Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
And I wasn’t the only one either since his dad was out here being sneaky and quiet to listen too.
Mr. Rhodes glanced at my arm about a split second before looking away just as quickly. He crouched down and took a seat on the top step again, stretching his long legs out and planting his feet on the stair below. Done with our conversation, I guess. Okay.
I stayed where I was and strained to hear Amos’s sweet voice croon about a woman he loved who wouldn’t return his calls.
I remembered a man I’d loved once singing about something very similar. But I knew all of those words. Because I’d written them.
That record alone had sold over a million copies. It was what many considered his breakout hit. A song I’d originally penned when I was sixteen and wanted my mom to call me back.
Half of his success had been his own. He had a face women loved… that he’d had absolutely nothing to do with since he hadn’t gotten to choose it. He’d made sure to keep his body fit to keep up his “sex appeal” for fans—I’d almost gagged when his mom had used those words. He’d taught himself how to play guitar, sure, but his mom had been the one to egg him into continuing to take lessons. But he’d been a natural performer. His voice a hoarse, gritty thing that he’d also been genetically blessed with.
But as I’d learned over the last two years, you could have a great voice, but if your music wasn’t good or catchy, that didn’t mean you would sell records.
He had and he hadn’t used me. I’d given him everything freely.
Amos’s voice rose just a little, his vibrato ringing through the air, and I shook my head as more goose bumps came up on my skin.
Turning my head just a little, I found Mr. Rhodes staring straight ahead, his jaw an absolute perfect line as he listened intently, a faint smile of pure pleasure lingering over his pink mouth.
His eyes happened to move and catch mine. “Wow,” I mouthed.
And this gruff, strict man kept that tiny smile on his face and said, “Wow,” back.
“Do you sing?” I asked before I could stop myself and remember he didn’t really want to talk to me.
“Not like that,” he actually answered, surprising me. “He gets it from his mom’s side.”
Another hint about his mom. I wanted to know. I wanted to know so bad.
But I wasn’t going to ask.
Then he spoke again and surprised me even more. “It’s the only time he comes out of his shell, and only around some people. It makes him happy.”
That was the longest sentence he’d ever shared with me, I was pretty sure, but I figured there was nothing a man could be prouder of than having a talented son.
Neither one of us said a word as the strums of the guitar changed and Amos’s voice disappeared as he played and we both kept on listening. It was between him noodling around, messing up and trying again, that I said, “If either of you ever need anything, let me know, okay? I’ll let you listen in peace now. I don’t want him to catch me and get upset.”
Mr. Rhodes glanced at me and nodded, not agreeing but not telling me to go to hell either. I picked my way back across the driveway to a familiar tune that I knew for a fact Nori had produced.
But all I could think about was that I hoped Mr. Rhodes took me up on my offer someday.
And that was probably the reason why I got caught.
Why Amos called out, “Aurora?”
And why I froze.
Busted again? “Hi, Amos,” I called out, cursing myself for getting sloppy.
There was a pause then, “What are you doing?”
Did he have to sound so suspicious? And did I have to be such a bad liar? I knew what my best bet was: buttering him up. “Listening to the voice of an angel?”
My whole body tensed up in the silence. I was pretty sure I heard him set his guitar down and start walking over. Sure enough, his head peeked out from around the corner of the building.
I lifted my hand and hoped his dad had disappeared. “Hi.”
The kid looked at me and froze too. “What happened to your face?”
I kept forgetting I was scaring people. “Nothing bad, no one hurt me. I’m fine, and thank you for worrying.”
The same color eyes as his dad’s bounced around my face, and I wasn’t sure he heard me.
“I’m okay,” I tried to assure him. “Promise.”
That was good enough for him because his expression finally turned a little anxious. “Did it… bother you?”
I scrunched up my face and then winced. “Are you kidding me? No way.”
His dad was right, he didn’t believe it. I could feel his soul rolling its spiritual eyes.