He smiles.
He starts to play.
And then, we both sing.
Playing around with the chorus leads to reformatting the whole song until my voice shadows his all throughout on different lines.
Another half hour passes before we’re both on the other side of the glass, sitting with Jared, listening to the results.
“This is so freaking surreal,” I mumble under my breath standing back while the guys express their thoughts a great deal louder and with animated gesturing. When they replay it a second time, Knox turns back, reaching an arm out for me, drawing me back in.
“You don’t hide from this,” he tells me, curling his arm around my waist until I’m snug at his side. “You own it.”
“Definite contender for the next album,” Jared agrees. “Hell, I could see this being a single. Radio would love it.”
“Right,” I roll my eyes at the notion. Me. Singing back up on a Knox Marley song. On the radio. “And then I’ll just start touring with you, so we can perform it this way too.” I laugh. Because I’m joking.
“I could definitely be into that.” Knox just sucked all the humor out of it.
“That’s not -,” I stammer. “Let’s not get crazy.”
Or crazier than we’ve already gotten.
“You’re right,” he agrees. “One thing at a time.” He points at the clock. “And our next thing, is getting back to the dance studio to pick up Sloan.”
We had like three minutes before I was going to mention it. But I’m over the moon for the simple fact that I didn’t have to. He remembered. In some small way, Sloan was important enough to contend with his work. And while that’s a natural way of operating for me, it’s not something she’s ever experienced with a male figure in her life.
“Brother.” Knox and Jared embrace. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, my man.” They release each other, still smiling.
Two grown men, showing affection and genuine appreciation. It’s a lovely thing to watch.
“Kenley,” Jared turns his attention toward me, extending his hand and pulling me in for a hug the second I take it, “until we meet again.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” I smile up at him as I step away again. “Thanks for letting me come and play.”
“With that voice? You come play anytime you like,” he teases. I think.
Jared walks us to the door, slipping Knox a jump drive as we’re walking out. “Take this, too,” he says, handing Knox a guitar case that’s been leaning up against the wall in the foyer. “It’s a spare. Hang onto it until you’re reunited with your own.”
Knows nods, both hands full now and unable to gesture his gratitude any other way. “Thanks, man.”
“Don’t mention it.” Jared grins, waving when we part ways at the stoop.
“I’ll be around through the weekend if you have another stroke of genius tomorrow morning,” he calls after us as we near the truck.
“I may take you up on that,” Knox yells back as he opens the door for me to get in.
I’m almost getting used to it.
Enough at least, to not be so dumbstruck by the gesture I can’t move fast enough to make my own.
“Thanks,” he says, grinning when he reaches the driver’s side door to find I’ve already popped it open from the inside.
“No problem.” I sigh internally. Maybe the last few years of wondering and worrying about how much I’ve forgotten about how one behaves in a partnership were for naught. Maybe, just maybe, I’m not horrible at this after all.
The drive back to the dance studio is a new sort of bliss. We’re comfortable. We talk. And now, thanks to his efforts to include me in his world as he’s been part of mine, what I know of him feels deeper, more real.Suddenly I have this whole new insight into his life. I know what it looks like now if he talks about working on a song or his interactions with a producer. I’ve seen the expressions dance on his face while he fiddles with his guitar. Know the way he closes his eyes when he’s stretching his vocals, searching for exactly the right sound. I’ve heard him laugh at his mistakes. Seen him get silent when he’s stuck and working out his way around the obstacle.
