It sucked to be attracted to a man who held no reciprocating interest.

“Play it again,” he said. “I won’t interrupt this time, I promise.”

“You didn’t interrupt. I always freeze at that exact spot. I’m afraid I’ll never get past it.”

“So instead of stopping, just play something—any crap that comes out—until the right notes finally find you.”

She laughed. “I don’t know how to play crap.”

“Lucky you,” he said, his white smile flashing in his strong, handsome face. She wanted to prop her chin up on her hand and stare at him dreamily. She needed to get a grip.

“Ninety percent of my work is crap,” he continued. “Another nine percent is mediocre, and then there are those rare gems that are actually useable.”

“It’s not that I can’t play crap. I’m just afraid to.” She diverted her gaze to the keyboard. “I’m sort of a perfectionist.” And it wasn’t a trait she’d been born with. Her mother had ensured she’d paid for every mistake until the thought of making one crippled her. “What you played wasn’t bad,” she said.

“Liar,” he said, still grinning, “but it was a little better than—”

Blam! His hands slammed on the keyboard as hers had so many times over the past week.

“Just a little better than—” She hit the keys with her fist. Blam!

“Shit, even your”—Blam!—“sounds better than mine does.”

“Maybe you should just give up on music writing.”

“Ouch! My ego isn’t made of steel, you know?”

“I’m just teasing.” Couldn’t he tell? If not, she was sorry to have damaged his pride. “Let’s try it again. Maybe something that comes out of you will complement something inside of me.”

He groaned. “Don’t say things like that. I’ve been abstinent so long, I’m likely to take it the wrong way.”

Why would he ever so selfishly resort to abstinence? Dawn wondered if he’d like to break that dry spell, because she had her own abstinence thing going on, not that she’d planned it that way, and maybe they could end the drought together. Of course, for a gorgeous, virile man like Kellen, perhaps a week was a long stint of abstinence.

“Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. Please, continue.”

But he had brought it up, so she had to ask. “Why have you been abstinent? Surely you have hundreds of women standing in line to get you into bed.” Having just met him, she might be at the end of the line, but she was definitely in it.

“But not the one who matters.”

She caught the anguish in his expression before he turned his face away and began to play a completely disjointed string of notes.

She covered his hand with hers to stop his playing.

“Are you being intentionally mysterious? Or does driving me insane with curiosity come naturally to you?”

“It comes naturally.”

They shared a laugh, and Kellen reached for one of her score sheets. He propped it on the stand above the fall board. Reading the notes scattered along the staff, he played them slowly, but correctly. She fought the urge to play over him, to get the tempo up to where it belonged. She didn’t know why, but it bothered her beyond reason when anyone took liberties with her music and didn’t play it exactly as she envisioned it.

When the song shifted to a lower register, his arm brushed hers and his fingers went still.

She glanced at him to find him sitting with his eyes closed.

“I should go,” he said.

“Why? I don’t want you to go.”

“Because I’m incredibly attracted to you, and I don’t think I’m quite ready to act on it.”

Well, in that case, there was no way she was letting him leave.

He wasn't sure why Dawn had him in knots. She hadn't been overly flirtatious. She looked nothing like Sara. Dawn had gorgeous, deep red hair, hazel eyes flecked with green, and adorable freckles on her long, straight nose. Her lips were thinner than Sara's had been. She was tall, long limbed and fine boned. She didn't smell like Sara or sound like her or say things that reminded him of phrases Sara used to say. Dawn was nothing like Sara. Kellen couldn't remember the last time he'd looked at any woman and not been reminded of Sara at all. He couldn’t remember, because it had never happened. He didn't know if he should feel relieved or guilty or sad. What he mostly felt was aroused.

"You're attracted to me?" Dawn asked, her expressive hazel eyes wide. "Because you're doing a good job of hiding it. Why do you draw away when I touch you? You make me feel like I have cooties."

"I don't want to be attracted to you."

"Are you married? Engaged?"

"I wish I were." He might as well just tell her what she was up against. "Are you attracted to me too?" He thought she was, but before he started saying things to scare her away and remind himself of the emptiness inside, he needed to make sure the revelation was worth the pain.

"Yeah, I am definitely attracted to you," she said. "I can't imagine there's a woman on the planet who wouldn't be."

He rolled his eyes. He didn't need her flattery. He just needed her to shoot straight with him.

"The woman I planned to marry died, so technically I'm not attached. But spiritually and emotionally I'm in a relationship that doesn't exist."

She stared at him, her eyes searching his until he had to look away. "Well, that sucks," she said. "Kind of hard for me to compete with someone who can do no wrong."

Not the empathy and sympathy to which he was accustomed. Dawn’s eyes were dry and she wasn't doing that annoying pat his hand and avoid his gaze thing that so many people did when he told them about Sara.

"Okay,” she said, turning back to her keyboard. “I'm going to start the song again and when I get to my stuck spot, I’d like you to play whatever occurs to you."

That was it? She wasn't going to hound him with questions and overwhelm him with so many memories of Sara that he was forced to retreat inside himself again? She wasn’t going to give him a reason to push her away? He didn’t know how to respond.

She started playing her unfinished composition and as before, the collection of notes lifted his spirit, made him yearn for the song to never end. With each successive note he felt happier, more alive, more connected to something than he had in years. When Dawn reached her final note, Kellen prepared to take over, but three additional notes poured from her fingers. She straightened on the bench beside him and played the three notes again. And again. Then she sang them in the most beautiful falsetto he had ever heard and played them yet again.

She released a long breath, the tension draining from her body. "Three is better than none."

"And better than crap."

She beamed and gave him a hasty hug. "I think my muse is intimidated by your crap, Kellen."

He fought the urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her close. He still wasn't sure how he felt about his attraction to her. It felt different than when he got sexually excited when a woman made unwanted advances toward him. Yeah, his cock got hard when women came on to him, but he felt so guilty about his body's reaction that he couldn’t bring himself to give in to his sexual needs.

Sitting next to Dawn, he felt stirrings of lust, but the place she touched him was deeper than his baser needs. She touched him where his music resided. Sara had never touched that part of him. When they'd been together, he'd almost given up music. Sole Regret’s first album hadn’t been the success they’d hoped. With Sara in college and Kellen holding down odd jobs to pay the bills, they’d been hopelessly broke. Once Sara’s medical bills started to pile up, it seemed the only thing to do was leave the band and find a decent job. He’d wanted to provide for her. Only Owen’s insistence that Kellen stay had kept him from giving up the band entirely. Owen had believed in Sole Regret when Kellen had completely lost hope on their dream. Owen ever the optimist. Owen who always put other’s needs before his own. Owen onboard for anything at any time. Owen...