Read Finding the Magic (Tom Kelly's Boys Book 1) Online
Authors: Casey McMillin
"I was just joking about your table, by the way. I'm still planning on making that for you," Drake said.
I was unable to take my eyes off of the bench. "No, really—you don't need to worry about that," I said, dazed by how taken I was with his work. "You were right about me not really wanting it. I mean, not that I didn't
want
it, but this bench is way better than that." I stared at it. "I can't even imagine what I owe you for this," I said. "It's priceless."
"I can't let you pay me for it," he said, "or the magic doesn't work."
I narrowed my eyes and pointed at him. "You have no idea how much I hate owing people. It's a curse from my dad. I totally stress about it. You'd be doing me a favor if you let me pay you for it."
"Yeah—no."
"Why?"
"Because it's a gift. Apparently you're terrible at taking them."
"I'm terrible when I've done nothing to warrant such an elaborate gift from you. Paying for my dinner might be a more suitable gift for people in our situation."
"What situation is that, exactly?" I gave him an exasperated look. "The situation of barely knowing each other."
"I thought I met you pretty good the other night. Or is that just how you greet everyone."
I narrowed my eyes again. "I just mean that—" I hesitated. "I don't know what I mean. I guess I'm just bad at receiving gifts, but it really does seem like too much."
"Well too bad."
I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to get across how much I loved it.
"Come on," he said. "Let's go hang out with everybody. You can check it out later."
"Drake?"
"Addie." He smiled and stared at me as I stood and crossed to the spot where he was standing.
"I need you to know how much I love it."
"I do."
"Good, because I love it like crazy."
"I know." He was wearing the easy smile that looked so natural on him, and I just stared at him—at his mouth, and jaw, and his perfect face.
"How long did it take you?" I asked.
"It doesn't matter," he said grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the shop and back into the living room.
We walked down the long hallway in silence, but he never let go of my hand. I wondered if he felt the same electricity I did when we touched. "I'm glad you're here," he turned and said to me just before we made it into the main living room.
I squeezed his hand. "Me too." For whatever reason, both of us took my squeeze as me saying I wanted to stop holding hands, so we let go, even though that was not at all what I was trying to do.
"Did you just come from your shop?" a girl asked. Her question came out immediately when we came into the living room. It shot out of her mouth as if she'd been standing there waiting for him to appear.
"Yeah, why?" Drake asked.
The girl was someone I didn't recognize. She appeared to be close to my age, and was cute like most of the other girls here. "Because I've been asking you to take me back there for
forever
," she groaned with wide eyes.
Drake turned to me. "Addie's dad is a carpenter," he lied, "she was raised in a shop."
Her eyes shifted to me and she smiled before rolling her eyes at Drake. "I'm Sara," she said. "I work with his dad and brother at Kelly Seafood. I've been after Drake for two years to let me see his shop." She reached out and pushed at his chest in a flirtatious way that made me wish we were still holding hands.
"I told you it's about safety. Addie knows what she's doing around all the equipment."
Sara looked at me as if she was deciding whether or not she believed that about me, and I just stood there and smiled at her.
"I'm gonna get you to show me where the magic happens if it kills me." She rolled her eyes at him again before she went back to the people she'd been standing with.
"Is your furniture seriously magic?" I asked as we walked through the living room and toward the patio.
"I already told you it was."
I thought about what Sara said, and realized that
where the magic happens
usually didn't refer to real magic.
"Why'd you let me back there?"
He glanced back at me before he answered, "Because I wanted to."
"Okay, I guess a better question is why don't you let other people back there?"
He stopped walking and looked at me. "Because it's my room and it's my shit in there. I only show it to the people I want, and that happens to be a select few. I let other people besides you back there—my dad, brother, a few friends, a few random strangers that I like immediately. There's no real rhyme or reason to who I choose or why."
I felt a surge of happiness that I was on the guest list.
"The bedroom too," he said.
"What?"
"My bedroom. Rory mentioned it earlier, and I know they're gonna give me a hard time about it in front of you, so you should know that I have another bedroom off the back hall—the one off the den."
I gave him a confused look, but he just shook his head like it was inconsequential and continued, "I have a bedroom in that hall. That's where I usually bring girls. The room I took you to is my real bedroom."
How could I feel so happy and disgusted at the same time? I loved the fact that I got to see his real bedroom, but wow, did he just tell me he had a second bedroom for the sole purpose of having sexual intercourse?
"Thanks—I think."
He smiled. "I'm just telling you that so you're not surprised when they make a big deal about it in the morning." I took an accidental shaky breath at his mention of me being there in the morning.
"The breeze feels so good," I said. The sun had already set, and the poolside lighting was beautiful. There was a strong breeze coming off the ocean, and it caused my hair to whip around. Drake's hair was tied back, but pieces had fallen out of the front and were whipping in the wind.
He pulled me into his arms, and I went willingly. He wrapped himself around me and I nuzzled my head into his chest. I could feel his chin on the top of my head, and I took a deep breath, feeling altogether safe and secure. This might be strange given the fact that I barely knew him, and he was most probably dangerous, but there's a lot to be said for trusting your instincts.
We stood on the patio for a few minutes before going inside to get a drink. Some of the guys, including Rory, were playing poker around a round table in the den, and Drake and I went in there with our drinks in hand.
"Did ye make any wee ones when you had her in the shop?" Rory asked as soon as we entered the room.
I cringed and told myself to remain calm if I wanted to keep my face from turning bright red.
"It looks like you're almost out of money," Drake said, ignoring Rory's comment.
Drake's observation set the other guys on a string of comments about how easy it was to take Rory's money in poker. Rory looked up at us, letting his eyes stop on me for a second before focusing on his hand.
"I hope she liked it," he said.
"She did."
"I loved it," I added.
"What'd she love?" one of the guys at the table asked.
"The furniture I made for her."
"I thought
I
was next," the guy said.
"Addison was," Drake said. "But yours is almost done."
Rory looked at me with an edge of frustration. Maybe I was reading too much into it, but it seemed like he was upset about how much time Drake put into my piece.
"I really love it," I said quietly looking right at Rory.
"I hope so," he said.
"She does," Drake said.
"Maybe I'll show you how it works later," I said, looking at Rory.
"Really?" Drake asked.
I let a smile touch my lips for his benefit, but continued to return Rory's stare.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you might get to hear her play."
Rory smiled and shrugged. He hadn't heard me play, and his indifference had me doing a mental search for the showiest piece I knew so I could make him
eat
his un-impressed-ness.
I knew what I would play with almost no consideration whatsoever. It was a three-minute section of a Mozart piece that was always a hit. I knew it forward and backward, and felt like I could easily pull it off in front of these guys. Maybe it was the bench, or maybe I just wanted to stick it to Rory, but I had no doubts or reservations about playing.
"Would you really play?"
"Yeah. It doesn't have to be right now or anything. But, yeah, if you want me to."
He smiled like he was really looking forward to it, and that made me smile too. "Will you do it right now?"
"I would, but there's just one thing."
"What?"
"I need my bench."
"Why's that a problem?"
"Because it's a little weird that I require special seating."
"That's not weird at all. That's what I made it for."
I shrugged. "I'll play whenever then, I guess, as long as I can have my bench."
"I'll go get it and put it at the piano, and you can play whenever you feel like it, how about that?"
"Sounds fun," I said, and I couldn't even believe that I meant it. I was looking forward to playing for the first time in months.
I stood there and watched Rory lose money while Drake went to the shop. It took him a while, and he said it was because a few different people stopped him to see what he was carrying.
"What'd they say about it?"
"It's beautiful and all the other things these people say to me because they're nice and they love me."
"They say that because it is beautiful, not just because they love you."
"So are ye gonna show me how it works?" Rory asked as he leaned back in his chair stretching his big arms toward the ceiling. He was officially out of money and was looking for something else to do.
"Let's do it," I said shrugging. The three of us went back into the living room, followed by two or three others who had overheard our conversation and were curious.
Drake had the bench in place, and I sat there with no hesitation. I motioned for Drake and Rory to come closer because I planned on playing discretely since we weren't making an announcement or anything. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I got started, then I went to work, doing what I did best.
I poured myself into that piece just as I would have done if I were playing for thousands. As I neared the end of the piece, I glanced up to catch some of my surroundings. I could see from the corner of my eye that most everyone there had stopped what he or she was doing to watch. I focused my attention back on the keys as I finished, loving the feel of familiar shapes my fingers fell into.
I smiled and looked up when I finished, and every single person in the room, including Rory, erupted into applause. A flame of excitement burned in my gut as I remembered what it felt like to have people applaud me. I heard someone whistle and looked up to find Rory with a thumb and finger in his mouth. He smiled at me, and I figured that was about as close to an apology as I'd get from him (not that he owed me one).
I mouthed a thank you to everyone for listening and for the round of applause, and I bowed just slightly before stepping around the bench to head for Drake.
"One more!" Tom Kelly yelled. I found him in the crowd, and smiled.
Drake was close enough to me that he said, "It's up to you, you don't have to," and no one besides me and maybe Rory heard.
"It's okay," I said.
I played Maple Leaf Rag by Scott Joplin. It's not a classical piece by any means, but it was a fun, novelty piece most of them had heard before. The people gathered in the living room of Captain Tom's were a gracious audience who looked like they were having fun and clapped and cheered when I finished.
I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders. That performance was a breakthrough for me—a miracle. It wasn't Carnegie Hall, but there was a spark of hope where there wasn't one before, and that was a wonderful thing.
The amazing sex we had that night in his
real
bedroom was wonderful too.
Drake Kelly took me to his room and wore me out for three hours before we collapsed into each other's arms. I rested my head on his chest and we stayed there, talking. He told me he liked me the minute he laid eyes on me, but that my playing was like a Siren calling to him. I knew men were attracted to my playing, but honestly, Drake was a different level of gorgeous, and I didn't think he was the type who'd be that impressed—especially by a couple of easier pieces like the ones I played.
I woke up in an empty bedroom, which was no easier to swallow than it was the last time it happened. This time was better, though. This time, he left a note. It was sitting on the foot of the bed, and I found it once I stood up to stretch.
"Addie, I've got your bench. If you want it, you have to find me. No sneaking off like last time."
He signed it at the bottom.
His handwriting was a neat, block print, and I smiled down at the note as I put it in my wallet. I was wearing one of his shirts, but I decided not to push my luck this time, so I changed into the clothes I had on the night before. I grabbed my purse before I went downstairs since it was likely I wouldn't be coming back up. I smiled at myself, thinking how sad it was that I was getting used to the protocol of a one-night stand.
It wasn't quite 10AM, so I went downstairs quietly. I had no idea where Rory or Tom's bedrooms were and didn't want to wake them. I went into the living room, but didn't see or hear anyone. I could see onto the patio, and knew he wasn't out there.
I was reluctant to go to the other areas of the house, so I paced around in circles for a while. My bench was still sitting at the piano, and I went over to it and looked at it for a few minutes. It was the most wonderful piece of furniture on the face of the earth, and I was still unable to believe it was mine.
I waited in the living room for what must have been five or ten minutes before I decided to go look for him. I'd later realize that I should have just sent him a text, but that didn’t register at the time. If I would have messaged him, I would have been able to avoid what happed next, but like I said, I didn't think of it at the time.
Instead, I decided to go check his shop.
I walked down the hallway that led to it, and as I approached, I could see the door was cracked and a light was on. I was reasonably sure I'd find him in there, and I walked toward the door with a smile… until I heard a very irritated voice coming from inside.
I knew it was Drake by his accent.
"If Dad has a problem with me, you can tell him to come talk to me."
"Ye know he's got a problem with keeping women in that part of the house," Rory said. "
First,
ye spent a whole week on that chair, and now she's sleeping in your bedroom. Ye keep sensitive shit in there, Drake. Ye can't be leaving her alone in there. Ye don't know her. She could be a cop."
"She's not a cop," Drake said.
"Ye don't know her," Rory said.
I was glad for their accents because I could clearly hear who was talking. I stood a few feet from the door, paralyzed with fear that one of them would open the door and catch sight of me.
Was this the sort of predicament Steven thought I'd get into? I knew I should turn around and go back down the hallway as quickly as I could, but my legs just wouldn't work.
"Dad doesn't want her around," Rory said. "He said she's gonna be a distraction."
"Dad can come talk to me if he has a problem, Rory. And she's not a distraction. I've had plenty like her that never amount to anything, and it's never affected my ability to work. She's the same as all the others."
"Why are ye letting her in your room then? Why are ye letting her back here? There's shit she shouldn't see in both places, and ye know that."
"She smart Rory. She knows we're not straight, and she still comes around. We can trust her."
"That just goes to show you how stupid ye are, Drake, because ye don't even know her."
There were a few seconds of silence and I thought the door might open, so I was poised to run.
"I'm done talking about it," Drake said.
His words had the type of finality that made me start walking away.
"Don't let her sleep in yer bedroom again, chief."
"Don’t tell me what to do, boss."
I had to get out of there. It sounded like neither of them were very happy with the other, and the last thing I wanted to do was get caught listening. I opened my purse and got my keys in hand as I ran silently through the living room.
In a moment of panic, I almost left without my bench. This was obviously not an option, so I ran over to the piano and scooped it up before I went to the door. I was
absolutely terrified
that they would come down the hall and catch me, and I ran as fast as I could, taking tiny, panicked gasps of air. I glanced back toward the hallway before starting for the door, and was relieved to see no one was there.
I held the bench out in front of me and ran quietly to the front door. I opened the door and put a foot out to hold it as I picked up the bench. In an amazing display of strength caused by adrenaline I effortlessly raised the bench over my head and carried it down the staircase and…
"Oh shiiiit! My car! I don't have my freaking car!" I said the words out loud even though I had just been trying to be quiet. Fear and dread hit me at the realization that I was unwanted and stuck without a ride.
The only thing I could think to do was go back inside and make it seem like I wasn't running off in case they come out of the shop. It was really my only option. My heart was about to beat out of my chest, but as calmly as I could, I opened the door and set the bench right inside. I figured I could just sit right there until I caught my breath. The very first thing I did once I got settled was place a call to Megan.
"Hello?" she said, sleepily.
"Hey, can you leave right now to come and get me? I'm fine I just need a ride." I was basically whispering, and I knew Megan would think I was in trouble, so I clarified. "I'm fine. I'm just trying to be quiet because I think they're still sleeping."
"No one's sleeping," Drake said.
My head snapped up to find him and Rory both standing at the doorway to the living room. He was smiling and Rory just stood there taking me in. I knew it was sort of weird that I was sitting on a piano bench right by the front door, whispering on the phone, so I smiled even though it was forced.
"Hey let me call you right back," I said to Megan.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I didn't know where Drake was, but I see him now," I lied. "I'll call you back in just a minute."
"Okay," she said.
I hung up and looked at the boys with what I hoped was a realistic looking smile. I was shaken to the core, and it was extremely hard to maintain my composure.
"I was in my shop. You should have just come back there," Drake said.
I almost made a sarcastic comment back, but caught myself. I was so nervous I didn't even know how to act. Rory just stood there looking at me with an unreadable expression. I smiled at him before my gaze shifted to Drake. "I'm gonna call my friend for a ride," I said, continuing to smile calmly. "I'll meet you in there if you want to hang out for a few minutes before she gets here." I gestured with a lift of the chin toward the living room, hoping they would go back the way they came.
Drake regarded me with a concerned expression and I broadened my smile to reassure him. "I told my roommate I'd help with yard work today," I said.
Rory was obviously bored with the conversation, and turned to walk in the other direction, but Drake lingered there with me. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step toward me.
"Fine," I said smiling. "I slept great, actually. I waited out there in the living room for a few minutes, but didn't want to come looking for you. I figured you were busy and didn't know where the others were sleeping."
"I told you in the note to come find me," he said.
"I didn't want to interrupt anything."
He stared at me for a second, and I thought he might just figure out that I stumbled upon him, but he didn't mention it when he spoke. "Make your call if you need to leave, but come back here when you're done."
"I will," I promised.
I got to the text Drake sent me a week before with his address. I copied it and pasted it on a text to Megan.
Me: "Here's the address. Come to the gate. Please let me know you got this so I can know what time."
She sent a text back right away.
Megan: "Be there in fifteen minutes."
Me: "Thank you."
I put my phone into my purse, and walked into the living room, leaving my bench by the door. Rory was standing at the bar looking down at the newspaper, and Drake was sitting on the couch. He patted the spot next to him, and I walked over there.
"Are you too good for my clothes?" he asked. His smile made it obvious that he was joking.
"I wanted that shirt I had on, but the bench is already too much," I said.
I left some space between us when I sat down, and he moved his leg over so that it was touching mine. My heart was already acting funny, but it skipped an extra beat when he bumped into me. I looked up at him, and he studied my face. "Kiss me," he whispered.
"No," I whispered back.
"Why not?"
"Because your brother's right there."
"You kissed me in front of him last night."
"That was different. We all had a few drinks last night," I said. I didn't add that I had just heard their conversation and knew his dad and brother hated my guts. Drake leaned down and kissed me without my permission. I was defenseless. I wanted him so badly that I kissed him back even though every ounce of my common sense told me not to. Rory was probably planning ways to murder me right then, and I didn't even care. The beautiful, curved lips of Drake Kelly, warm and wet on mine, trumped
everything
—even death. He broke the kiss and leaned back on the couch.
"When can you come over again?" he asked. I laughed internally, thinking I would have already been gone for good if my car had been there. I thought back to the fight he had with his brother a few minutes ago. I knew Drake said some pretty horrible things about me. I couldn't recall exactly what he said, but it was something to the effect of,
she means nothing and she's just like all the other girls
. I felt a pain in my heart at the thought. My chest literally ached.
"What's the matter?"
"Me? Nothing."
"You didn't answer me," he said. "When can we do this again?"
"Probably soon," I lied. "I'm about to get slammed with school, though." I added that last part because I was a terrible liar, and I felt bad about not giving some sort of excuse before I disappeared.
Rory spoke to me a little. I tried not to be awkward with him, but I couldn't help but be more guarded than usual. The next ten minutes went by really fast, and before I knew it, Drake was walking me out to meet Megan. He opened the gate, and Megan pulled up, stopping near the bottom of the stone stairway. They spoke for a minute while we found a spot for the bench. Megan fussed over how nice it was, and Drake said it was a fun project. They exchanged a few niceties before we got in the car to head home.
On the way home, I told Megan the whole story about the bench, and me having fun playing for the first time. Then I told her about overhearing a conversation that made me think twice about ever seeing him again. She didn't offer much advice, because she could see that I was just venting and wouldn't really be receptive to it anyway. She was kind enough to tell me she'd be there if I needed her, but understood if I just wanted to go off to my room to be alone.
I took my bench into my room with me. I set it against the wall near my bed. The first thing I did, obviously, was take a hot bath. I stayed in there for at least twenty minutes, soaking all my cares away. Maybe not, but at least it felt good, and it was a tiny distraction. After my bath, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling while I composed my thoughts. When I did compose them, it was in the form of a letter to Drake.
This is what it said:
Drake,
I'm writing to let you know that I won't be able to see you anymore. Unfortunately, I'm more invested than I thought I'd be, and I know neither of us is looking for that right now. I'm so glad we met, and I have no regrets whatsoever, but it's time to go ahead and cut our losses. I need you to know that the bench is so very special to me. The check I've enclosed doesn't even begin to represent its worth. It is absolutely priceless to me, and the money is just a small token for the time and materials you used. It's not enough, but please accept it. You're a truly talented artist, and I'm humbled by such thoughtfulness. Thanks a million and take care.
Yours truly,
Addie
I put it in an envelope along with a check for three thousand dollars. I was reasonably sure that wasn't enough, but I was a frugal person, so it felt like a grand gesture. It was the amount that felt right for closure—the amount I decided would free my mind of feeling like I owed him something. I sent the letter and check to him the very next morning.