Word of Mouth by Tymber Dalton

Author:Tymber Dalton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Published: 2018-12-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Jonah wished he could drag Gordon out of the green room and make love to him again. If he could get him in bed, he could get him to listen.

That was one place where they’d never had trouble communicating. That, and while playing together.

The two of them, it was more like two hands playing one instrument than two people playing different ones, that’s how seamless their duets had always sounded.

He’d been an idiot to think any differently, to believe he could have ever truly succeeded without Gordon at his side.

He’d wanted to follow Gordon outside to his car when he went to get his instruments, but Doyle caught his eye and gave him a little shake of his head, and instead slipped out the door after Gordon.

Maybe that was for the best. A third-party—a qualified third-party—to talk to him.

Jonah had already confessed to Doyle. Maybe Doyle could help Gordon understand Jonah wasn’t playing him.

Jonah moved into studio one and set up his Ibanez and amp, started tuning it. As the others moved into the studio, Mal grabbed his acoustic.

“Oh, hey, get your mandolin.”

Jonah swapped out the Ibanez for it and, with Mal leading on guitar, played the song for Rich and the others. Gordon returned at the tail end of it, freezing as he walked through the door and spotted the mandolin in Jonah’s hands.

Maybe something can convince him I mean what I say.

When they finished the song, everyone else broke into applause. Rich patted Jonah on the shoulder. “Dude, that’s perfect. Man, if we could hone that before we leave, we could debut it at the concerts for the acoustic set.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Mevi said. “It’s perfect. And now I can finish the lyrics, since we’ve nailed down the feel of it.”

Everyone was still setting up, tuning, or shuffling sheet music around when Jonah had another idea. He swapped back to the Ibanez and turned down his amp so it wasn’t drowning out conversation-level talking. He started playing “Cavatina,” his gaze focused on Gordon, who was now set up on the other side of the room.

Come on, Master. Play with me. You know you want to.

He started slowly, watching Gordon.

Praying.

He started picking up the tempo a little, still hoping Gordon would join him. It took another couple of bars, but finally, he did.

Jonah blinked back tears as he played, trying to will Gordon to just look at him.

But Gordon wouldn’t. He kept his focus on his guitar, playing the duet the way they used to. Sure, it wasn’t a classical guitar Gordon was playing, but on his old Martin, it still sounded beautiful, rich.

The others fell silent, watching them, listening, the old call-and-answer sections they’d always included in the piece, their custom addition. Jonah naturally fell into the harmony while Gordon continued in the original melody as it was written, before their next bit of customization.

The song had been theirs. Whenever they played together, if it was a gig where they could play classical, they always included this number.

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