What the Librarian Did by Karina Bliss Read Free Book Online

from home for the first time. That makes you vulnerable—”
    “Stop right there,” Mark interrupted. “Let me get this straight. I hardly know you and you’re giving me a lecture?” Shaking his head, he stood up, sweeping his books into his bag. “Who the hell do you think you are—my mother?”
     
    “S HE’S RIGHT ,” said Devin when Mark repeated the conversation. “I’m not the kind of person you should be spending time with.”
    They stood on the deck of the Waiheke ferry watching the whitecaps as the boat surged against a brisk northerly toward the island that lay forty minutes off the mainland.
    Their fellow passengers were a mix of commuters holding briefcases, tourists and the alternative lifestylers who’d once had the place to themselves. Now the island’s slopes were dotted with homes of the wealthy. Yet there was still a lull, a lazy charm about the place. Nearby a businessman loosened his tie, while two kids raced across the deck to the bow to point out the island to their mother.
    Cool for the first time that day, Devin breathed in the salty air and felt the tension he always carried ease a little.
    “You don’t sound that bothered about it,” Mark replied.Glancing sideways, Devin saw the kid’s hurt expression. Oh, great . He still didn’t quite know how Mark had talked him into inviting him over; it had something to do with Devin feeling he owed him.
    A week and a half into university life his brain felt close to exploding under the weight of new information, and Mark had helped him out more than once, explaining concepts. The kid was bright, no doubt about it.
    And so puppy dog enthusiastic about music. Devin remembered that kind of devotion; he still mourned its loss. Maybe that was really what this was about. He was warming himself at the fire of the kid’s idealism. “Listen, Mark. Don’t expect too much of me. You’ll only be disappointed.”
    “I don’t…I mean, it’s not like…Look, I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to.”
    Devin laughed. “What are you going to do, jump in and swim back?”
     
    M ARK WAS DISAPPOINTED at his first sight of Devin’s house. From watching reality TV shows on rock stars he expected some sort of mansion with white pillars, wrought-iron gates with a security keypad, a six-car garage and an entourage…definitely an entourage.
    Especially since they rode from the ferry terminal to Devin’s property on a customized Harley-Davidson.
    But albeit secluded—and white plaster—the place was pretty simple, a long, low-lying building with no distinctive features that Mark could see. Inside was better. Mostly white with red feature walls and white leather furniture. Art covered every wall, from big canvasses of bold swirls of color to old movie posters and some hot nudes. He recognized an Andy Warhol and wondered if it was an original.
    The house perched on a cliff with dramatic glass walls toward the sea. Mark stood at the window and gazed out across the expanse of water and beyond to the far horizon. Below, several seagulls hovered in the updraft. “Wow.”
    Musical instruments were scattered around the enormous open plan lounge—an antique snare drum, various types of guitars. A microphone in the corner and he spotted speakers so small they had to be state of the art. Memorabilia, but no Grammys or awards. Mark was disappointed.
    Then his eyes fell on a bass guitar. “Is that the Fender Precision?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Can I touch it?”
    Devin smiled. “You can play it.”
    “No shit!” Reverently, Mark picked up the instrument, running his hands over the strings. One of rock’s most distinctive riffs had been created on this very bass. He became aware of Devin watching, and froze, embarrassed to show himself up as a meager talent.
    “You want a drink?” asked Devin. “Coke, Sprite, juice?”
    “A Sprite would be good.”
    When Devin had disappeared down the hall, Mark turned on the amplifier and played the Rage anthem right