When Light Breaks by Patti Callahan Henry

Author:Patti Callahan Henry [Patti Callahan Henry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance
ISBN: 9780451218346
Publisher: NAL Trade
Published: 2006-05-02T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

The concert exceeded my expectations in every way. I’d believed that true beauty resided only within the tumul tuous natural world outside my door, or within classical music and the human form, but this concert took me away on wings of something far beyond my experience.

Jack had dropped me off to the side where I could see half the stage. Isabelle came to me, grabbed a water bottle and drank it, narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re not messing with Jack, are you?”

“Excuse me?”

“He’s different, better than anyone you know.”

I nodded. “I know . . . I knew him—”

“Before me, I know that. But you haven’t known him after me.” Isabelle’s lip curled up on the left side.

“I wasn’t going to say that. . . . I was going to say I knew him a long time ago. That’s all. I’m not messing with anyone.”

She nodded and returned to the stage, where her voice—rough and melodic—came through the echoing speakers as she backed up a song with Jimmy. I attempted to hear the words, but found I could only take them in a visceral manner, not understanding the exact meaning.

I lost myself in the music until we returned to their hotel. I curled up in the corner of the couch and watched, listened as the group talked about how the concert had gone, where they needed to make changes and how to switch the song list around.

I closed my eyes and allowed the conversation to soothe me like a lullaby, laughter punctuating each sentence. When quiet followed, I opened my eyes to see Jack staring at me. We were the only ones remaining in the room.

“Where did everyone go?” I stretched.

“It’s two a.m.—they’ve gone to bed.”

“It’s two in the morning?” I shot to my feet, glanced around the room for my purse with a frantic twist of my head.

“You can have the bed, Kara. I’ll sleep on the couch.” Jack pointed to the rumpled all-white bed.

I shook my head. “I’ve got to go home.”

He laughed, but with a sweet sound behind it—like a best friend laughs at your bad joke. “And exactly how do you plan to do that?”

I groaned. “There’s no way I could drive an hour and a half right now. I don’t even know where my car is. . . .” I plopped back down on the couch.

Jack sat down beside me and draped his arm around my shoulder. “Go—you take the bed.”

“I couldn’t do that to you,” I said, and yawned. “Jack?”

“Yes?” He pulled me closer.

“Did you write all those songs?” I closed my eyes again, the smooth current pulling me under.

“Yes.” His voice came soft, like cashmere thrown over my shoulders.

“Hmmm,” I think I said, then slid into the warm, plush place of his words, his shoulder.

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