Mad Boys (Blue Ivy Prep, #2)(42)

The tempo was almost perfect. But it needed something more. I could hear it but I couldn’t see the notes. Maybe if KC added lyrics, I’d find it and since we communicated with music so much better than words…

I’d finally decided to just pin it to her door when she came back from—I had no idea where she’d been actually. But she had her phone to her ear. When she saw me, she held up one finger.

“No, I get that, Bron, but I still want to do something.” She rolled her eyes in that exasperated way as she slid her backpack off and set it right next to the sofa. Her shoes came off next, but she didn’t leave them out here.

Instead, she carried them with her into her bedroom. The fact she didn’t close the door all the way meant she was coming back out, so I waited.

“Really?” The huff of laughter took any sting out of those two syllables. “You know, that just means I’ll work harder to get it done.” She chuckled and all at once her voice just softened. “Yeah, me too. Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

Bron. That was a guy’s name. I really shouldn’t be listening to her conversation, and I wasn’t trying. Instead, I just waited as I turned over who was Bron in my head. When she padded back out, she was in shorts and a tank-top.

“Hey,” she said. “I picked up the research folder from the library for you.”

Oh. “Did I leave it?” Had I forgotten it?

“I guess,” she said, as she pulled it out of her backpack. “Soren said you were there earlier and this was on your table after you left.”

I took the red folder and stared at it. I’d been color-coding this year to try and stay ahead on everything. This wasn’t homework, it was college research. I hadn’t made up my mind about going to school yet.

“Anyway,” she said. “I want Chinese. Want some?”

“I don’t like Chinese,” I said absently. “Food poisoning when I was a kid. It just makes me want to vomit now.”

Her grimace made me shrug. “I don’t care if you get it, I just don’t like eating it.”

“Tacos?”

“You said you wanted Chinese.”

“Not if it’s going to make you puke.”

That was… nice. “I can go somewhere else. Here.” I thrust the music out at her and she took it slowly.

“You don’t have to go anywhere else…tacos are fine. Pizza is fine. We could go to the dining hall…” Then she made a face.

“You don’t like the dining hall?”

She shrugged. “Everyone is talking about the social this weekend.”

“Are you going?”

“I don’t know…last year I got paint dumped on me when I went, so maybe not.” With that, she flopped down onto her spot on the sofa with the music, her eyes on the page.

“I won’t let anyone do that this year.” That was totally Lachlan and Payton. I was pretty sure it had more to do with RJ and not her.

Mostly.

Still…

She didn’t say anything as she flipped through the music sheets. When she started to hum, I held my breath. Sweat prickled along my back. The humming went on for a lot longer than five minutes…

“That…” I said abruptly. “Go back and do that again.”

She glanced up at me. “What?” The slow, almost owlish blink. Had she forgotten I was here?

“That last couple of bars, hum them again.” It was a command, but…”Please?”

She backed up a few bars in the music then dropped into a lower octave as she hummed the same passage again.

“Different key.” That was what I was missing. “Take it lower…” I eyed the music pages she was holding.

Head tilted, she glanced from the music to me and then handed me the pages back. “Want to change it before I add the lyrics?”

Yes. “Thank you.” I retrieved my pencil before I took the other side of the sofa. I erased everything after the first third, then rewrote it, taking it into a lower key with each third until I got to the end.

When I finished, KC got up and went to her room. She returned with her guitar and settled back on the sofa. Spreading the music out in front of her on the table, she studied it for a moment.

I should go.

Then she started to play.

I really should go.

But I couldn’t move a muscle as her fingers danced over the strings, giving life to the music in my head.





Eighteen





KC


My phone vibrated as the messages came in while I was in the shower. I had to get the color depositing conditioner on and leave it while I washed the rest of me, so whoever wanted to blow my phone up would have to wait. I had to be ready to go when the car got here, and that meant stopping by Ramsey’s room to sign myself out.

Yippee.

Couldn’t wait.

Ten minutes later, with the towel wrapped around my midsection and tucked between my breasts, I ran the comb through my damp hair. The color-deposit would lift the color and I could make an appointment to get my hair redone closer to the holidays.

A message flashed over the screen.

Aubrey



Car will be here in twenty minutes. Overnight bag packed. Grab yours. Train is booked. Yvette will meet us and the guys are picking us up when we get to Baltimore.