London Falling (18 page)

He placed the binder next to him and leaned dangerously close to me. I felt my heart race when he stared at me with an intense, lustful gaze. “Sure thing?”

I bit down on my lip. Beau was making me come undone right here in the studio waiting room. “Yes. Sure thing.”

“Next! Your studio is waiting. Room B.” A large man appeared from the control room and pointed us in the direction of the padded room.

Beau casually strolled into the studio, leaving me to regain my composure. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull off the second part of the date he really wanted, but I did know there was no way I was going to let him down.

“London? You coming?” He stood in the doorway.

“Yep.” I hopped up from my seat and met him in the recording booth.

“I have the perfect song for us.” He pointed to one of the titles in the binder.

The man on the other side of the glass flipped the microphone switch so he could talk to us. “Ok. I have your song cued. You can do two run throughs and then we record it. Any questions?”

I pulled the headphones on over my ears and gave the operator a thumbs up. We were ready.

Beau adjusted his headset and winked at me. I was glad he was having fun with the date. We stumbled through the first take. I kept trying to match the pitch in his voice, and he was trying to keep up with the lyric placement. Singing without backup vocals is hard to do. By the third take, we nailed it.

“That’s a wrap. Wait in the lounge and I’ll have your CD ready in five minutes.” The voice boomed in the quiet studio.

Beau reached for my hand and led me to the waiting area. He took any chance he had to touch me.

“I have an awesome idea for the track.” He looked excited.

“What do you mean?”

“I can put it on the blog with this week’s post. Before you know it, we’ll have ten thousand downloads.”

That damn blog.
I didn’t really want to share the song with the whole campus or as Professor Garcia had mentioned, the country. I still hadn’t mentioned my conversation with our wacky professor to Beau. She canceled class Thursday, claiming she had the flu. It bought me another few days before I had to give her an answer about publishing the research. I was going to have to approach the impossible situation with him later tonight, before he distracted me with all his seductive tactics.

“London? Hello? You look like you’re a million miles away.”

“Sorry. Thinking about the blog.”

“We don’t have to post the song if you don’t want to. I thought it added another element for us.”

“No. No, it’s a great idea, but I do need to talk to you about class.”

“Ok. What’s up? You look serious.”

The door opened to the control room and the burly man shoved a CD in Beau’s hand. “Here you go. It’s a good song. You two aren’t bad together.” He patted Beau on the back before shuttling another group into Studio B.

“Can we get out of here? I want my rose now.” His hand found the curve above my hip and he planted his arm around my waist.

“Yes. I have more planned.” I smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

***

I couldn’t believe how dark it was at Kenan Stadium. It was the beginning of spring, so the football stadium wasn’t being used for anything, but still I thought there would be some kind of lighting.

We pushed on the chain-link gate and walked into the concrete corridor. It was eerie how quiet the complex was at night.

“What part of Victoria’s date is this?” Beau asked over my shoulder.

I turned to face him. “This isn’t a
Love Match
date. This is our date.” He grinned at me; he was catching on. “Follow me.”

In less than two months, we would be walking these same stairs and taking our seats in the bleachers for graduation. Tonight, I didn’t want to think about what was going to happen in May. I only wanted to be with Beau.

We took the steps down to the field level and passed through the manicured hedges that bordered the football field. I read the numbered lines running across the grass until we reached the center. Before I picked Beau up tonight, I had stashed a small blanket in my bag just for this moment. I retrieved the blanket and pressed the corners, flattening it into the fifty-yard line.

“Last time I tried this, the guard at Gimghoul Castle ran us off. What do you think the chances are we can actually sit here on the fifty-yard line and do some stargazing?”

Beau laughed as he sat next to me. “You are better at checking things off my list than I am. Stargazing at Kenan?”

“That’s not all. I brought drinks.” I reached into my bag and pulled out two beers.

“Is that like a Mary Poppins bag or something? You can fit anything in there.” Beau lifted the corner and peered into the side pocket.

“No. I just know how to pack.”

“We have to make a toast.” He raised the glass bottle in my direction. “To Carolina nights.”

I smiled and let my bottle tap his before taking a sip.

From where we sat, the sky looked like it was littered with diamonds. They stretched from one end zone to the other. It was a new moon, giving us the perfect night to find constellations.

“Now, about that rose.” His seductive eyes were watching me squirm.

Beau wedged his beer into a patch of grass. His eyes looked hungrily at my mouth. With an unexpected fierceness, he lunged at me, sending me back on the blanket. I threw my arms around his neck as his lips took mine.
So much for stargazing.

He paused, letting his hands trace the edges of my face. “London, I can’t keep my hands off you. This project is going to kill me.” My body bowed toward him as he playfully nipped at my neck with his teeth. “I want it to be over so we can stop sneaking around. I want to touch you whenever I want.”

Project. Shit.
I still hadn’t told him what was going on. “Beau, we need to talk about the project.” It was barely a whisper.

His hand cupped my bottom and he squeezed until I was pressed against the center of his body. “Just kiss me, London. We can talk later.”

As he brushed his lips over mine until my mouth parted for him, he worked the zipper down on my jeans so his hand could slip between my legs. I groaned. We could definitely talk later.

***

It was after two before I pulled into the driveway. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling pieces of grass out of the long strands. I giggled. I closed the front door behind me. The lights in the house were off as usual, but the TV was on. I glanced around the room before I saw the huge moving mound on the couch. Oh no. Someone was under there.

I held my breath and tiptoed across the floor. Maybe if I were quiet enough, whoever was under the blanket pile wouldn’t know I was home. No need to embarrass one of my roommates and her guest.

I had just made it to the kitchen when I heard, “Nina, someone’s in here.” I scuttled to the wall so that I could stay out of view. My heart was racing.

“Derek, you’re crazy. Don’t stop.” Nina’s voice was low and husky.

Quickly, I darted into my room before I heard another breathy movement.
Ick.
I muffled my laughter as I gently turned the handle on my bedroom door. Well, she had finally done it. Sunday breakfast was going to be interesting in our house.

CHAPTER TWELVE

The details were sketchy at best. Nina wasn’t as excited as I thought she would be after her four-year conquest had been achieved. Getting Derek to sleep with her didn’t produce the magic between them she thought would be there.

“It was good, but it wasn’t all fireworks and hotness. You know?” Nina was still in her pajama pants and her hair was in a ponytail.

I eyed her over my mug of tea. Of course I knew. Everything with Beau was fireworks. I couldn’t imagine anything else. “I’m sorry it wasn’t what you wanted, Nina. But hey, now you know. You can move on.”

“Move on? I’m not giving up after one night. He just wasn’t focused.” She bit into a piece of toast. “I’ll give him another chance.”

We made breakfast at noon—normal breakfast time for us. I didn’t go to sleep until after three. Beau kept texting me until my eyelids wouldn’t stay open. There was no telling what time Derek finally left after a night of un-hot sex.

“Honey, I just don’t want you to get your heart broken. Derek hasn’t been the most receptive and willing participant in all of this. There are other guys out there. Guys who would love to date you
and
sleep with you.”

She let out a long sigh. “Enough about Derek. How was the fake date last night?”

“Oh, nothing interesting.”

“London, come on. Beau is super hot. How can there be nothing going on between you two?”

My cheeks had to be turning pink. I walked over to the sink to wash out my mug. “He’s just my class partner. Ok?”

“Something is going on with you. Why won’t you talk about Beau?”

“Because there is nothing to talk about. I’m going to go work on my blog for last night’s date.”

Before my best friend and former confidant could pester me with more Beau questions, I rushed to my room. I took a deep breath. I had to find a way to erase all of the emotion I felt for Beau and our sixth date while I threw in bits of class theory into the post.

Date Six Re-creation: Victoria takes a bachelor to a recording studio

Show myth to debunk: Exposure to romantic television will incite romantic feelings

Based on the principles of Cultivation Theory, the longer an individual is exposed to certain behaviors on television, the likelihood increases that the person will start to believe the world around them is just like the TV behavior. In our case, watching multiple episodes of
Love Match
should spawn romantic notions that life is a romantic fairy tale. Ultimately, the more lavish dates and love proclamations we watch, the more we should start having some of those feelings. That is—if the show was real.

On our sixth date, Beau and I recorded a song together in a local studio. Minus the famous singing celebrity, we did exactly what Victoria and her bachelor did. We laughed and goofed around over the lyrics, but in the end, the date concluded the same way it started.

My stomach was turning in knots. I couldn’t finish the blog. I knew this is what I had agreed to do, but lying about the date wasn’t the only thing bothering me. I didn’t want people to read my words and think I wasn’t completely falling head over heels for Beau.

I needed to talk to him. I looked down at my pjs. First, I had to change into clothes.

***

I banged on the apartment door with more force than I knew was in my fist.

“What?” one of the gaming roommates called.

“It’s London. Can I come in?”

“Sure, Paris. Come on.” I think it was the one Beau had identified as Russ. I walked into the mess they called the living room. He had a remote in one hand and a piece of pizza in the other.

“You’re not giving up the name joke are you?” I asked, scanning the apartment for my fake boyfriend.

“Nope. Beau’s in his room. Last door on the left.” He never took his eyes off the TV.

I sidestepped a pile of clothes that had been dumped in the middle of the room. I couldn’t tell if they were clean or dirty. Quietly, I walked down the hall, pausing in front of Beau’s room. The door was closed. Maybe I should have called him. I had never shown up like this before. Although, Russ didn’t seem like the most perceptive person. He wasn’t going to put two and two together.

I tapped lightly on the door before nudging it open.

Beau was sitting at his desk typing. “What, Russ? Are you stuck on level three?”

I giggled. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about level three.” I closed the door behind me.

“London? What are you doing here?” He crossed the room and wrapped me in a big hug. My feet dangled from the floor.

“We need to talk.”

“Uh-oh. That’s never a good way to start a conversation.” He carried me over to his bed and lowered me on the unmade covers.

“Beau, this is what happened last night. I tried to talk to you and you kept distracting me.” I turned my head from side to side so he couldn’t access my lips.