17. Leyland

Leyland

7:45 P.M.

The lights and mellow music in The Velvet Keys piano bar wrapped around us like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

A gentle tune from the grand piano filled the room, and with Clementine beside me, dressed in that deep green silk dress that hugged her just right, I knew this moment was one I’d replay a thousand times over.

I watched her sip her drink, her fingers playing idly on the edge of the glass like they were keys. She had hands made for the piano, delicate yet sure, each touch soft but intentional. It amazed me that she could play with such skill yet rarely ever mentioned it to anyone else.

After we finished off our appetizers, I set my fork down and studied her for a moment. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows along her jawline, illuminating her cheekbones. There was something timeless about her, and tonight, I wanted to capture it all.

“How about a tradition?” I asked, my voice low.

Her eyebrow lifted, intrigued. “A tradition?”

“Would you play the piano for me while I sketch you? It’s a little thing they do here.” I gestured to the stage. “Guests perform, and artists get to capture a moment. It’ll just be us…well, mostly us.”

“You mean you want me to go up there and play in front of everyone?”

“Not everyone. Just me.” I held her gaze, trying to show her I meant it. “And you’re not just playing. You’re showing me something I’ve already seen in my dreams.”

She seemed to weigh it, her fingers brushing against mine on the table, grounding both of us in this shared moment.

Finally, she nodded, that playful glint in her eyes that I’d come to recognize.

“I might be a little rusty, but if you’re okay with that, then…why not?”

I rose and took her hand, leading her toward the piano. As she settled on the bench, she glanced at me one last time, a hint of nervousness in her smile.

“It’s just me,” I whispered.

Her fingers hovered for a beat before she started to play, a soft melody filling the room as it rippled out to where I sat just feet away, with the sketch pad open and pencil poised. She poured herself into each note, the music ebbing and flowing, and it was like she was telling a story—a story that only we understood.

The world around us seemed to dim. Every curve of her face, each expression, came alive in my mind and onto the page as I worked. As her fingers moved effortlessly across the keys, I felt myself pulled into the memory of her touch, her laugh, the feel of her hand fitting perfectly in mine.

It was all so vivid, as if we’d done this a thousand times before, and I realized I wanted a thousand more.

When she played the last note, the room broke into applause, but she barely seemed to notice, her eyes locked on mine. I held up the sketch I’d done of her. It was rough and I would finish it later but it got my point across.

She rose, walking to me slowly, her gaze fixed on what I was showing. “You…you saw all that?”

“I see you, Clem,” I said, the words heavy with meaning. “I always have.”

The unspoken weight of everything between us settled into something real, something undeniable. Tangible.

I reached for her hand, wrapping my fingers gently around hers, and led us through the patio door that opened to a private terrace outside.

“Leyland…” she murmured, her voice trailing off.

“I know,” I whispered, stepping in closer until our foreheads touched. “But I had to hold back. I needed to be sure that you were sure.”

Her eyes lifted to mine—wide, dark, and waiting.

More than fucking sure.

With my freehand, I let my fingers trace a line from her cheekbone down to her jaw, feeling her shiver under my touch. Her breath hitched as I tilted her chin up, my thumb brushing over her lower lip as it parted from the top slightly.

Without breaking her gaze, I leaned in and pressed my mouth softly against hers. Her lips were warm, soft, yielding, and mine .

She sighed into the kiss and a surge of desire pulsed through me that made my head spin. Her fingers found their way to my collar, curling into the fabric like she needed to hold onto something solid as our kiss grew more intense.

I let my other hand move, trailing over her shoulder and down her back, pressing her into me, until there was no space between us. Her lips grew bolder and I felt her hands slip up, fingers threading the back of my neck.

Clementine leaned into me fully, head tilting back as I traced kisses along her jaw and down to the delicate line of her neck, where her pulse beat steady and quick. Her breath came in soft gasps, as she gave herself over completely to the moment.

The city lights flickered in the distance, but here, in this private world we’d created, nothing else mattered.

I captured her lips once more, this kiss slow and lingering as she melted under my touch.

“Clementine…” I whispered against her mouth, voice rough with everything I felt for her but hadn’t yet said.

“I don’t want this night to end,” she muttered.

The softness in her voice, the vulnerability in her eyes—it washed over me in waves.

“It doesn’t have to. Your stuff is still at my place…”

I let that settle, knowing she’d get what I meant but leaving the door open in case she decided to change her mind.

“Then…” her eyes fluttered shut in thought but only for a moment. “Let’s go back to your place.”

The weight of those words hung between us, heavy with implication. I searched her eyes, wanting to be absolutely certain.

"Are you sure?" I asked, even as every cell in my body yearned to say yes.

She nodded, a daring smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I've never been surer of anything."

We were already in too deep and I wasn’t against submerging myself for more of her time. For… Fuck it.

We got out of there quick, the drive to my house quiet, filled with anticipation and stolen glances until her phone chimed back to back five times.

I could sense the shift in her energy almost immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing…” she sighed. “It’s James."

“Do you want to talk about it?”

"He's at the house, wanting to talk. Says it's urgent."

I glanced at her, trying to gauge her reaction. "Do you need to go?"

She was quiet for a moment, clearly conflicted. "I... I don't want to," she said softly. "But if it's really urgent..."

I nodded.

“If it’s really urgent you’ll regret not seeing for yourself. I understand your good heart.”

She wouldn’t completely write him off just because they had broken up and I never expected her to.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I hit a quick U-turn and headed in the direction of her place.

“Make that the first and last apology you give me on the matter, alright?”

Clementine nodded, her hand finding mine across the center console. We drove in silence, the anticipation from moments ago replaced by a heavy tension.

As we pulled up to her house, I could see what had to be James' car parked out front.

"I'll wait here," I said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Just until I know you’re good."

She hesitated, her hand on the door handle. "You don't have to wait. I don't know how long this will take."

Leaving her here while knowing what he’d done the last time they talked wasn’t on the table.

“Leyland—”

“My mind is set, tiny. Go handle that.”

Clementine gave me one last lingering look before stepping out of the car. I watched as she walked up to her front door, her posture tense. James emerged from the shadows of the porch, his face unreadable in the dim light. They exchanged a few words, Clementine's arms crossed defensively over her chest.

I couldn't hear what was being said, but I could read the body language. James seemed agitated, gesturing emphatically as he spoke. Clementine shook her head, taking a step back and I sat up, every instinct telling me to go to her.

She was strong, capable. She didn't need me to swoop in and save her but I would.

Any day.

Any time.

I kept my eyes trained on them, ready to intervene if needed. Their conversation grew more heated, James' voice raising enough that I could hear his words and the anger in his tone as he shouted, “What the fuck, Clementine! You brought him here and I’m supposed to be okay with it!”

Clementine's voice cut through the night air, just as sharp and clear. “What I do isn’t your concern anymore! You need to leave and we can try to have this conversation another day."

He reached for her arm as she went to move past him and I was out of the car before I could think.

“A surgeon needs his hands,” I said coolly, gaining their attention. “Do you want to retire early or have a long thriving career? Your choice but make it quick.”

“Is that a threat?” he asked, a venomous look in his eyes that didn’t move me one way or another.

“Never threatened anybody a day in my life but I’m pretty good at keeping promises.”

I cut my eyes at Clementine to find her watching me. There was no need to elaborate.

James knew what the fuck I meant and I hoped she did too.