Flawed Perfection (Beautifully Flawed, #1)

Chapter Thirty Nine

Under some miracle of God Adam's hand wasn't broken; it was merely strained, but a good one at that. He wouldn't be able to play guitar for at least two weeks.

Two weeks where he couldn't teach.

I had to admit that his aura of worry was wearing on me, and I was starting to be concerned he might not have a job by the end of the day. I somehow managed to keep the sentiment of doubt off my face as I helped him to button-up his shirt and put on his tie and vest.

"Looking spiffy," I said, palm against the faux silk of his tie.

His body rose against my hand, and he kissed my forehead. "You think they're really going to believe you dropped a bowling ball on me?"

I looked at him through my eyelashes. "If they met me they'd believe it."

"They might need to meet you then," Adam said, his voice strained. "Especially when I'm teaching my students piano with one hand."

"You could also teach them vocals," I said as I grabbed my purse, and we headed out the door.

"Vocals? Me? I've never been formally trained," he replied.

"Didn't you teach yourself how to play all those instruments before you were ever formally taught?" I reminded him.

He rubbed his forehead with his good hand replying, "I never learned anything about vocals, though."

"Doesn't mean you're any less amazing," I said as I shifted the GLI into gear. The engine purred, and I couldn't help the smile on my face. It faltered as I remembered I wouldn't get to drive it on the highway.

"If you say so," he sighed.

"Fade Burn was amazing the other night, and did I forget to mention how much I love the name?" I said as I tried to cheer him up.

Adam remained hunched in the seat for the remainder of the short, but too long drive through Boston traffic. When we got to the school Adam gave me a kiss before he wordlessly left the car. I watched him walk into the school with his shoulders bent as if he was walking in to his death. I looked down at my watch. I was supposed to give at least two hours notice.

Oh, well.

I dialed the number.

"Hey, Jesse—it's River...I don't think I'm going to make it in today," I said.

I heard Jesse choke on the other end. "No way, really? You're calling out?"

"I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be. I don't care if you're sick or if you just don't want to get out of bed. You've never called out sick," he said, and I heard him flipping some pages. "Actually, you've never even taken a vacation."

"Yeah," I replied as I picked at the corners of my nail polish. I had no clue what I could do to fix the situation I created.

"So, curiosity killed the cat—what the hell happened that you would?"

"Let's put it this way—I've created the biggest family feud on the face of the planet."

"Mhmm...Adam's fist broken?" Jesse asked.

"Sprained."

"And what does he do?"

"Teaches musical instruments to kids at a private school."

I cringed as I heard his sharp intake of breath that said he knew just as much as I did that we were screwed.

"How are you going to fix this one?" Jesse asked.