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He scoffed “I’m so out of practice”

“Who cares? Do soe There were clu froer food “A Christ”

“I’ that piano

“So they’ll tell you to stop Coht be easy to play, although I had no idea Henry had all the musical talent in our family—I could do “Chopsticks” The end

Granted, I’d only tried lessons for aI hated it Which I had Henry was like a pig in shit spending hours and hours practicing a talent—either skating or piano I guess Etienne was si I loved enough to want to put in endless hours of work

But one thing I loved a lot was seeing Etienne happy My cheeks flushed hot Not loved Whatever He washim to be happy!

“You okay?” Etienne was frowning at

“Yep I want to hear…” I glanced around “How about ‘Jingle Bells’? That seems easy”

His lip curled with disdain “I guess”

“What?” I laughed “It’s a good song”

“I said I was out of practice, not that I was seven”

I lifted ot”

Our eyes locked, and a strange silence drew out as we stared at each other Why washim to play the piano, not—

Not what?? Nothing! NOTHING

Just before it got really weird, Etienne walked to the piano I followed as my stoleaht He ran his fingers over the keys, not pressing down yet

It reminded me of when he took the ice before a performance and would stroke around the rink a few times, usually hand in hand with Bree Here at the piano, he was alone Should I sit beside him? Was he scared? I didn’t want him to be scared Maybe I shouldn’t have dared him