Too bad the truth is often crippling.

When I arrive, I find the door open and Rhys is already sitting behind the piano, touching the keys carefully. At the sound of me rushing into the room, he lifts his chin, a wave of surprise passing over his face because he probably didn’t expect me to show up. He quickly replaces it with a cordial smile.

“Shut the door behind you?” he requests.

“Yeah, of course.” I close it with the heel of my foot and then press my back up against it, wringing my fingers together. “Look, let me start by saying—”

Giving me a view of the top of his dark hair, he keeps his gaze down on the piano keyboard as he interrupts me, explaining in his soft Southern accent, “My wording on that email last week was all wrong.” I finally recognize the song he’s playing as a version of “Yesterday,” stripped of any extra accompaniment, and I can automatically hear the lyrics in my head. “It wasn’t the best of days for me, and I took it out on you. I’m gonna be honest and tell you that I don’t regret calling you out, but I do regret the manner in which I did it.”

Well, hell. Can he be any more blunt? “I—”

“I know I’m not Professor Cameron, and  I might not look like what you’d expect from a voice instructor, but I know what I’m doing. I’m fucking good at what I do. If you’ve learned anything about Cameron, you’ll know she doesn’t screw around when it comes to this department.”

“I know.”

Drawing in a harsh breath, he stands up, leaning against the backside of the piano and standing close to me. I blink, unable to form a response. “I’m not gonna beg you to come to your lessons, Evelyn. I don’t beg, and I’m sure as hell not gonna do it when it comes to something that only serves to benefit you, but I would think you’d want to improve.”

“I do.” I splay my palms out against the door behind me, pushing as hard as I can. “I’m sorry I missed our lessons.”

“Do you plan to start coming?”

“I—” I feel my face heat up under his intense scrutiny. I’ve wrestled with this in my head since figuring out who he is, but this is something I have to do. Not only if I want to end this year on a positive note, but also if I want to grow up, as Rhys had put it in his email. No matter how much it screws with me, I can’t spend my life maneuvering out of everything that makes me face my past and all my screw-ups.

I can get through this year.

And I can do it without ever telling Rhys about our shared history.

I have to.

“Yes,” I say in a small voice, “I’ll be here on Friday.”

“Next Tuesday,” he corrects me. When I lift my eyebrow, he continues, “I’m leaving town Friday for the long weekend, and Monday is a holiday.”

Damn. I’d almost forgotten about the long weekend, and neither of my parents has made a move to even ask me if I had plans to come home during it.

“And then,” he tells me coolly, “We’ll meet again on Thursday because Cameron asked me to add in an extra day of lessons with you.”

Crap. I had hoped to get ahold of him before she did. “Oh, wow ... she works fast.”

Confused, he narrows his eyes. “She asked me yesterday.”

I give myself a chance to process the fact that my advisor went to him well before talking to me about an extra day of lessons, and then I accept defeat and nod. “Rhys? Why did you tell her I’ve been coming to practice? I mean, what do you gain from it?”

Shaking his head, he laughs as he goes back behind the piano to grab his laptop bag. He strides back over to me wearing a sardonic grin. “This is my job. Nobody wants to admit to screwing up when they don’t even know why it’s happening. So that’s why I want this from you: If there’s something about me that has you doubting my abilities, or doubting your future here, get it the hell out right now.”

Tearing my gaze from his, I stare at a mismatched tile on the floor right at the corner of the piano. “There’s nothing,” I lie.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Of course there isn’t,” he drawls. “But in case there is, let me get this out there for you. If you don’t show on Tuesday, I won’t come back. Like I said, I’m not going to beg you to come to me.”

Inadvertently, he’s giving me a chance to get all my baggage out in the open, but I still hold on to the idea that I’ll be able to handle my personal issues without involving him. He has yet to figure out who I am thus far so there’s no reason in making him uncomfortable too, is there?

“What are you thinking?” he murmurs, twisting his head a little so he can get a good look into my eyes.

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been trying to figure out what your problem is, and it’s killing me not knowing.”

He’s spent his precious time trying to figure me out? The mere thought of him doing that sends a trill of electricity coursing through me. “And you have theories?” I whisper.

“Besides you doubting me? The only other one I could think of is—” When he cuts himself off, sliding the tip of his tongue over the corner of his full lips and then shooting me a cocky grin, I suddenly have to know the rest. There’s no way I’m leaving this room without him coming out with it. I gesture for him to continue and under his breath he mutters that I asked for it before saying, “I thought you might be afraid to be around me because you couldn’t resist ... my natural charms.”

His natural charms.

Dear lord. Did he really just say that? Giving him a tight smile, I shake my head. “Fortunately for you I’m very much immune to your natural charms, so I think we’re good for Tuesday.”

Looking unconvinced, he points out, “You asked me to tell you.”

“And now that you have, and I’ve told you that’s the least of your worries, we can get through this semester.”

He motions for me to move away from the door, and as he exits, his body skims mine, waking every nerve ending, every pulse point, in the process. From the way his gaze lowers to my face, I have a feeling the touch was intentional just to test me.

“Trust me, it makes things so much easier,” he says. “I’ll see you Tuesday at four. And, Evelyn?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget what I said. I’m not going to beg you to work with me. It has to be something you want for yourself or we’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Noted.” I nod. “I’ll be there.”

As I walk back to my dorm to meet my roommate, and probably Hollister too, for dinner, I do my best to ignore the fact that the right side of my body is still tingling from rubbing up against Rhys.

Chapter Seven

“You know, you’ve never mentioned where home is,” Nathan says from his perch on my computer chair late Friday morning as I pack a few pairs of shorts in a tiny duffle bag.

After Ensemble Choir—which is the only class either of us has on Fridays—we ate a late breakfast together along with my suitemate Lara, who’s also in choir, before she took off for her next class. I’d invited him back to my room to help me pack.

Nathan is officially the first guy I’ve personally invited inside my room here—another record for me compared to last year after my breakup with James—but there’s also not an ounce of attraction between us. While I have no intention of prancing around in my bra and panties in front of him, I also know he has no ulterior motives. I can always appreciate that in a guy, especially one with a longtime girlfriend.

“Can you hand me that?” I gesture to the straw hat sitting beside his bottle of green tea. He tosses it to me like a Frisbee where it lands on the top of my bag. “And I know I haven’t mentioned where home is.”

“I can’t even find you on Facebook. Or Instagram. Would it offend you if I ask you if you’re from one of those The Hills Have Eyes type of places?”

I grin and toss my toothbrush in the front pocket of the bag. “No, but only because I’ve never seen the movie.” Pulling each zipper closed, I push myself to my feet and stretch my arms and legs. “I live on the border.”