“For assaulting me?” I squeaked. “You want me to thank you for assaulting me?”
He winked. “Not assault if you beg me for it.”
“Beg?” I repeated. “I begged to get sexually harassed?” I marched over to him and pushed against his chest. “Tell me, was it the band geek assumption that got you hot or the fact that you know just by looking at me that I have a pink pony hiding in my room.” I rolled my eyes and stepped back. “You were wrong you know.”
“About what?” he whispered, his bright eyes slipping back into darkness.
“The pony.” I looked back and lifted my chin. “It was purple and it’s not in my room back home.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows lifted.
“Yeah.” I narrowed my eyes and imagined tripping him down the stairs. “It’s in my dorm, you ass.”
With one final look that gave me shivers down to my toes, he gave me a nod and walked down the hall, “See you later, Pony.”
“Bye, asshat.” I called. “And thank you.”
He froze.
I should have stopped talking. Normally I would have stopped talking. Crap! I never spoke out of turn or talked back. But something about him brought out the worst in me I guess.
“I always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss a tattooed bad ass with a chip on his shoulder. Officially crossed that one off my bucket list.”
His shoulders shook. He turned, a look of complete amusement washed over his features. “Careful.”
“Or what? You gonna pull a knife on me or something?”
“We both know I wouldn’t need to use violence to get you to respond, sweetheart.” His smile was crooked as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And you, little girl, better be careful. You’re dangerously close to getting me to fall for you, and I don’t do relationships, I do girls. Call me if you’re ever lonely. I’m sure I can even make that purple pony blush crimson given the chance.”
“Y-you’re disgusting!” I called as he walked away. Wow. Great, Saylor, way’ta add a stutter to really show him how much he affects you.
“You’re welcome!” he fired back, waving his hand in the air and making his way slowly down the stairs.
Shaking, I quickly opened the door to the practice room and then slammed it behind me. With a sigh, I touched my lips with my fingertips and leaned against the wall, then slowly sank to the ground. What. Just. Happened?
Chapter Five
What the hell had possessed me to accost a perfectly innocent girl in the hallway? Oh right, my squeaky clean past had come up to haunt me — it was annoying as hell. —Gabe H.
Gabe
My lips stung like hell.
I was losing my damn mind.
Embarrassment wasn’t really an emotion I was used to feeling, but there it was, bright as a freaking rainbow raining on my damn parade. Right. Because rain came during rainbows. I winced at my inability to even get a metaphor right in my mind. Music had a way of sucking everything out of me, all my anger, hurt, frustration, sadness, helplessness. And there she had been, standing there just listening!
And her eyes.
Hell, those eyes.
I knew those eyes — those were the true eyes of a musician. She’d been impressed, stunned, and a bit worried about me. I could see it all, could calculate just what was going on in that innocent little brain of hers. She was curious about me, curious about the music, and, thank God, hadn’t recognized me.
But the worst part?
Her face reminded me of the seas of faces. The ones I let down, the ones I left. The people who’d depended on me, who’d looked up to me, who — without knowing they were setting me up for failure — put me on the highest damn pedestal they could find.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. Ignoring it, I continued the brisk pace toward my bike.
Kim had looked at me like that, with those eyes.
“Why now?” I said aloud. “Why the hell is this happening now?” Of all times. Why. Now. It seriously felt like God had abandoned me. I was alone, stuck in a pit of nothing, defenseless, a sitting duck, wallowing in emptiness.
My brain chose that moment to remind me of the perfume I smelled earlier that morning on the barista. I picked up my pace.
My stomach clenched. Either I was going to be sick, or I needed to go for a long ride somewhere to clear not only my head but the perfume. It was as if the scent had a life of its own, swirling around my mind, consuming every part of me until it wasn’t separate, but part of my soul. Its tentacles wrapped around my heart, and like any man with regrets, I felt them squeezing me so tight that my first response was to lash out and then retreat.
The perfume this morning, the phone call from Lisa, the girl in the piano room… shit. Worse of all, she’d heard the song. The one I’d written.
Worst timing in the world — because that immediately set me off. How dared she listen in on something so freaking private?
I hadn’t planned on kissing her, but I was pissed, and thought if I just scared her off, she’d freak out or just slap me away, at least then I’d feel something, right?
Wrong.
She’d kissed me back.
Wrong move, considering the whole dry spell and all, her little body had fit exactly in the outline of mine.
I couldn’t blame her — she had no way of knowing that the last girl that felt that perfect in my arms… was no longer present. So really it wasn’t her I was angry at. Maybe it was myself.