Authors: Shannyn Schroeder

His New Jam (8 page)

BOOK: His New Jam

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Again, he had a point. New Year's was still more than two weeks away. They might be done by then. “We'll see.”

The bell rang and Hunter went to let the guys in. Lance and Jay were together when Hunter came back. Sydney didn't know if they traveled together or just had great timing. They both smiled and said hi when they saw her.

“ âBad Reputation' must've been your contribution,” Jay said as he took off his coat.

She blushed at the mention. When Hunter had given her the playlist for this weekend, “Bad Reputation” was a new addition. “Not my idea, but Hunter heard me playing it.”

“I like it. Good choice.”

Lance nodded in agreement. For the singer of the group, he didn't seem to talk much. Their friendliness surprised her. She was only a temp, someone with no weight in the group, no real say, and she'd be gone in a few weeks.

Although she wished Hunter hadn't added a song for her, she appreciated it. Hunter didn't say anything as they warmed up and got ready to play. In fact, he barely took notice of her. If only he could remember to do that at marching band practice, her life would be so much easier.

“Let's start with âBad Reputation' since it's new,” Hunter said when they were all ready.

All eyes turned to her. The attention overwhelmed her for a second. Hunter winked and the nerves eased. She counted off in her head and began to play. The song was easily one of her favorites, both because the beat was so strong and because the lyrics suited her. And Hunter, she suddenly realized. Lance began to sing, but he tripped up at the first verse because of the word
girl
.

“I can't sing
girl
. I can say I'm a lot of things, but that ain't one.”

Sydney snickered. “So substitute
guy
.”

He smiled at her, his lips lifted at a crooked angle. “Maybe you should sing.”

“Sorry. No one wants to hear that. I sound bad even in the shower.”

Jay leaned over to see her around Lance's shoulder. “Maybe we need a demonstration.”

Hunter smacked him in the head, making Sydney laugh again. “Stop acting like you've never been around a chick.” He pointed at Syd. “From the top.”

This time they made it through without a hitch. Then they played again, sounding even better. She'd forgotten how much fun it could be to play with other musicians. Marching band didn't count.

After “Bad Reputation,” they moved on to the rest of the set, which were all male-dominated fuck-the-world kind of songs. They were all so different from the music she heard Hunter play when he was alone or at Andy's. She wondered if Lance and Jay knew about his other gig.

Throughout the set, Hunter bounced between instruments. He played the sax, the keyboard, and even the guitar. He excelled at everything he touched. It made her remember his hands on her. Pushing the thought aside, she focused on the music. She didn't want to miss a beat.

She had a great time playing, and when they were done hours later, sweat trickled down her back and between her boobs. She'd have to remember to dress in easily removable layers for Friday night. As Jay packed up his guitar, he looked back and forth between Hunter and Sydney, like he wanted to ask something. Hunter seemed oblivious to it.

She met his gaze and raised her eyebrows in question. He turned to Hunter and said, “Hey, man, could you grab me a bottle of water to go?”

“Sure.” Hunter left the room and Jay came close.

“Is there a problem?” she asked.

“Nope. I like you. I like the way you play. But I see the way he looks at you. Is that going to be a problem?”

How Hunter looked at her? She couldn't even figure out what that meant. “How does he look at me?”

“A cross between wanting to rip off your clothes and raise you on a pedestal.”

“I agree with the first half. We have chemistry. You're way off on the second, but there's nothing to worry about. We're having fun. That's it.”

“Make sure he's on the same page. He's my friend and I don't want him to get screwed over.”

Sydney's skin prickled with awareness, so Hunter must've come back into the room. Jay stepped away, so she didn't answer him, not that she had a clue what to say. Like she would ever have the power to screw Hunter over.

Hunter tossed the water bottle at Jay. “What's going on?”

“Nothing,” Jay answered. “See you tomorrow night.”

Syd watched them leave and tried to process what felt like a warning from Jay. Hunter reached out, handing her a bottle of water, too. She took it, drank a few gulps, and then asked, “Ready for your lesson?”

“In a minute. What happened with Jay?”

“Nothing.”

“You looked spooked. Did he say something to upset you?”

The flash of anger in his eyes made her realize he was gearing up to defend her again. “No. Actually, I think he's trying to protect you. He asked what was going on between us. I told him we're having fun and there was nothing to worry about.”

“And?”

“He told me to make sure you're on the same page. Why's that? Do I strike him as the kind of person who lies or something?”

“Not you.”

She'd stepped in it now. Hunter ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. She said nothing, unsure how to proceed. Luckily for her, Hunter continued.

“I told you I've known Jay since we were teenagers.”

Syd nodded.

“In high school, I had this girlfriend, Shelly. We were in marching band and concert band, so we spent a lot of time together and had all the same friends. I thought we were serious.” He sat beside Sydney behind the drums. Their thighs touched, sending more warmth through her body.

“Let me guess: She didn't think it was serious.”

He nodded. “She broke up with me and took our friends with her.”

Sydney laid a hand on his leg. “That's shitty. But it was also high school. We all have crappy high school stories.” And some, like her, had mistakes that extended into college.

“Yeah. I'm over it.”

He sounded sure of himself. Almost believable.

“Wait a minute.” She nudged his knee with hers. “So I just got a if-you-hurt-my-friend-I'm-gonna-hurt-you talk from Jay?”

“I guess so.”

“I don't know if I should feel honored or threatened.”

“Honored. Totally.” He wrapped an arm around her neck and pulled her close for a quick kiss.

She yanked back. “We're not supposed to be doing this.”

Chapter 8

“Y
ou agreed to explore.” When she was this close, he had a hard time remembering any of her objections. He took an exaggerated look around the apartment. “Part of the deal was that no one from band could know. There's no one here.”

She sighed, knowing she had no argument. He moved in for another kiss. This time, she didn't pull away. With his hand at her nape, her hair brushing the back of his hand, he guided her to him.

She kissed like she played drums: all in.

It had only taken a few minutes with their lips locked, tongues tangling, for her to surge forward. She climbed onto his lap, notching herself against him.

His dick fought against his zipper for release. Hunter kissed along her jaw and down her neck. Her pulse thumped against his lips, and he tasted her sweat. She rocked her hips and he groaned. God, he wanted her naked.

Sydney yanked a fistful of his hair to grab his attention. He looked up at her and moved toward her mouth again. She leaned back, keeping him at arm's length.

“We need to stop,” she panted.

She was so hot against him. Keeping a grip on her hips, he shifted so she could feel how hard she'd made him.
By kissing
. A small whimper escaped her mouth before she pressed her lips closed.

“I swear I can keep a secret.” His words were more like a growl.

“It's not that. Although after what happened with Daniel, I have my doubts. I have to focus on school.”

“Is this about missing class?”

“Yeah. I can't afford that.”

Again, he knew there was more she wasn't saying.

Pressing on his shoulders, she climbed off his lap. She turned and bent over to grab the bottle of water she'd set on the floor.

Her ass poked right in front of him, so he squeezed. Maybe groped a little. She squealed and spun around.

He raised his hands in surrender. “It was right there. I couldn't help myself. How about dinner on Saturday? Band and regular classes will be over then. Just finals after that.”

She squinted one eye. “Okay. Until then, nothing.” She uncapped the water bottle and took a swig. “Ready for your lesson?”

Crap. He'd already had one lesson on self-restraint. “No. Not unless I'm pulling my dick out to use as a drumstick.”

She giggled. He tried to give her a dirty look, but when he saw the sweet smile on her face, he couldn't.

“Sorry. Things got a little out of hand again. I tried to stop you.” A little shake of her head said she wasn't the least bit sorry for his condition.

He closed his eyes and thought about unsexy things. Tuba players. Free dressed like the Riddler. Band uniforms. Old Mrs. Thompson who lived across the street and had eight cats. He inhaled deeply. All he had to do was keep his distance for two days.

When he reopened his eyes, her head was tilted back and her throat worked as she chugged the remaining water in the bottle. He thought again of Mrs. Thompsonâin a bikini. Mission accomplished.

“Okay. Today's lesson.”

Sydney smirked. “Are you still going to be okay if I come back behind the drums?”

“I'll try.”

When she strode over, she took her stool and moved it over a few inches so they would no longer be touching. He hoped it would be enough to help with his focus. She pulled out sheet music and set it on the tom in front of him. With her stick, she pointed to notes, explaining as she went.

After a half hour, Hunter realized he wasn't absorbing anything other than the scent of her warm skin. He laid a hand over hers. “Can we just play a song? I'm not getting this.”

“You're not getting this because you keep thinking about getting into my pants.”

“Guilty. So let's play and get my mind off it. Teach me âBad Reputation.' ”

“You're not ready for that.”

“Try me.”

She gave him a little shove away from the drums and started to play. When she paused, he pointed with his own stick for her to scoot away. He might suck at reading the music she put in front of him, but he had a great ear and picked it up fast. He repeated her actions. While not as fast or as smooth as she'd played, it was acceptable. Acceptable wasn't good enough for him, though, so he did it again.

When he looked over, Sydney was shoving her sticks into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Like I said before, you don't need lessons. You certainly don't need my bumbling attempts to teach you.”

He jumped from the stool and dropped his sticks. “I learn fast, but because I've never had lessons, the basic stuff you're giving me is great. I'm never going to play drums for me. I need those little things, like tapping out a rhythm on my lap. I don't know that stuff.”

Everything he said was true, but mostly, he didn't want her to cut out. He liked hanging out with her.

“How about a beer?”

“Not tonight. I have studying to do. Finals next week. If I'm playing with you tomorrow night, at the game on Saturday, and then going out Saturday night, I need time to study.”

“Okay. Water to go?”

She nodded. “Thanks.” Then she went back to shoving things into her bag.

When he came back from the kitchen, she took the water. “Do the guys know you play at Andy's?”

“Yeah, why?”

“It seemed like it was a secret or something. The music you play there, the music I heard when I came in today, it's not like what you play with the band.”

“I like variety.”

“You should play like that more often. It's who you are. I saw it at Andy's and I heard it from the porch. Those songs, the ballads, are . . . God, they're full of so much emotion.”

“Like you playing âBad Reputation'?”

She nodded again. “They mean something to you.”

He lifted a shoulder. He didn't often like to talk about what music did to him. “I play music at The Garage because I get paid to do something I like. We play what people want to hear. When I'm at Andy's it's a different crowd, so I play different music.”

“But you prefer one of those slow ballads to everything else, don't you?” Her warm brown eyes stared at him knowingly.

“Yeah. I like the slow emotion of them. The way you don't have to hear the words to feel what the song is expressing.”

She slid her arms into her jacket and then stepped close. “I think I need help with my zipper again. It's cold out there,” she whispered.

“You trying to test me or kill me?” he said as he tugged to close the jacket.

“Maybe I just wanted a good-bye kiss.”

The zipper hissed between them as he slid it up. He didn't need to pull her close because she rose up to brush her lips against his. He angled his head to take the kiss deeper. If he wasn't going to be able to touch her for two more days, he needed to make this one count.

His fingers found the soft skin of her neck and he stroked it as he thrust his tongue past her lips. Their breath mingled and their tongues tangled. Her hands moved across his chest, around his back and lower until she had a palm full of ass cheek. She groped him the way he had her and in doing so brought her hips crashing into his. He was hard again but thinking it away wasn't possible.

Hunter eased back and straightened the collar of her jacket. “Go study. See you tomorrow.”

“I like the way you talk about music almost as much as I like to hear you play it.”

Whoa. Hearing her talk like that was almost as good as the whimper she made on his lap. “Any requests for tomorrow? It's our last practice together.”

“Surprise me.” She grabbed her bag and left.

He looked out the front window as she got into her car and waited for it to warm up. Jay had wondered if Hunter was on the same page as Sydney. Having fun. As she pulled away, Hunter questioned if that was all they had. It felt like a lot more.

Friday night, Sydney paced through the small living room. Nerves tightened every muscle in her body. She'd thought getting through her last marching band practice with Hunter would be hard. For the most part, he acted as though he'd never laid eyes on her, which was exactly what she'd asked for, but it stung. She didn't think he'd be so good at it.

But then as they were dismissed, he broke out in song. He'd played the same song as when she'd arrived at his house yesterday. She'd stopped in her tracks, and although she didn't turn to look at him, she listened. She closed her eyes and felt the music, the way he'd described. The song was painful but beautiful.

She'd always seen Hunter as the party guy, quick with a joke, a laugh, a smile. Yet when she heard him play like that, it was nothing short of heartbreak.

Now, standing in her apartment, all she felt was fear. She was supposed to play her first paying gig tonight and all she could think was that she would screw it up.

Hunter texted to ask if she wanted to drive together. The Garage was closer to her house than his, so he offered to pick her up. It was probably for the best because she wouldn't be able to back out.

She rolled her shoulders. She could handle this. This was what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, so she needed to get over the nerves.

But that was where the fear took hold. If she screwed this up, she'd be stuck with her backup plan and she really didn't want that.

Trisha came home then and tossed her keys on the counter. “What time do you guys go on?”

“Uh, eight, I think.”

Trish glanced into the kitchen at the clock on the microwave. “You should get going then, don't you think?”

“Uh-huh. Hunter's on his way to get me.”

“This is the kisser?”

Syd rolled her eyes, but nodded. Trisha didn't know about him spending the night, and she wanted to keep it that way. She shook out her arms and inhaled deeply. She definitely couldn't think about kissing Hunter. Or anything with Hunter, for that matter.

Throwing her arms around Syd's shoulders, Trish squeezed and said, “Don't be nervous. You got this. I'll be there to cheer you on.”

“No.”

“You can't stop me. I want to see my baby sister rock.”

“Oh God. Please don't talk like that in the bar.”

“I promise not to embarrass you.”

The bell rang and Syd grabbed her jacket and an extra set of sticks, just in case. “See you later.”

“Break a leg.”

She ran down the stairs and walked out to meet Hunter.

“I don't get invited in?” he asked.

“We have to go, don't we?”

“I would've made time for you to give me an official tour of your apartment.”

“I'll introduce you to my sister later. She said she's coming to the show, so she can give me a ride home if you want.” She tugged her gloves on and followed him to his van. “Did you have to load everything up yourself?”

“It's not too bad. I had my roommate help.”

She felt bad, though, because the drums took up a lot of space and had to involve multiple trips. “I could've come to help. I'm using your drums.”

He started the car. “No big deal. And I'll drive you home.”

Without thinking about why, she decided she liked that. Her nerves settled somewhat, but she tried not to attribute it to Hunter's presence.

They drove in silence for a while, except for the radio playing some smooth jazz. She found it almost funny that he geared up for a rock concert by putting on easy listening. But then she remembered how he explained his love of the music.

“I liked what you played on the field today.”

“I cheated. I didn't learn something new. It was the song you heard me playing at home.”

“I know, but I really listened this time. It's a sad song, right?”

“I guess. It was âLet Her Go' by Passenger.” He started to hum and then picked up with some lyrics. As soon as she heard the words, she recognized the song. It was a lonely, painful kind of song, about loss and missing what you once had.

He stopped without finishing the song. Syd looked at him. “Life isn't fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“Not only can you play just about any instrument you pick up, but you can sing, too. It's not normal, and certainly not fair.” Plus he was gorgeous with great hair and an even better smile, which she absolutely refused to say out loud.

Of course, he chose then to turn his killer smile on her. “Don't hate me. I can't help that I was born gifted.”

“You have to be bad at something. I'd feel a whole lot better if I knew what.” She was only partially joking.

BOOK: His New Jam

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