He glanced up at me. “Hear it?”
I nodded. “How long have you been playing?”
“My dad said I was born with a guitar in my hands. I don’t have any memories of not being able to play.”
“What are you like some prodigy?” How did a little kid learn how to play the guitar?
Asher laughed, and it struck me anew how much I liked his appearance.
“No, not at all. My mom,” he gave me a look, “my biological mom, she’s really talented. My dad says I’m a lot like her.”
“Your biological mom?”
“Yeah, my parents divorced when I was two.” He started picking out a melody I hadn’t heard before. I tried to imagine what I would be like to have songs in my head like he did.
“So, you live with your dad?”
He nodded. “And my step-mom, Shari.”
“Do you have any siblings?”
“A little brother, Caleb. He’s ten months old.”
“A baby?”
Asher grinned. “You like babies?”
I scoffed. “Who doesn’t like babies?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After a couple of taps, he handed it to me. “Here’s a picture.”
“Oh my gosh! He’s so cute.” The picture showed a tiny baby, younger than ten months, propped on a pair of legs I assumed were Asher’s.
“Scroll through. I have a million.” He started playing again, and I thought he did it without even thinking.
I scrolled through his pictures. He hadn’t been lying. There were a lot of pictures of Caleb and quite a few with Asher, too, selfies of him making faces for the camera and Caleb laughing.
I stopped on one of Caleb playing in a toilet, grinning adorably. Lifting one brow, I tilted it toward Asher.
“Hey!” he cried, trying to take the phone away from me but I held it out of his reach. “I forgot that was on there. Shari would kill me if she saw it. I was supposed to be watching him when that happened.”
“You were babysitting and you let him play in the toilet?” Shaking my head, I made a tsk-ing sound with my tongue as I studied the picture again.
“I got distracted, okay? And I totally gave him a bath and even brushed his three teeth to be on the safe side. I’ve learned my lesson, too. I’m an amazing babysitter now.”
I scrolled through a couple more pictures before giving Asher his phone back. “He’s really cute.”
Asher slipped his phone back into his pocket. “He really is,” he said, his dark eyes meeting mine, holding me captive. “But I think we need to talk about your eavesdropping some more.”
Asher
The need to tease her had become irresistible. She liked listening to me sing and play, I knew she did. And it was intoxicating.
“It’s not really eavesdropping,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “You play outside where the whole world can hear you.”
“Hmmm. I guess that’s true,” I replied before slipping into the lyrics of the song I’d written a long time ago about friends, and love, and loss. I never took my eyes away from her as I sang.
I played the last note and silence hung between us.
“Did you write that?”
I nodded, desperately wishing she’d tell me what she thought. I kind of felt like I knew she liked my music, why would she have listened for so long if she didn’t, but I still wanted to hear her say it. Maybe someday.
“You’re really good, you know.”
She made a face. “What are you talking about? I can’t sing or play guitar.”
I grinned. “No, that’s not what I meant.” I cleared my throat. “I mean hockey.”
Her open expression closed a little and I felt a twinge of panic. I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t want to make her angry, either.
She shrugged. “I’m okay.”
“Okay?” I scoffed. “Jordan, you’re amazing.” I didn’t say it just to say it. “I mean it.”
She met my gaze with a direct one of her own. “Not as good as you.”
I didn’t deny it because she told the truth. “You want it more.”
For a long moment, she held my eyes, searching for some truth. If she asked me, I’d tell her. Right then, I knew I’d tell her anything.