Part 10 (1/2)
The queasy feeling in his gut had to be anxiety and antic.i.p.ation. It was unlike him to be nervous. He'd been accused of having ice in his veins, but he liked the reckless nature of what he'd just entered into. For all his brash confidence earlier, he wasn't totally sure of Tyler, but all he risked was money and he had plenty of that.
”Wilson can take you to your place tomorrow to get your things.”
Tyler turned to face him. ”I can do it myself. Anyway, you might be sick of me by tomorrow.”
Wilson dropped them off at the front door and then drove to the garage at the rear. Tyler stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the building.
”Which floor's your apartment?”
”All of it. It's a townhouse.”
Tyler laughed. ”f.u.c.k.”
Haris unlocked the dark blue front door and stepped aside so Tyler could enter. When he'd closed and locked the door, he took off his coat and swallowed hard. He'd spent a fortune getting that grand piano delivered today and he couldn't wait to see Tyler's face when he saw it.
”Take a look around. But not down those stairs. That's where Wilson lives. There are two floors above this one. Two bedrooms on the first, one of them mine. You can have the other or choose one on the next floor. They all have their own bathroom.”
”Sure you don't want me to share with you?”
”I figured you might need your own s.p.a.ce, at least some of the time.”
Tyler smiled and Haris's happy c.o.c.k thrust hard against his zipper. Tyler took off his jacket and hung it on the banister. Haris followed him as he walked around the ground floor making appreciative noises about the huge TV, the spotless kitchen, more about the TV, the sound system, the TV again.
When Tyler finally pushed open the door to the room at the front, he took two steps and stopped short. Haris watched him stare at the piano, saw the Adam's apple rise and fall in his throat and guessed he'd found a way to Tyler's heart.
”I thought you said you didn't play an instrument?” Tyler ran his fingers along the curve of the piano's body.
”I don't.”
”Who does? Wilson?”
”No.”
”So...is this for show?”
”I don't buy things for show. I buy them to enjoy or as an investment. I bought this for you. I thought you could practice here instead of at college. If you last four months, it's yours to keep.”
”f.u.c.king h.e.l.l.”
Chapter Seven.
Tyler spun away from the piano and kissed him with such force that Haris staggered back in astonishment. He clamped his hand to the back of Haris's neck, pressed his tongue hard against his lips and Haris came to his senses, opened his mouth and began to kiss him back. His heart pounded as they ate at each other in a breath-stealing, pulse-racing, greedy binge that he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until now. He slammed Tyler against the wall and plastered himself against him. They were welded from their mouths to their feet and they rutted and writhed, rubbing themselves together as if they were trying to dissolve their clothes or catch fire. Probably both.
A loud cough from the other side of the open door made them spring apart.
”Excuse me, sir. Will that be all for tonight?” Wilson had the sense not to come into the room.
”Yes, thank you,” Haris mumbled.
”Then I wish you both good night. If you should require my a.s.sistance don't hesitate to call. Despite battling with a severe headache for most of the day, which I suspect might be the beginnings of a brain tumor, I shall try my utmost to stay alert and of course I shall be only too delighted to rise from my bed to do whatever bidding you might require, at any time of the night, no matter how trivial the request might seem. It's my pleasure to serve in even the most humble of ways.”
”Good night, Wilson.” Haris smiled at the wide-eyed look on Tyler's face.
”Might I be so bold as to enquire about the breakfast requirements of your guest, sir?”
”He doesn't like liver.”
”Unless I'm mistaken and my memory is not what it was, again maybe the fault of the possible brain tumor, you don't like liver either, sir. Nor do you like-”
”Good night, Wilson.” Haris didn't want him reciting a list of his food preferences, not when he had only one particular dish in mind.
”Good night, sir.”
Haris listened to Wilson walk away and at the same time, he watched Tyler staring at him. Tyler flinched as a door slammed shut. d.a.m.n, he's jumpy.
”So...you like the piano?” Haris asked.
Tyler exhaled. ”Are you insane? It's fantastic. Oh G.o.d, buying me a piano? You are insane.”
”Want to give me a lesson?”
”What about his headache?” He nodded toward the door.
”The resident hypochondriac won't be in bed for another hour. He watches Trueblood on Friday night. It'd take the house exploding to stop him missing that.”
Tyler laughed. ”Come on then.”
He slid onto the stool and Haris sat next to him. Their thighs met and a flash of heat whipped down his spine.
”Is there enough light?” Haris asked. Only a lamp illuminated the room.
”Yeah, we can play in the dark. Know which key is middle C?”
Haris ran his gaze over the keyboard. ”There isn't one in the middle. There are two.”
Tyler pressed a key. ”That's middle C. Two notes to the left and you have A and B.” He played them. ”A, B, then you follow the alphabet up, C, D, E, F, G and start again at A. So play any B.”
Haris put his finger on a white key at the end of a run of three blacks.
”Yep. You got it.”
”What are the black notes?”
”Sharps and flats. Don't worry about those. Put your thumb on middle C and play up one finger after the other to G and then go down again. Smoothly as you can.”
Once Haris had done it twice, Tyler played an accompaniment.