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Authors: A. Meredith Walters

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BOOK: Bad Rep
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Riley and I
had been coming in from getting breakfast and I had seen this guy lugging a guitar case up the stairs and into the hallway.  He had short blond hair and a nice, easy smile.  I was instantly entranced. 
 

Later that same day, as I was leaving for work, I had come out into the hallway to find the same guy playing on that same guitar on the steps leading outside.  He had been playing the melody from Under the Bridge by Red Hot Chili Peppers and I couldn’t help myself from stopping to listen.  He wasn't that great or anything, mediocre at best.  But I used it as an excuse to stop and sit down beside him.
 

He was good looking, in that slacker, grungy kind of way.  With messy blond hair that always hung in his face and hooded blue eyes.  I had ended up calling in sick to work in favor of hanging out listening to this guy play his guitar.  Afterward I sat with him in his cousin’s apartment while he smoked a joint and talked about the fate of modern music ad nauseum.

I found out the guitar guy, Eli Bray, lived in town and worked at a local garage.  He had no plans to go to college and barely made it through high school.  He smoked pot like crazy and did little more than hang out with his cousin Randall and his cousin’s girlfriend, Cicely, playing his guitar.

When I really thought about it, I was slightly mortified to be attracted to someone like that. I was the complete opposite of Eli in every possible way.  But considering my recent descent into slackerdom, perhaps that explained the inexplicable attraction.

Riley hated him and made that clear on the few times I had invited Eli over.  Riley had barely spoken to him and often opted to pretend he wasn’t there at all.  So I started waiting for my roommate to leave before asking Eli to come over, which annoyed me because it felt too reminiscent of living at home with my folks again.
 

Despite the fact that Eli was motivationally challenged, he was pretty fun to hang out with.  And shit, to be totally honest, he turned me on like crazy.  We hadn’t slept together yet, but there were plenty of other lust-fueled activities to spend our time on.  And truthfully, that was the sole basis for the relationship.
 

So when Eli suggested that I hang with him at Randall’s, I had a hard time resisting the offer. Considering I knew we would put in an obligatory show for about twenty minutes before Eli would drag me into the spare bedroom.  It made me tingle to think of spending an afternoon like that.

But I had other priorities just then. Ones that unfortunately, didn’t involve hot guitar boy's tongue.

 

“Can’t, I have to go find a second job.  Had the heart attack surprise of an overly inflated credit card bill this month.” I picked up my pack of cigarettes and headed inside.
 

The beautiful thing about Eli is that he didn’t immediately chastise me like Riley had.  He didn’t question what I had spent the money on.  It could have been he was being respectful, or more likely, he just didn’t care.  He simply took my word that I had other plans and didn’t push me for more.  But on the other hand, it made me feel like he really could have cared less about what was going on in my life. Which is the very reason I could never contemplate taking this
thing
we had going on to any sort of other level.  Eli Bray and boyfriend didn't belong in the same sentence.  And for now, I could live with that.
 


Okay babe.  Well, I’ll be at Randall’s this afternoon. Come by if you can. I’ll catch up with you later.” No assurance of when I’d hear from him again, just a vague ‘see ya.’
 

Before I could reply, the line went dead. Okay then. Riley emerged from the bathroom, a waft of steam following her into the hallway.  “You didn’t use up all the hot water again, did you?”  I complained, grabbing my robe from the back of my bedroom door.

 

Riley shrugged. “Should be a bit left, no promises.”  I groaned and closed the door to the bathroom.
 

I
took out the tweezers and spent a few minutes plucking the crazy bushes I called eyebrows into some semblance of shape.  I pulled the skin at the corner of my eyes and stuck out my tongue.  I  was pretty, even I could admit that.  With dark brown hair that stopped just below my shoulders and even darker eyes.  I was slender without being skinny and was pleased with the way I had curves in all the right places.  Despite my attractive appearance, I had gone largely unnoticed in high school when it came to the opposite sex.  So it had been quite a shock when I came to Rinard College and discovered that guys actually liked me.  Desired me even.
 

As a result of this new self-realization, I discovered that I liked to date, and date often.  I had had a string of sort of serious boyfriends on and off since I was a freshman.  None of them lasted longer than a month or two.  Now that I was entering my junior year, I had every intention of continuing on my semi-monogamous path.
 

I
was by no means a delusional romantic.  I was 100% into every guy that I dated, but I had never experienced real “love.”  Sure, I had lost my virginity mid-way through my first year of college to a guy I swore was the cutest boy I had ever seen.  But two months later, I found myself being dumped for a hot sophomore with double D breasts in his biology class.  Sure it had hurt, but I got over it.  I always did.  That's how I knew the love bug hadn't bit me yet.  Maybe I was a bit behind the curve in that department.  I thought about Eli and almost laughed at the thought of him being my “one.”
 

No way in hell.
 

I
rushed through my shower, finding that the water turned frigid after about four minutes.  Damn Riley! I hurriedly got ready, forgoing blow drying my hair in favor of a quick and sloppy bun at the back of my head.
 

I
threw on a knee length black cotton skirt and teal tank top.  Dabbing a bit of lip gloss on and I was ready to go.  Grabbing my brown leather handbag, I followed Riley out of the apartment.  We ran into Eli's cousin Randall as we were making our way to Riley's beat up Volvo.  He was lugging a huge guitar amp out of his trunk.  “Hey, Maysie.  You comin' by later?”  Randall asked in that stoner way of his.  His eyes were bloodshot and a little unfocused, making it obvious a wake and bake had been part of his morning routine.

 

Riley rolled her eyes and got into her car without greeting our neighbor.  I smiled politely and shook my head.  “Can't.  Have to find another mode of gainful employment.  But I'll try and stop by this evening.  Will you guys be around?”  I asked, glaring at Riley as she gave the car horn a quick toot. 

 

Randall started rolling the amp toward the apartment building.  “We're heading out to the lake for a party tonight, should be killer.  Swing by if you want.”  I tried not to growl in frustration.  Eli hadn't mentioned anything about a party.  Reinforcing that a serious relationship is not what we had.

 

I plastered a fake smile on my face.  “Yeah, maybe.  See ya around.”  And with that I got in the car.  Riley gave me a look as she pulled out of the parking lot.  “What?” I asked defensively.  Riley pulled a face. 

 

“Why do you insist on hanging out with those losers?  They look diseased.”  I groaned.  

 

“Jeesh, judge much?  They're nice, alright?  And have you looked at Eli lately?”  I muttered, picturing his cut abs as I
t
urned on the radio.  Riley just shook her head as she pulled out into traffic, heading toward downtown Bakersville, where Barton's Pub was located.

 

“You can do so much better than that mouth breather.  It's bordering on gross,”  Riley quipped, turning the radio station from the pop I had chosen, to a band that sounded more like screaming than actual music.

 

“Look, can we not talk about Eli?  I know how you feel about him, but the last time I checked, it was my life,” I said with irritation.  God, I loved her Riley, I really did.  But her moral superiority was a little hard to swallow at times.

 

Thankfully we pulled up to Barton's and further discussion about the matter was essentially brought to an end.  I got out of the car and looked up at the building.  Barton's was a favorite with the Rinard crowd.  I had spent many a night procuring underage booze and getting wasted within its four walls.  The establishment was more liberal than most bars in their carding system, so it was very popular with the younger college set. 

 

Riley and I pushed open the door and walked inside.  The smell of stale beer hit me in the face as we made our way inside.  During the day, Barton's was a run of the mill restaurant but it couldn't hide its seedier watering hole side. 

 

We approached the hostess stand and waited.  “Maysie!  Riley!  What the hell are you doing here?”  a girl squealed from behind us.  I turned around to see my friend Jaz Digby, decked out in her official Barton's polo shirt and short black skirt. 

 

I had completely forgotten that Jaz was a part-time waitress here.  Jaz had lived on the same floor as Riley and me freshman year and I had remained friends with her despite not having hung out socially in a long time.  Riley thought she was obnoxious.  Though, the truth was Riley found most people to be obnoxious, so her feelings about Jaz weren't surprising.

 

 

Jaz was beautiful in an exotic way.  Her mom was Japanese and her dad, American so she inherited the best parts of both heritages.   “Hey, girl!  We're here to fill out applications,”  I said, giving her a quick hug.  Jaz beamed at me. 

 


That's awesome!  We've been shorthanded for weeks!  I'll go get Moore,” Jaz said, going toward the back of the restaurant.  Riley sat down on the bench by the front door and I followed suit, crossing my legs and bouncing my foot. 

 

Jaz came back out a few minutes later and sat down beside us.  “Moore'll be out in a minute.  It would so cool if you guys worked here.  The tips are fantastic.” 

 

“That's what I need to hear,” I said, smiling with the promise of fiscal relief. 

 

“I thought you were working at that shop in town,” Jaz commented, turning to me.  I shrugged. 

 

“Needed a heavier cash flow, so a second job it is.”  Riley snorted beside me and I ignored it.

 

“Well, whatever, I hope you get the job.  I'll put in a good word for you,” Jaz promised, squeezing my hand.  Jaz suddenly started straightening her shirt, pulling the neck down so that her cleavage was more pronounced.  She discreetly smoothed her straight black hair and rubbed her finger across her teeth.

 

I looked at her in confusion.  What was with all the preening?  Then a deep voice caught my attention.  It was one of those voices that you imagine hearing in a darkened bedroom.  After naughty sex.  The kind of voice that was a combination of the most decadent chocolate and outright sin.  “Are you the ones wanting applications?”  I looked up and swallowed.  Damn, who the hell was this?

 

A guy stood there, holding out two sheets of paper.  I sat there, staring like an idiot.  Because sweet lord was he cute.  No, cute didn't even begin to describe what he was.  The guy standing in front of us, had short cropped dark hair and beautiful blue eyes.  He had a tiny dimple in his chin and his nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken before.  He was tall and lean, but I could see the muscles of his arms beneath the fitted Barton's t-shirt.  He sported an eyebrow ring and I caught the glimpse of metal in his tongue when he spoke.  I also noticed the upper edges of a tattoo along both sides of his neck.  Holy bad boy Batman!  He oozed sex appeal.  And from his arrogant stance, he knew it.

 

Jaz jumped to her feet and gave the boy a hug.  “Jordan!  I didn't know you were here!” she squealed.  I looked at Riley who only rolled her eyes.  Jordan hugged Jaz back before disengaging himself from her clingy arms. 

 

“Yeah, just walked in two seconds ago.  Moore is still on the phone, so he asked me to bring out the applications.”
 
Jordan looked at me and my stomach flipped over.  I opened my mouth but no words came out.  God, I must look like an idiot.  But I couldn't stop staring at him.  The longer I looked at him, the more I realized there was something familiar about him.  I just couldn't quite place what.

 

Jaz plastered herself to his side, making a point to press her ample breasts against his arm.  Riley snickered and I was finally able to break the intense staring contest we seemed to be engaging in.

 

“My friends here want to apply for the wait staff positions.  Jordan, this is Maysie Ardin and Riley Walker.  Guys, this is Jordan Levitt.” 

 

“Charmed.” Riley deadpanned before taking the paper from his hand.  Jordan smirked then handed the other one to me.

 

“Here ya go, Maysie,” he said, his eyes twinkling; as though he knew how much it turned me on to hear him say my name. 

BOOK: Bad Rep
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