When The Music Ends | Next Chapter

Jul 22

Jul 22 When The Music Ends

Next Chapter

Romance

Buy now

Read reviews in Goodreads

Book excerpt

Chapter 1

October 2001

“Hello?” Sean Murphy called as he entered the century-old white colonial house in which he had grown up. The age-darkened door slammed shut behind him in a gust of chilly October wind. He stepped into the silent living room. Home looks the same as always; rose-printed sofa, two maroon armchairs, and an antique wooden rocker flanking the brick and brass fireplace. It's too quiet, though. Mom and Dad must be out, he thought. I bet Mom left something delicious in the fridge. That will keep me busy until dinner.

A muffled greeting interrupted his refrigerator piracy scheme. “Hi, Sean, can you come here, please?”

Smiling to himself, he climbed the stairs to Sheridan's bedroom and opened the door, unsurprised to discover his seventeen-year-old sister wasn't alone. Sheridan's best friend Erin James sprawled with her on the pink and lace canopy bed. It's interesting to see them together, Sean reflected. They couldn't be more opposite. Sheridan, tall and curvy, resembled sunshine brought to life. She had fair but slightly golden skin, masses of blond curls, and a cheerful demeanor. Small and pale, with dark hair and eyes, Erin's serious face reflected her intense personality.

Sheridan jumped from the bed and ran to her brother.

“Hey, sis, what did you need?” Sean asked as he received his sister's exuberant hug. From the corner of his eye, he saw Erin sit up, her cheeks flaming at the sight of him.

“Your timing is perfect, Sean,” Sheridan gushed. “I need you to take Erin to the homecoming dance.”

“Huh?” Sean turned from his sister to Erin and saw her fair cheeks had darkened even further.

“Yeah,” Sheridan blurted, a flood of words seeming to erupt from her all at once. “This stupid guy has been messing with her, making her think he would take her, but he really just wanted her to help him study. Today we found out that he was going to the dance with Lindsey Jones, that tramp. We know what he wants, and no loss there, but now Erin doesn't have a date and the dance is tomorrow. Would you take her?”

“Danny, please,” Erin said, softly interjecting into the rapid gush, “I don't need this. I don't care about homecoming and you know I can't dance. I'll just stay home and practice for that audition.”

“No way, you have to go,” Sheridan insisted. “I won't have a bit of fun without you. I'm so sick of Jake. I may just ditch him.”

The mention of his sister's boyfriend aroused Sean's protective instincts. That punk rubs me the wrong way every time I see him. “It's about time you ditched that dickhead,” he commented, making both girls giggle. “He's nowhere near good enough for you, Danny. Why don't you forget about him and you and Erin go together? That would be better, wouldn't it?”

“Come on, Sean.” Sheridan waved her brother's words away with a careless gesture. “It's not nice to dump someone just before a dance, especially since he's nominated for homecoming king. Oh, don't worry; I'll break up with him. I just think it would be politer to do it after, and after the SATs next week too, so he's not distracted, but that still leaves Erin. She can't come with the two of us. It's too pathetic. Erin deserves better than to be the third wheel. But think, Sean, if she comes with a man instead of one of those little boys.” She waved at him again, this time indicating his work-hardened muscles, currently straining the sleeves of a red plaid shirt and a pair of ratty blue jeans.

Sean heaved a heavy breath and took a moment to consider. A date… with Erin? His eyes traced the delicate lines of her face. Wide brown eyes that always seemed tinged with sorrow. Long yet elegant nose. Pale rosebud lips. High cheekbones. Her collarbones peeped from the scooped neckline of a navy long-sleeved tee shirt that hugged her slender frame. There's nothing wrong with her looks, certainly. She's pretty, and as she's been Sheridan's friend since kindergarten, I know her well. I know she's nice. In fact, if I hadn't known her all her life, I might just ask someone like her out. He stared at the familiar face for long moments, watching the heat in her cheeks fade, and the pale lip slip between teeth that had only recently lost their braces. He shook his head. Someone like her, but not her. “Yeah, I know what will happen. I'll be arrested. Sheridan, I'm twenty-three. What do I care about homecoming?” he demanded, raising one eyebrow at his sister.

“Probably nothing,” she admitted, “but do you care about Erin?”

“Of course,” Sean replied. She's practically a member of the family. How could I not care? Again, he considered the proposition, considered how Erin must feel. Already shy and not inclined to date, for her to be toyed with and then dropped – even by a loser – must have played hell with her self-confidence. But imagine what a coup if she did show up with someone like… me. Someone like me, but not me, right? But if not him, there was no one. He turned his attention to Erin, whose face lit up like a Fourth of July firework the moment their eyes met. She likes the idea, even if she's too shy to admit it. “You know what, Erin, come here a minute. I think we should talk about this without Danny for a while.”

“Okay.” She rose from the bed and stepped out into the hallway with him, close to his side, but not letting her body brush against his. He led her into the room that used to be his, still decorated with all his old high school memorabilia. Sean couldn't help grinning. My sentimental mother. She'll never turn this into a storage room or rent it out to college students.

Erin moved to stand near him, leaning against the thick footboard, biting one short fingernail. “I hope you know,” she said earnestly, “that I didn't ask her to do that.”

“Of course not,” he replied, patting her shoulder. If she blushes any harder, her face will burst into flame. “I can smell a Sheridan Murphy plot a mile away. She's my sister, don't forget. However, she is right about one thing. You do need a date; that is, if you really want to go. Tell the truth, Erin. Do you really want to stay home and practice?”

“No, I would like to go,” she whispered as if admitting a shameful secret. “I really can't dance, though.”

“Come on,” he urged, “you're a musician. I can't believe you have no rhythm.”

Her dark eyes met his at last, her discomfort pinching the corners. “It's not a question of rhythm but of self-confidence. I always feel silly dancing in front of a room full of people.”

“How about if you have someone confident leading the way, kind of like a director?” he offered, pantomiming an invitation with one hand extended.

“That might help.” She looked down and as if that were not enough, swept her long, dark lashes over her eyes.

I hope I'm doing the right thing. Her crush on me is kind of sweet… in an embarrassing sort of way. She is still in high school, after all. Sean didn't know what to say next. Her shyness overpowered his attempts at conversation. To the point, Murphy. “Okay then, let's do it. At least we can show that douchebag what he's missing.”

“Are you sure? Don't you have plans?” Her eyes pleaded with him.

Oh boy. “Nah. Just boring stuff, you know, like laundry. So, Erin, will you let me take you to homecoming?”

She gave him an intense look, her dark eyes glowing with eagerness as she said, “Yes,” in a voice so tiny he almost couldn't hear her. He gave her a brotherly hug around the shoulders. She squeaked and fled the room.

Well, one thing I didn't expect was to go to a high school dance. Maybe it will be fun. Then he recalled his own high school dances; awkward, loud and smelling faintly of B.O. Maybe not, but at least I'll have done a good deed and made my sister and her friend happy.

Chapter 2

The following night, Sean arrived at Erin's house dressed in a fitted green button up shirt and some dark slacks, trying to appear as mature as possible.

He drove into her prestigious neighborhood near The University of the Lakes, their local institute of higher learning. Elegant, narrow homes, over a century in age, crowded cheek by jowl along the street, the view of their bright colors and gingerbread trim obscured by oak and maple trees, formally attired in their colorful autumn leaves. As he scanned the house numbers, he realized he knew the area, had renovated at least two of the nearby structures. “2107,” he muttered, trying to make out the numbers in the semi-darkness. “2107 Water Street.” He passed 2103 and knew he must be nearly there. Two houses down, he frowned at the smallest one on the block. Short and squat, it looked like a troll crouching between the two and three-story giants all around it. Huh. Ritzy area. If this is the best an investment banker and a commercial artist can afford, yikes. He shook his head. The miniature two-bedroom home had been painted tan with green shutters framing a stained-glass window. Sean parked his Mustang along the curb, kicked his way along the leaf-strewn sidewalk, rang the doorbell and waited.

I wonder what she's going to be wearing. Hopefully not anything like what she had on at her last birthday. Sean grimaced at the memory of oversized black, orange, pink and silver bows sewn all over a dress made of a man's sweatshirt, paired with fishnet purple tights – one of her mother’s ‘artistic’ creations. This might not have been such a good idea.

The door opened to reveal his date clad in a classy and touchably soft black velour knee-length dress. It contrasted with her skin and made her dark hair – done up in an elegant twist – seem to glow. Sheridan must have helped with the subtle application of makeup. Erin looked at least five years older, not to mention more confident, than he had seen her before, meeting his gaze without blushing and smiling sweetly. The sorrow in her wide brown eyes tugged at his protective instincts and he realized he did care about her. I told Danny I did, but it was a sort of intellectual caring. For the first time, Erin, the person, seemed real and alive in front of him.

Awareness stole his breath. “Hi,” he said at last. Then he held out a corsage consisting of a single red rosebud. She stepped forward and he carefully pinned it to her dress, breathing in a waft of lilac perfume. The contrast of the vivid scarlet with the shimmering black drew his eyes to the slender curves of her figure. She's so thin. I wonder if she forgets to eat. I've heard artists do that sometimes.

He lifted his eyes to hers, taking in the satisfied glow of approval. “Hi, Sean. Let's go.”

“Do you need me to come in and say hello to your folks or anything?” he asked, peering over her shoulder into the darkened living room.

“No, my parents aren't here.” She stepped out and closed the door behind her, dropping her key into a tiny silver bag hanging from her wrist.

“Where are they?” He placed his hand on the small of her back and moved her forward. The warmth of her skin radiated through the fabric of the dress, making his fingers tingle.

“I'll tell you in the car,” she said with a hint of tension in her voice.

“Okay.”

They arrived at the passenger side of the Mustang and Sean opened the door for Erin. This might not exactly be the date she wanted, but every girl deserves to feel like a princess once in a while, and I bet Erin doesn't get much of that. Closing the door, he circled the car and slid into the driver's seat, firing the ignition before saying, “Okay, what's up?”

“My parents are splitting up,” she said flatly.

Sean winced. No wonder she seems so strained. “That's too bad. Why?”

“My dad's always away at work, you know?” He nodded. “Well, Mom met someone. She's spending the weekend with him and Dad's gone for work again, so I'm on my own.”

He reached across the console and patted her hand. “That sucks. Sorry.”

“It's okay. It's not like they actually liked each other or anything.”

Have I ever heard such a bleak tone from Erin? He hadn't, he realized, because she'd never let him see her real feelings. Or maybe I just never bothered to look. He rested his hand on top of hers. “Still. I don't care about them, but I'm sorry for you.”

“Don't pity me, Sean,” she pleaded. “The one thing I can't stand is for you to see me as pathetic.”

Far from it. “You're not pathetic, Erin,” he reassured her. “Let's say I'm sorry about your situation, okay?”

“Okay, thanks.” She fell silent for a moment, considering what to say next and nibbling her knuckle. At last, she added, “I'm so glad finally to be a senior. If I can just get through this year, I'll be an adult. I'll go off to college, and I won't be at the mercy of their choices anymore.”

“Where are you going?” he asked, wanting to keep the conversation positive. “Sheridan mentioned a conservatory in Texas.”

“I'm not sure,” she replied. “I have an appointment with their recruiter in two weeks to play an audition, but I'm also considering going to State with Sheridan. That would be nice too.”

“Can you be a performance major at a state university?” he asked. Don't musicians have to go to Julliard or something like that?

He shifted his eyes her direction in time to see her dip her chin. “Sure. It wouldn't be as prestigious, but I would save a ton of money, and I would likely get better scholarships too. With everything that's been happening, I'm probably going to need them. Didn't you go to State, Sean, to get your business degree, before you started working with your dad's construction company? Isn't that why he made you assistant foreman, because you learned so much about handling marketing, accounting, and all those things?”

“Yeah, I did,” he admitted, surprised she knew so much detail. She and Danny must talk about me a lot. He felt his own cheeks burning at the realization. “It's a good school. Don't sell yourself short, though. Saving money is fine, but not if you miss out on your dreams. I know you want to play your oboe professionally. You're good enough to do it, so go for it, okay?”

Another quick glance revealed a warm glow around her cheeks, not exactly a blush, but a hint of her pleasure at his compliment. “Good advice. Thanks.”

* * *

They drove along in silence. Erin stared out the window at the masses of orange, gold, and vermillion trees, interspersed with the green of pine and spruce. A thrill of nervous excitement threatened to turn her belly into a knot. I didn't really expect to go to the dance at all. Now I'm going with my crush. Amazing. Forget David Landry. He can score with Lindsey. I now have, without a doubt, the sexiest date of all.

A motorcycle roared by, its growl interrupting her train of thought. Noisy monster. Why do people enjoy such a rackety thing? Sean braked abruptly as the bike swerved into their lane. His movement released a waft of spicy cologne that teased her awareness. What would it feel like to be surrounded by those muscular arms, breathing in his scent as he tumbles you onto the mattress? Her breathing slowed and deepened as she imagined the unknown sensation. Then, with a blink, she forced herself to refocus on reality. Don't fool yourself. He's not here because he likes you. Though she knew it was a favor, she appreciated it. Escorting his sister's shy and uninteresting friend to a dance he doesn't want to go to. Sean is the definition of a true gentleman.