Free A Change of Plans by Donna K. Weaver Page B

The Love Boat .”
    “It sounds stupid when you put it like that. But I don’t think I deserve your sarcasm.”
    I stared at her, remembering all she had done for me. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But admit it. You thought that could happen, didn’t you?”
    “It still could.” Her eyes pleaded with me to make it so.
    “As if he’d even talk to me after ...” I squeezed my lips shut. She was sucking me into it. “Stop it, Elle. Please.”
    She studied me before nodding. “We’re late for breakfast.”
    By the time we got there, only two empty chairs remained at the large table where the group sat. One by Jori and one by Braedon. I lengthened my stride and passed Elle to take the seat by Jori, across the table from Braedon.
    “Good morning, everyone.” With hands like ice, I placed a napkin in my lap.
    Maria picked up her juice glass. “Nice to see you’re feeling better. That must have been quite the bug you caught. I’m glad no one else got it.”
    “Me too,” I mumbled, sneaking a quick look at Braedon before lifting my menu. He watched me, his expression dark, his brows knit. I felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach across the table and wipe the frown from his face. Instead, I asked Jori. “What are you having?”
    He leaned inside my menu and whispered, “Have you talked to him?”
    “Stay out of it,” I hissed.
    “You’re an idiot.” Jori sat up, his mouth tight. His volume increased. “You should eat something easy on your stomach. You wouldn’t want to get any heart burn—ow!” He leaned down to rub his shin and glared at Elle.
    Jimmy nudged my arm. “Hey, I don’t know if Ellementioned it, but the cruise director’s letting us have the talent show, and our first rehearsal is this afternoon. I really need you to play the keyboard with Braedon.”
    My heart sank. Why did this need to be any harder? “I’m not interested in performing.”
    “But Braedon wrote you a special part.”
    Curious, I looked at Braedon.
    He shrugged. “You volunteered me to play the piano for him, remember?” He glanced at Jimmy, who stared at me, his hands together as if in prayer, his eyes beseeching.
    I asked Braedon, “When did you write music for me?”
    He didn’t even blink. “I’ve had a lot of free evenings lately.”
    My face burned. I had hurt him ... or embarrassed him. Yet he had composed music for me? I took a deep breath and turned to Elle. “What are you doing to help Jimmy?”
    “Costumes, of course.” She gave me a ‘you can’t be that selfish’ look.
    “You’ll help Jimmy, won’t you?” Maria asked.
    All eyes rested on me.
    “Please,” Jimmy begged.
    He had told me this trip was to be his last hurrah before he bowed to his parents’ plans. The talent show was his one chance to perform power metal before an audience. I considered first Jimmy and then Elle, who watched me expectantly. I owed Elle for worrying her during the Hawaii days.
    Sighing, I rubbed my temple. I was an adult. I knew how to be pleasant to people I didn’t like. Or liked too much. “I’ll take a look at the music.”
    Jimmy whooped and jumped from his seat to hug me, and Elle beamed. I didn’t look at Braedon, who left to get the sheets from his cabin.
    When he came back, he slid some handwritten music across the table. I picked it up and read through the piece, surprised at what he had written. It was perfect for me. The music was a descant to one of Jimmy’s favorite songs, “Shining Star” by Kinslayer. As I played the notes in my mind, I felt a chill at its beauty. My hands itched to play it on the keyboard.
    At the end of the meal, I held back while the others rose. Braedon also remained in his chair.
    I clutched my cold hands on the table before me, my heart pounding as I waited for us to be alone. “I ... I’m sorry.”
    Braedon leaned forward, stretching his hands across the table toward me. I pulled mine into my lap and sat back. He stopped but left his hands there, his eyes