Something There

Chapter Fifty-Two

Songs for this chapter:
• Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato

Chapter Fifty-Two:

Bryce takes my hand, tugging me into the room.

He flicks a switch in the wall and the overhead lights come to life, revealing a fairly large room that looks completely dedicated to music.

Four guitars are hanging off of the back wall, a keyboard and bench beside them. A small sectional sofa is in one corner of the room, but the the centre point of the room is the huge desk with recording equipment set up on top of it; a desktop computer, multiple different types of microphones, and other things that I don't quite know the purpose of.

"This is the coolest thing ever," I tell him, and he grins at me, walking over to pick up one of the acoustic guitars off of its wall stand.

He then heads over to take a seat down on the couch, patting the stop beside him.

I go to sit down and he smiles at me before looking back down at the instrument.

He presses a button to turn on the tuner that's built into the wood, and he begins to use the pegs to tune up the guitar.

As he's doing this, I ask him, "How did you even find this room in the first place?"

He strums down all of the guitar's strings with his thumb before muting the sound with his palm, turning to look at me.

"I leaned against the wall one day when I was unpacking my shit after moving, and the door just opened. I have no idea why it's here, but I decided I might as well put it to good use. I had all of this in my room in Florida but I'm glad I found a more private space here," he answers me, and I nod.

"What, was it weird for you to bring girls home and have them see all of this?" I ask him, and though I intended for it to come off as a joke, it seems to strike a nerve for him and I instantly regret it.

When his eyes meet mine, something shifts a little, but I can't tell what he's thinking as his eyes move down to stare at my lips.

He then looks down to my décolletage, and I notice him frowning slightly when he sees that I'm not wearing my necklace.

"I never brought girls into my room. I always just used one of the spare rooms because I don't like people invading my personal space. They only people that've been in here are you and my dad, you know," he tells me, and I'm mad at myself for the way my heart is racing right now.

He's so good at making me feel special.

All his words just come across in a way that makes me feel like I'm about to melt into a puddle.

"Have you ever played guitar before?" he asks me, and I know that he's trying to revert to an easier topic.

I shake my head at him, and he seems to get an idea because his eyes widen a little bit.

He starts to pick out a pattern using his right hand, playing chords with his other hand.

The melody is beautiful and his face looks so peaceful as he plays that I don't want to interrupt; I just want to sit here and watch him for hours on end.

"There's no way that I could ever play like that," I comment, trying to sneak a compliment in there in the process.

He suddenly stops playing to tilt his head to the side and look at me, and I feel myself growing a little shy.

He sets the instrument down beside on his other side, before asking, "Want me to teach you some things?"

I think for a moment, wondering if he intended the double meaning of his words.