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Authors: A. Meredith Walters

Bad Rep (17 page)

BOOK: Bad Rep
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“Yeah, I don't play that well.  The drums are definitely more my thing.  But sometimes I just like to jam out for a bit.  It's kind of a stress reliever.”  He looked back down at the guitar in his hands and started to move his fingers over the strings.  I was tickled to realize he was playing the opening chords of Tangerine, one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs.

 

“Don't play well my ass,” I teased, mesmerized as I watched him pull notes from his guitar.  Jordan looked at me and I couldn't help but smile at him.  Gone was the flirty, intense Jordan Levitt.  This Jordan was quiet and collected and perhaps even harder to resist.  He suddenly got up and shut his bedroom door.

 

My face flushed and I felt like I might hyperventilate.  Jordan must have recognized the look of panic on my face because he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly.  “The noise out there is giving me a headache.  Is this okay?” he asked and I appreciated him wanting my permission.  It was sweet.

 

And right then, I forgot about everything but being here with him...right now.  So I nodded.  Jordan dropped his hand and sat back down on his bed.  “You ever thought about learning to play?” he asked me as he continued to strum a tune.

 

I put a hand to my chest in mock horror.  “Dear god, no!  I'm musically challenged in the worst way.  Tone deaf doesn't even start to cover how bad I am when it comes to anything instrument related.” I explained adamantly. 

 

Jordan waved his hand, gesturing for me to come over to him.  When I didn't move he smirked.  “I'm not going to bite,” he taunted, though his words seemed to hold the hint of a promise.  So against my better judgment, I stood up and sat down beside him on the bed.

 

Jordan lifted the guitar over his head and slid the strap around my neck and under my arm.  “I know you're a righty, so hold it like this.”  How in the world did he know I was right handed?  Jordan couldn't miss the question in my silence.  “When you write down orders, it's always with your right hand,” he explained, looking a little shy by the admission.

 

I knew he watched me sometimes, but knowing he paid that close of attention was more than a little flattering.  He leaned behind me and propped his chin on my shoulder.  His arms came around me and he took my right hand and placed it over the strings.  Then he wrapped his hand around my smaller left one as we gripped the fret board together.

 

“You have to loosen up.  The first thing about music is you can't think too much about it.  You kind of have to feel it.  Does that make sense?”  His breath tickled my ear as he spoke.  I had to force my body not to shiver as I became entirely too focused on the feel of his chest pressed against my back.  I could smell the grease from his shift at Barton's mixed with a scent that was undeniably Jordan.

 

I swallowed thickly and nodded my head.  Jordan lifted my forefinger and held it down over one of the strings.  Then he took my middle finger and placed it one string down.  Followed by my ring finger that he positioned below that one.  He pressed my hand lightly into the biting metal.  He lifted my right  hand in his and took my fingers, running them along the length of the guitar, top to bottom.  The sound it emitted was pretty. 

 

I turned my head a bit to look at him and grinned.  “That was cool!” I enthused. 

 

Jordan smiled back.  “That was an A chord,” he said, obviously enjoying my excitement.  His smile slowly faded and I became very aware of how close our faces were.  Our lips were almost touching and all I could do was stare into his beautiful blue eyes. 

 

If I moved forward just a fraction of an inch I could kiss him.  God I wanted to kiss him.  No, I
needed
to kiss him.  Needed it like I needed the air that I breathed.  How had I never noticed how incredibly amazing Jordan's eyes were?  They weren't just blue; they were this molted blend of light blue and darker cerulean.  Someone could get lost looking in those eyes.  And for a second I did.

 

Until I realized what was happening and I pulled myself away.  I cleared my throat and looked down at his hands holding mine over the guitar.  “Can you show me a different chord?” I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to steady myself.

 

Jordan took my cue and backed up a bit, putting some space between our bodies.  But he didn't drop my hands as he held them tightly, moving my fingers into another chord position. 

 

Fifteen minutes later and he had walked me through the opening chords of Stairway to Heaven.  I had this incredible moment of accomplishment.  I couldn't stop the goofy smile that made its way across my face.  Jordan was smiling too and I felt like we just sort of clicked.  We got each other on a level I had never experienced with another person other than Riley. 

 

And then it all fell spectacularly apart.  “Jordan!” I heard Olivia call from the hallway.  Suddenly the door flew open, bouncing off the wall.  I jumped up, the guitar swinging heavily off of my shoulder.  Jordan got to his feet as well, running his hands through his hair. 

 

“There's my baby cakes,” Olivia slurred, falling into Jordan and wrapping her arms around his waist.  I stood rooted to the spot.  I was helplessly immobile as Olivia started slobbering all over Jordan's chin, trying to reach his lips.

 

Jordan seemed kind of disgusted by her and tried to gently move her away.  “Baby, I need you.  I want you to fuck me,” she whispered loudly as she shoved her hand down Jordan's pants.  He flushed a bright red, which would have been funny if my heart wasn't being shred to pieces.

 

He looked up at me in apology.  I quickly pulled the guitar over my head and dropped it unceremoniously onto the bed.  “I guess I should get going.”  I hated how shaky my words were in my own ears.  Jordan pulled Olivia's hand out of his pants and tried to get around her. 

 

“Jordan...” Olivia whined.  Jordan made a grunt in frustration.

 

“Mays, wait,” he started but I just shook my head. 

 

“Thanks for the guitar lesson,”I muttered, turning to leave. 

 

“Jordan...I think I'm gonna be sick.”  Olivia ran into Jordan's bathroom and then all I could hear was the sound of her retching.

 

Jordan ran his hand over his face in agitation.  “Maysie, I'm sorry...” he began.

 

I raised my hand to stop him.  “You have nothing to be sorry about.  Now, go take care of your girlfriend,” I emphasized the word girlfriend and I couldn't stop the sound of my bitterness. 

 

Jordan stared at me and looked as though he wanted to say something.  But the moment was broken by Olivia's miserable moans from the bathroom.  Jordan sighed and with a final look in my direction, followed her, closing the door.  I stared into the space we had occupied only a few minutes before.  How different things seemed now than before Olivia came bursting into the room.

 

Jordan had a girlfriend.  And I was a fucking fool.

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

 

I had about four stops to make before I had to head over to the Chi Delta house in an hour.  This afternoon was our third party for rush week.  The first two had gone off without a hitch and we had found some girls that would fit in with our group perfectly. 

 

Today was the infamous skit.  Vivian ended up writing most of it.  I didn't feel comfortable going to Jordan's house to work on it after the party incident.  Things had gotten pretty intense between us and I was back to trying to maintain distance.  Which was easier now that school had started.  I had to cut back my hours at both jobs, so right now I was only working at Barton's one shift a week.  My schedule hadn't coincided with Jordan's in quite awhile.

 

Though I wouldn't be able to avoid him forever because this weekend was the Pi Sig mixer.  I still hadn't found a date, much to my sisters' horror.  But I decided to screw it and go stag.  The thought of scrounging up a date and forcing myself to interact all evening with someone I barely knew sounded exhausting.  But I had gone out and bought myself an adorable little dress that was a deep red with an awesome skirt that flared out around my upper thighs.

 

I know, I know, I shouldn't be spending.  But I figured with the way I had been busting my ass, I deserved it. 

 

I was walking down the aisles at the Super Walmart downtown, trying to find tiny cocktail umbrellas and pink party napkins.  The only thing I was finding so far were tacky and not at all with the pink and punk theme we had going on for today's rush event. 

 

Feeling frustrated I decided to head over to the pharmacy section and pick up a few items I needed.  I grabbed a box of tampons, some Midol and some super absorbency maxi pads.  Because of course my period had to fall on the most important week of my fall semester.  My uterus seemed to be plotting against me.  Then on a whim, I grabbed a giant bag of Swedish Fish just because I loved them.  And having your period called for copious amounts of sweets.

 

I was holding the items precariously balanced in my arms when I tripped over a cart that was conveniently left in the middle of the aisle.  As if in slow motion, I fell face first to the floor and my feminine hygiene items sailed into the air,  landing at the feet of none other than Jordan Levitt.

 

Of course!  It just made sense that he would be the one to share my embarrassment.  Because the universe wasn't kind enough to allow me be alone in the aisle when I face planted.

 

“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning down to take my hand. I wished I could tuck my head into my shirt like a damn turtle. Just so I wouldn't have to look at him standing there, holding my ginormous assortment of maxi pads with new super strength absorbent wings for your heavy flow.

 

Just kill me now.

 

“Here you go,” Jordan said, dropping my humiliating grocery list into my basket.  He didn't look embarrassed in the slightest.  As though he were used to girls throwing their tampons at him. 

 

“Thanks,” I mumbled, feeling like the biggest tool on the planet. 

 

I peeked up at him and saw him smile at me.  I couldn't help but smile back, even as I tried to hide my basket behind my back.  It had been two weeks since I had seen him and it might as well have been a year with the way my body responded to his presence.

 

“So, stranger, how've you been?” he asked, falling into step beside me as we headed toward the shampoo and conditioner. 

 

I lifted my shoulders.  “You know, busy and stuff.  School is crazy right now.  With classes and rush, I barely have time to sleep,” I told him, picking out my brand of shampoo and tossing it into the basket.

 

I watched Jordan choose some deodorant and put in with my items.  I felt all warm and fuzzy, like we were a married couple doing our shopping together.  Married couple?  Hell, we were barely friends.  I needed a serious reality check.

 

“So, how's Olivia?” I asked, slamming both of us back into that reality.  Jordan's shoulders tensed a bit but I may have imagined it because his voice was even and unaffected when he answered me.

 

“She's fine, I guess.  But you probably see more of her than I do.  She goes into sorority hibernation the week of rush.  Nothing can deviate her focus from all things pink and frilly.”  I thought I heard a twinge of annoyance in his statement.  But again, I was most likely searching for something that wasn't there.

 

“Yeah, the girls go a little nutso with all of it.”  I picked out a new toothbrush and put it in the basket while Jordan tossed in some mouth wash. 

 

“And you don't?” he asked, looking down at me. 

 

I shook my head.  “No way.  I mean, I love being in Chi Delta, but there's more to life than cupcakes and talking to random people about how much I love sparkles,” I said sarcastically.  Jordan laughed.  He seemed to like my answer, which was odd considering he was as entrenched in the Greek system as his girlfriend.

 

“How's rush going for the Pi Sigs?” I asked as we made our way through the Walmart. 

 

“Same as every other rush, I suppose.  I've been pretty busy so I've missed a bunch of the events actually.” 

 

I looked at him in surprise.  “I thought you were the president.  Aren't you kind of required to be there?” I asked as we got in line to check out.

 

“Well, funny you mention it, I stepped down from my position earlier this week.”  My eyes widened. 

 

“You did?  Can you do that?” I asked, taken aback. 

BOOK: Bad Rep
13.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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