Chapter 8

Austen

Something happens in the meeting Corrin has with Mr. Stryker. I'm not sure what it is exactly. I only know that I'm told to wrap up for the day and go home. Corrin is waiting for me near the elevators, and he too doesn't seem surprised in the slightest that I'm only leaving less than an hour after my arrival.

"Did you get me fired?" I ask when we're alone in the elevator.

Corrin slams a hand on the emergency stop button. "What the hell, Austen? Why do you think you're fired? Did Evan say something?"

I shake my head. "Of course not. It's just strange for me to be going home already. Mr. Stryker speaks to you for a few minutes and then suddenly I'm done for the day. It's suspicious."

He laughs as he crowds closer to me. "It is, isn't it? But no, you're not fired. And Miguel is — well, he's trying to solve some problems. Stuff I can't really talk about. He encouraged me to take you home and play you the new song I wrote."

"You wrote a new song?" My heart beats rapidly at the idea of hearing him play for me. Just for me.

I've listened to him play before, sure. Every album is loaded on my phone, and I even have vinyls tucked away in my closet, so Tennyson doesn't mock me.

But to hear it live, and before anyone else, is an honor.

Corrin presses the button to get us moving again. "I did write something new. You up for giving me feedback?"

"Yes," I say a bit too quickly. He doesn't call me out on it as we make our way to the car, though his grin tells me he definitely noticed.

When he climbs behind the wheel and starts driving, I think nothing of it. He was the one who dropped me off, so it makes sense that he would drive us back home. Except that's not what he does.

I recognize the restaurant we pull up to. It's one that I've heard my classmates talk about, though I've never ventured to it myself. Mainly because it costs a pretty penny to eat there.

Uncle Kelvin might be willing to help financially, but I do my best to make sure he doesn't have to spend an inordinate amount of money on me. Tenn has already graduated and is working for Corrin, so he doesn't have as much in the way of bills. I'm still somewhat of a dependent.

It's why the internship is so important to me. I want to pay my own way. Especially now that my uncle is in a relationship and building his own family. He took me and my brother in when no one else could. Now he gets to have his own happily ever after. And I really want to be able to say that he's not supporting me financially as he does so.

"Your brother mentioned that this was somewhere you wanted to eat when I texted him."

"When did you have the chance to text him?"

"While Evan was telling you to wrap up your day. I know you had cereal for breakfast, but that can't possibly be enough food for you. This place has brunch."

The way he says brunch makes me think he"s trying to relay something important like nuclear launch codes or an obvious piece of information. All I hear is that it's a meal that's not quite as large as it should be, but it has a devoted set of followers.

"I could eat."

His face falls a bit at my response. It's like he thought I would be overjoyed. I refuse to fake it, especially when I can tell he's keeping something from me. He basically said he was. Although I know that Stryker likes to keep things close to the vest, I still feel uneasy.

And I'm really kind of pissed that we didn't go straight home. I would've loved to listen to him playing instead of being out eating like this.

Corrin taps my leg to get my attention. "Hey, are you Ok? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, you didn't do anything." I worry admitting this much to him is dangerous. If he knows just how I am with Loveless, it could freak him out.

"But…"

"But it"s odd that we're going out to eat when you were talking about taking me back to the house to play music. I was really looking forward to that."

There. I said what I needed to say. It's not awkward. It's honest.

His mouth curves wickedly. "You were excited to get me home?"

I shove his shoulder. "Don't twist my words. I'm… a fan of your group. Of your band."

Of you.

Best that I not say the last one. He doesn't need to know just how deep the admiration runs.

"While I would love to go straight home and dive into the music, I know myself well enough to know that if I don't eat now, I never will. I woke up late this morning and then your brother came out and tried to have a heart-to-heart with me." he rolls his eyes, making him look a bit too much like Tennyson.

"A heart to heart?"

"Yeah. I think he's hiding something. This co-worker space of his can't be all that great to keep him longer than a normal nine to five. The Tennyson I know and love is very much about getting it done quickly so he can relax."

I'm all over his words. He's not wrong. My brother has been putting in more hours at the temporary office. He has a space he can use in the apartment; however, he finds himself growing bored at home. Creativity finds him when he"s out and about more than it does in our small bedrooms.

Still, I can't believe that he"s using all this time to work. Corrin must be right. He's hiding something.

It would also explain why he's digging into Corrin's life. He"s trying to deflect.

"Ok then. We go eat, and after that, we can face the music," I tell him.

He snorts. "I don't know what I'm going to face the music for, but I'll just plead my case to the judge, and I'm sure he'll get me off."

I don't have time to be embarrassed at his word choice before he's climbing out of the car and making his way around to me. Looks like another date. Are they dates? Or am I making this into something bigger than it needs to be?

All he did was drive me to school and walk me to class yesterday. But then he also came to my job to pick me up and spoke to my boss. And today he had a meeting and somehow managed to get me off work early.

Everything we do is just us. It doesn't have to have a label like date or romance. What does it matter when it's all fake anyway?

By the time we make it back to the apartment, I'm stuffed full of food and so is Corrin. We sampled a bit of everything they had in the restaurant. It wasn't our intention, but when the chef found out Corrin was there, he insisted.

Now I feel like I need to be rolled into the living room from how much we consumed. Every bite tasted hand crafted to my likes. After an experience like that, I can see why everyone loves going there.

Though I know a big part of why it was so great had to do with the man I went with. Sure, the food is great all the time. The preferential treatment helped though.

"I wish I'd put on something looser before eating. I feel like I'm going to explode." Corrin whimpers as he drops to the couch.

"Too full to play me the song?"

He scowls at my question. "Never! Hand me that beauty." He nods to the corner where I see a baby blue guitar propped on a stand.

I'm extra careful handling his instrument. There"s no denying it's gorgeous, which in Corrin's world means it cost more than I would like to attempt to replace should I damage it.

The minute the guitar is in his hands, Corrin lights up. He sighs, then sits forward on the couch, his legs spreading wide.

"Have a seat. I want you to get the full experience."

I follow his command, my body dropping to the coffee table so I can be across from him. It's weird being this close when we're not doing the pretend dating thing. I still itch to touch him, to know that he's as comforting as he was before.

The first part of the song begins slowly with a haunting melody that is nothing like Loveless's reputation. I hold my tongue to see if he'll change as he continues.

Emotion bleeds out around us with each note strummed and every word he sings. The song speaks of pining. It's a wanting so strong, the writer can't imagine life without a chance, without an opportunity to find out if he can have forever with his love.

It's magnificent. The kind of song used in movie scores and graduation videos. The type people will remember long after it's dropped from the top 100 of whatever chart it climbs.

"That was beautiful," I tell him the minute his voice and the music fades. "You wrote that yesterday?"

He nods as he fiddles with the strings. His gaze is somewhere off to the side, the openness I usually find with him closed off now that he's admitted to putting his heart out there.

"Well, whoever it is you feel that way about is lucky. That's the type of love my mom longed to find. The kind Uncle Kelvin has now. I hope you get your chance."

As his gaze swivels my way, I catch a hint of something in them. Something I can't define, yet I feel it burn me to my core.

"I hope so too. Want to hear another melody I'm working on? This one isn't finished yet."

I don't miss the distraction technique. It's obvious he's not planning on telling me who he wrote the song for. Hopefully, whoever it is doesn't get discouraged by our fake dating ploy.

Maybe when this is said and done, he'll be able to explain everything to them. Then the pair can live happily ever after.

My gut turns at the thought.

How strange. Why would thoughts of Corrin married and happy make me feel sick?

It's something I don't have time to analyze as he picks up with the next song. Instead of dwelling on myself, I focus on the man before me and his gift for music.