Jared and Sara escaped the dinner table once the spaghetti plates were cleared and I found my eyes unwillingly following my ex boyfriend's silhouette, with my cousin's hand firmly placed within his grasp.

The moment his chestnut brown hair disappeared around the corner, I returned my gaze to the table, finding Eli watching me intently.

"What?" I snapped, and he only placed his hands up in the air in a surrender motion.

"Dad, I think I'm going to head up to my room. I have some homework to do and I need to do some recording for the band."

"Okay sweetie, just make sure you come down before bed and we can have our dessert."

Ah, my midnight snack routine with dad. Every night that I was home before bed, I'd come downstairs and my dad would be there waiting at the counter with brownies, chocolate cake, ice cream...anything sweet really. It wasn't great for my figure, but it did wonders for our communication. I hadn't been as close to my dad before my mom's death, but after he implemented the midnight snack as our way of checking in, I realized that we were closer than I'd thought.

"Of course," I told him, pushing back the chair to stand up, but in doing so, Eli was making a move to stand as well.

My chair leg caught on his chair leg, mine wobbled, his didn't, and down down down I went, tumbling to the ground...or I would have, if a pair of swoon worthy muscled arms hadn't caught me in my wake.

Fresh goosebumps erupted along my skin, lifting the tiny hairs on my arms and sending chills careening down my spine. His hands were cool along my forearms where he'd caught me, and as I tried to stand up, one found its way to my waist and I choked on a breath of air and started coughing like I'd hit my ribs on something on the way down.

"Are you okay?"

I ignored my dad and put as much distance between myself and Eli without making eye contact, just knowing for a fact that he'd been laughing at me if that smirk he threw my way was any indication.

"I'm fine. I'm going to my room now," I said awkwardly and left the dining room without a single look back.

I. Was. Mortified.

I trudged the stairs to my room, ignoring the queasy feeling my dad's handicap lift gave me every time I laid eyes upon it, and once I was inside my sanctuary of pale mint green walls and minimalist decor with splashes of forest green and golden accent pieces, I darted straight to my plush cloud soft comforter...

...and promptly jumped onto it, landing starfish directly into the center of it. I groaned into it with the vehemence with which I felt my frustration at my life.

I didn't have a terrible life, not by any means.

I was grateful that my father had had such an illustrious career, but the downhill spiral our lives had taken after the drunk driver had taken my mother and my dad's career from our family was the turning point.

My dad never wanted me too far away, and he was more than controlling. He was downright compulsive about me, about wanting and needing to know where I was and that I was safe.

With Jared, he had controlled our date nights, had never allowed us to be alone together, and while it all seemed reasonable considering we were still teenagers, I saw all of my other friends being able to go on unsupervised dates with their significant others, and it was disappointing that I wasn't allowed to do the same.

It was all different with Sara and Jared, since Sara was only my dad's niece and not his daughter, Kara made the rules for her, even though they'd been living with us long enough for my dad to be more of a dad to her than her actual father, who had little say in her life, regardless.

Soon, the sounds of laughter and what could only be described as other sounds (yes, those sounds) floated through the air from the room that shared a wall with mine, Sara's room.

I was no virgin, but damn. I'd say get a room, but they had. It just so happened to be directly adjacent to mine, and I could hear every single thing they were doing.

This was as close a form to torture as having Eli Shepherd sitting directly beside me at dinner, only in a completely different way. This way hurt more.

Standing from my bed, I quickly changed from the cute eggshell blue summer dress I'd been wearing for dinner and into a pair of grey joggers and a tight black tank top that I only wore at home and never in public. It was so tight I couldn't wear a bra with it, and my boobs squished together and crested over the top of the shirt, making it close to indecent for public viewing.

Plugging up my laptop to my microphone and piano, 'Misery Business' by Paramore flowed through my speakers for the entire song, more of a joke than anything, but I secretly hoped Sara caught onto the hidden meaning behind me playing it.

I wanted to show the noisy neighbors beside me how easily it was that sound traveled.

Once that song was finished, however, I threw on my over the ear headphones and connected everything, setting up my microphone arm how I wanted it and adjusting the pop filter over it as well as playing a few chords on the piano to get me in the right mood.

The piano came through the speakers as well as my headphones, and pretty soon I was flitting through multiple different covers of my favorite songs.

'Fuck Feelings' by Olivia O'Brien was one of my favorites to put to piano, considering it was more of an up tempo pop song but it was fun playing around with the ad libs considering my vocal teacher had told me I was a pro at vocal runs.

I certainly didn't feel that way, however.

I'd always been self conscious of my singing, and terrified to show anyone anything I'd been working on, but once I put myself out there one time, things just clicked into place, like it was everything I'd been waiting for and more.

It was Sara's idea for karaoke that night, and, assuming that I wasn't anything special, invited me up to sing with her. She had said that she would walk me through the whole thing and take over if I couldn't reach certain notes.

I knew I had the ability to sing well, but it was the fact that it was in front of others that was daunting. Give me a mic in my room by myself and I could sing until the cows came home, but in front of others? Nope. No way. At least, not until that night.

Once I opened my mouth and the notes poured out, my family's jaws dropped. All except my dad.

He'd either had a strange sixth sense for my hidden talents, or he'd heard me sometime before my mom's death, which had almost made me shut up for good on the singing front.

Witnessing your mother's dead corpse being pulled out of an upside down vehicle at twelve years old while also suffering injuries from that same car wreck could do that to a person.

'Take Me Home' by Jess Glynne was the next recommended song on my app that suggested songs to cover on piano, and the irony wasn't lost on me.

I'd found the song about a year after my mom's death and had subsequently played it over and over on repeat, wishing that instead of choking on my tears while listening I could've sang aloud to the words and sing them to her.

The words flowed out of me, a crooning, haunted melody that paralleled the extent to which I wished she could've only taken me home that night.

Fingers flying across the piano, vocals soaring throughout the room that I suddenly found myself wishing I'd taken my father up on the soundproofing for better acoustics, tears made tracks down my face while the truth of those words hit me square in the chest.

The song had just crested over the edge of the bridge with the gritty high note that I'd alternated between my techniques of chest voice and head voice in order to create an authentic, raw sound in my voice that my vocal teacher would pick apart technically for hours when a creak sounded in the floorboard behind me, the only way I'd been able to hear it because the song was in decrescendo.

Whipping my head around expecting to be confronted with my dad, I was more than surprised to find Eli Shepherd staring at me with a dumbstruck look written across his face, eyes widened and eyebrows up in his hairline, but that didn't make him any less attractive.

Of course he'd chosen that moment to peer into my unguarded soul, while tears were still glistening freshly on my cheeks and heart still racing with the passion of the music.

Slipping off my headphones, I wordlessly crossed the room and stood toe to toe with Eli, looking up at him as I strained my neck to do so.

His entire body filled up my entire doorway, head nearly to the ceiling with his towering height, but it was his vulnerability shining back at me in his eyes that gave me pause.

We shared one heated look, his green irises swirling with danger and a newness that intrigued me and frightened me all at once.

Lush, pink lips parted, his tongue darting out to wet them and I was utterly transfixed. The air between us charged and electric, I only had to reach out and we'd be touching.

Our faces were inches apart, all I would have had to do was reach up on my tip toes, and our lips could have touched. But a small gasp of surprise from someone behind Eli broke me out of whatever trance his face had lulled me into, and I stepped back.

Without a word, I grabbed the door and shut it directly in his face.