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"Sure."

2

WARRICK

Icouldn't believe that this gorgeous girl was even speaking to me. Her soft eyes were the blue of faded denim. Honey-blonde hair swung around her shoulders in a slight wave. Her black jeans hugged her lush hips perfectly, and her pretty floral top was both playful and sexy.

I probably shouldn't think of her as sexy, but there was no way to stop it. My heart was pounding with lust as I drank in every detail of her beauty.

I couldn't believe that she was Frank's daughter. I knew that he'd gotten married very early, and it sounded like Gloria was already pregnant at the time.

But I didn't care that Brooke was a bit young. Those eyes held such a glow of curiosity, warmth and purity. Until this moment, I'd never felt drawn to a person.

People were difficult, and I always felt they misread me.

I adjusted my shoulder bag, then held out my arm to Brooke. She took it with another sweet smile, then I led her to the edge of the circle of drummers setting up.

I pulled out a thin blanket that I'd packed just in case the grass was damp. It wasn’t, but I didn't like the thought of her sitting on the ground. I offered her the blanket, and she slid over to the edge, making room for me to join her.

One of the hippie guys with orange streaks in his hair gave a short speech about how this was soul-directed drumming, and everyone should play whatever they felt.

Digging in my bag again, I pulled out four silver spheres, handing two of them to Brooke.

"What are these?"

They rattled as I dropped them into her palms, then she gave each one a test shake. One had a lower pitch than the other.

"I didn't have time to learn how to make drums," I said. "But shakers seemed pretty easy."

Brooke gave me a strange look. "You just made these?"

"Yeah. In my lab. Figuring out what to put inside them took the longest."

Her eyes closed as she softly shook one of them next to her left ear. "Metal screws?"

Wow. Impressive. "Yes."

She did the same with the other beside her right ear. "It's like…sand, but heavier."

"Close. Metal filings." Reaching out with the two shakers in my hands, I shook one beside her ear, then the other.

"The first is smaller screws."

"Correct."

"The other is something chunkier. But lighter?"

"You're very good," I said. "Aluminum washers."

The drumming was thankfully not too loud, and I drank in every note of Brooke's delightful laugh. We began shaking in time with the drumming, finding different emphases on various beats.

It was interesting, communicating without speaking. Brooke would try a different beat either in sync with or in opposition to the drummer sitting closest to us. I would match her for a while, then take off in a different direction, and she would follow me.

Likely no one else could hear our shakers, but there was still the sensation of being part of a larger circle, a community. This is what I assumed drum circles were actually about, and why I’d wanted to give it a try.

But the only circle that mattered to me now was the energy bubble that seemed to hold Brooke and I together. I felt like I was under a spell.

I'd always focussed completely on my work, often forgetting to eat, drink water, even sleep. Having my attention riveted on those sparkling eyes and gentle laugh made me feel energized.


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