~Chapter 4~
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In the car, Flare admired her handsome escort as he drove. He was wearing an elegant suit in a deep olive color. She suddenly wondered what his closet looked like. He must have so many formal outfits. "What's on the concert program, Will?"
Her question gave him the opportunity to steer his thoughts away from the persistent memory of kissing her. He told himself he wouldn't think about it tonight, which was futile counsel considering that he'd thought about little else since it happened. It was very disconcerting for someone like him who lived in his head, to be possessed by new urges of the body and unfamiliar twisting emotions. He was quite annoyed to be distracted at a time when he needed to prepare for Europe. Still, he grudgingly admitted that he had only himself to blame. Nobody forced him to kiss her or go on a date with her...Well actually, it wasn't a date! No... He was merely furthering her musical education. And he was not...NOT going to kiss her again...
"Will?"
"Uhm, the highlight of the program is the Mendelssohn octet. They're also doing the Brahms clarinet quintet and a Schumann piano trio. All in the Romantic genre."
"I'm looking forward to it."
'I am too' he realized. Being with her was much better than being alone, even if she always kept him guessing.
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They were soon congregated with several other people waiting in the lobby for the doors to open. He took the opportunity to admire his companion. She was being her usual bubbly self, pointing at ornate bits of scrollwork on the stair railings, paintings of cherubs on the ceiling, asking questions about this and that. As much as he was usually impatient with superfluous talk, he indulged her by answering because he liked it when she looked at him.
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He had made sure that their seats were in the section with the best acoustics, of course. Getting to attend a performance of the Mendelssohn octet was a rare treat, provided that it was done well. During the performance his mind did the usual assessment of the musicians' technique, interpretation and execution, but the greater part of his attention was on her. Watching her innocent enjoyment of the music gave him fresh perspective. Yes, music was meant to be enjoyed... And by the end of the 2nd movement of the Mendelssohn he finally admitted to himself that he did want to kiss her again. He didn't know how he would manage it, but the desire was getting stronger by the minute.
Breaking his own rule about not talking during a performance, he found several opportunities to lean over to whisper in her ear about the composer's intention, about how advanced the music was for its time, or that she should listen for the upcoming viola solo...He was just going to do it once, but she smelled like vanilla...and he liked it when his mouth made contact with her hair and skin. He kept glancing at her hands resting in her lap and wishing he had the guts to reach for them. His hormones had his head spinning off on some fantasy of kissing her right then and there in the dark auditorium, but he was able to reign himself in...just barely. Get a grip, Mc Willard. This is a concert, for heaven's sake.
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During intermission they wandered around the lobby and the mezzanine, saying little. Flare was having fun. Even in silence she enjoyed his company. She imagined that even being in his presence was enough to infuse her with musical knowledge. To her he was royalty. His handsome face and majestic bearing merely underscored the exalted nature of musicianship that permeated his being. She thought of him fondly as a friend, but she was truly in awe of him as a musician. Every minute spent with him was precious, especially in these last few weeks when most of his waking time was spent in practice.
