music, you know?” I raked my teeth over my bottom lip. But the arsehole didn’t stop. “Some people can throw together some beats on a laptop and call it music. They sail by, conning everyone into thinking they’re something special. All the while, the real artists among us get overlooked.”

I laughed. “Artist? You?” His lips tightened. I shook my head. “You still sulking at the fact I came to Jefferson and pissed on your bonfire?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Bryce asked.

I folded my arms and leaned back on my chair. “The Barn. The fact that I could out-mix you with no hearing and my eyes shut. You’re pissed off that I got a free ride on the course and you didn’t.” I got up and towered over where he sat. “You’re jealous that my piss hitting the toilet pan would sound better than anything you could compose.” I curled my lip. “You reek of mediocrity, bitterness, and jealousy.”

I sat back down and signaled for more coffee. It was silent behind me until I heard the scraping of a chair. I looked back to see Bryce on his feet. “Sorry, Bonn. Can we reschedule?”

“You’re leaving?” she whispered. I didn’t like the swirling I felt in my stomach as I heard the embarrassed shake in her voice. I didn’t like the pale gray I saw as her words hit my ears. My heart was still thudding. But as the red mist dropped from my eyes, and I turned and saw Bonnie’s ashen face, something like regret built there instead.

“Yeah. I…I’ll call you, okay?”

I heard the door to the coffee shop close. Bonnie’s eyes were hurt. “Why?” she said under her breath. “Why did you have to come here tonight?” She scrabbled in her purse and threw a handful of notes and coins onto the table. “Just to get your revenge for the fact we’re no longer partners?” She laughed without humor. “Well done, Cromwell. You ruined it for me.”

She got up from the chair so quickly she seemed to lose her footing. Sam flew over and grabbed her arm to stop her from falling at the same time that I jumped from my seat. “You okay?” he asked.

She put her hand on her head. “I’m fine. Got up too quick.” Bonnie pulled back and rushed out of the door.

I glared at Sam, who was scowling at me. I threw a twenty on the table and got up. He grabbed my arm as I passed. “Leave her alone.”

I stopped short at his order. I looked down at his hand wrapped around my bicep. “You might want to remove that hand, mate.”

Sam pulled it back, wide-eyed, and I pushed past him and burst out of the door. I scanned Main Street, but I couldn’t see her anywhere. As I crossed the road, I saw her in the distance, leaning against the wall of an antiques shop, under a street lamp. She had a denim jacket on over her dress, and brown ankle boots on her feet.

Bonnie lifted her head as I walked toward her. She looked tired and worn out. “He’s gone.” Her attention drifted down the dark road. When she turned back to face me, there were tears in her eyes. “I just wanted this one night,” she whispered. “After everything…I just wanted this one night to go right.”

The sound of her broken voice did something inside my chest. Cracked it somehow. She wiped away a tear that fell down her cheek. “I’ve never let myself have anything like this. Have never been able to.” She choked on a hitched breath. She straightened her shoulders and looked me in the eye. “But I wanted to know how it felt. I wanted to not have to think about it all for one damn night…”

I stared at her, having nothing to say. What the hell was she talking about? What did she want to forget about?

I ran my hand through my hair. Her tears came harder, until she stood off the wall and turned on me. The tears were there, but now so was something I recognized all too well—anger. “Tonight you were cruel, Cromwell Dean. You were cold and cruel and unkind.”

Bonnie stepped closer. Her face was almost touching mine. “Just leave me alone.” She lowered her eyes. “Please.” She turned around and started to walk toward her car.

But hearing her hurt voice, seeing her walking away, snapped something inside me. My blood rushed so fast through my veins that my head became dizzy. I didn’t think it through; I just acted on instinct. I reached out and grabbed her arm. As she turned, I pushed her back until her back hit the wall.

“Cromwell, what—?” she went to say. But before she could, my lips smashed onto hers. The minute I tasted her on my tongue, my heart started slamming in my chest. A surprised sound fell from her mouth and I swallowed it down. My chest flattened against her, and I felt the warmth of her body as it meshed with mine.

Then she started kissing me back. Her lips opened, and I pushed my tongue into her mouth. Bonnie sagged against me as I took her mouth. As I drank her in. Her hands clutched my arms, her nails digging into my bare skin.

We were a blazing fire against the wall. I couldn’t stop. Bonnie’s mouth didn’t either, lips moving faster and stronger the longer we kissed. Until I broke away, stunned. Bonnie’s eyes opened and met mine.

She stared at me for what felt like an age, and then her eyes flooded with tears, completely breaking my heart. She didn’t say anything. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing erratic. Then she was off, rushing to her car. She started up the ignition in seconds and pulled out onto the street. I watched her taillights disappear from view.

I stood on the side of the road, breathing deeply, until a noise from behind me snapped me out of whatever the hell fog I’d just found myself in. The wind blew across my face, and it immediately woke me up.

I forced my feet to move, one in front of the other, until I was heading back home. But with every step I remembered it. Tasted her peach scent on my tongue. I looked down and saw the nail marks from where she’d gripped me so tight. My chest was still warm from where she had been pressed up against me.

“Shit,” I muttered as I licked my lips, my tongue ring hot from her tongue against mine. I didn’t notice anyone around me as I walked. I didn’t even realize I’d arrived home until I came to a stop at our dorm’s door.

As soon as I entered my room, I saw Easton on his painting stool, paint spilled all over his clothes, and a canvas covered in dark tones. I stared at the canvas. I was used to seeing his gaudy colors, not grays, browns, and dark reds.

Easton glanced over his shoulder. “Cromwell.”

I flicked my chin at him. But that was all he was getting. My head was full. Full of his twin sister and the taste she’d left in my mouth. I dropped down to my bed and stared at the ceiling. Closing my eyes, I saw her in my head. Her long brown hair. Her purple dress and brown boots. I palmed my eyes, trying to rid myself of the image.

“You were cruel tonight, Cromwell Dean. You were cold and cruel and unkind…”

The words sank down deep, stabbing in my chest. But the wounds were softened when I thought of her eyes after the kiss. Her swollen lips and flushed cheeks.

I opened my eyes. Easton was still sitting in the same spot, staring at the painting. “East?” My voice seemed to snap him out of whatever he was thinking. He’d been acting weird lately. Keeping more to himself instead of inserting himself into my life, invited or not.

Easton turned. “What?”

“I was calling your name.” Easton put down his brushes and paint palette. He ran a hand down his face. I looked at his painting. “Deep.”

He glared at the canvas then pulled a huge smile on his face. Shrugging, he got up from the stool and sat on the end of my bed.

“You get paint on my covers and you’re washing them.”

His eyebrows danced. “After Kacey was here, you’ll need to wash them anyway.”

Kacey…the memory left a sour taste in my mouth. I wanted to keep the memory of Bonnie there as long as I could. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to let it go.

“Didn’t shag her.”

“Not what Bonnie said.”

“She’s wrong.” I found myself drawn to the painting again. “Where’s all the neon?”

Easton exhaled a deep breath. “Not feeling it at the moment.” There was something different to his tone. I couldn’t place it. But it was forest green in color. “Where’ve you been?” he asked, changing the subject.

I shifted on the bed and pulled my laptop from my bedside table. I’d just uploaded more mixes. I checked the downloads—thousands. “Went for a coffee.”

“You see Bonnie? She’s always there weekends. The Barn’s not her scene.”

I shook my head, not meeting his eyes. “Nah. Didn’t see her.”

“She’ll have probably gone home. The open mic night’s tomorrow.” He made the comment so casually that I almost missed it.

“Open mic?”

Easton peeled off his shirt and got into his bed. He got his tablet and loaded up the next episode of whatever box set he was watching.

“She goes and watches it?” I asked, bringing up my music.

“She plays there.” Easton lifted his headphones. “I’m about to go dark.” I nodded as he put the headphones on and zoned out. I frowned, wondering what the hell Bonnie was doing at an open mic night. I thought her deal was classical composition? I started finishing off the mixes, but my head wasn’t in it. I couldn’t stop thinking of Bonnie. The kiss. Her eyes. The way I’d completely lost it when she’d told me to leave her alone with Bryce. And how she’d looked after the kiss. The way her brown eyes had locked on mine.

I closed my mixing program and brought up the coffee shop’s website. Open mic night. Started at eight tomorrow.

I shut my laptop, closing my eyes. All I saw was Bonnie’s pretty face, the sight making that tether inside me slacken.

“Cromwell?” Easton’s voice woke me from almost-sleep.

I cracked one eye open. “What?”

“Barn’s on tomorrow. You good for the decks?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, but instead I paused, then said, “Can’t. Busy.”

“Hot date, huh?”

I blew out a slow breath. “Just got somewhere to be.”

“Great. Stuck with Bryce again.” Easton returned to his tablet.

I lay awake until the sun rose.

I blamed it on the peach taste lingering on my lips.