Wanting Reed (Break Me) BOOK 2 (10 page)

“No, for a job.” He laughs, noticing the look on my face as he shoves a spoonful of Lucky Charms into his mouth and talks between chews. “My friend owns the joint where I’m taking you tonight. He needs a bouncer to man the door. You could be the perfect candidate. What do you think?”

“I’ve never thought of that,” I say. Perhaps Luke may be on to something. I’ve never done it before, but I’m big enough to do it.

“So, are you down then?” He asks, examining me amusingly.

“Yeah.” I answer

“Cool. We’ll head out around ten tonight. We’ll take your ride. My car is in the shop getting a tune-up.”

“Fine,” I say. I haven’t driven the Hummer since I came back home because Luke has been the designated driver every night so I can drown my sorrows. “Where is this place?”

“Cambridge. It’s called the Middle East. Live bands and hot chicks,” he exclaims, wiggling his eyebrows. “Got to like the sound of that, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I need a job to make rent and to eat, man. I’m not worried about hooking up right now,” I answer, watching my roommate devour the bowl of cereal.

“Fuck, like I said, if you didn’t pull your David Copperfield on everyone, your shit would be straight.” He wipes the milk from his chin with his arm.

“Thanks for fucking reminding me.” I flinch at the thought of my recent screw up.

“Dude, I’m just trying to help you out.”

“Let’s not bring it up anymore. That’s helping me out,” I reply as I grab my keys and gym bag and head toward the door.

“Start by living, all right? I don’t like seeing my roommate all sad and shit,” he says as he places the bowl into the sink. “Where are you going now?”

“To the gym,” I say. If I can’t put my energy into Elle, then I need to focus on getting ready for tryouts. I can’t fucking give up on everything.

“Good idea. Work off some of the frustration.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“See you later tonight. Ten p.m. sharp.” He chuckles.

“Later,” I reply.

I bought a membership at a rundown gym on Commonwealth Avenue right next to Boston University so I can work out. It doesn’t look like a place that Cane or Tyler would frequent. I don’t want to be seen right away, and I don’t want any trouble.

I head into the locker room to change. The lockers are aged and rusted, but I don’t give a shit. I checked out the equipment and everything is decent and will do the job. I just came to work out my legs and strengthen my knee since the cast on my arm won’t come off for another week. I pull out my iPod and shove my stuff into a locker closest to the showers. I hear voices coming from the showers just as I get ready to lock up and leave to start my workout.

“Can’t fucking be,” I mumble under my breath. I recognize the voices right away. I look around the corner and spot Jace and Cane coming from the gym. I guess my assumption was wrong. They stop and talk to a couple of other guys who are getting ready to head out to the gym. This gives me some time to decide what I’m going to do. Should I just hang around and face the music? I’m going to have to face these guys sooner or later. I just wasn’t mentally prepared to battle with both of them. I’m not sure I want Jace to go back to Elle and tell her that he saw me before I can do it in person. The thought of her finding out I’m back like that would be devastating, far worse than me leaving her like I did. I can’t have that happening. Pissed, I decide against working out. I grab my shit out of the locker and head out before anyone can see me.

I only have a couple of other options. I can live in a prison of my own making by going back home to mope around the apartment and channel surf, or I can register for classes. The campus is big enough that I shouldn’t run into anyone. I said that about the gym, though. There’s no way that my damn luck can be that fucked up twice.

The campus is pretty quiet except for the trains running up and down Commonwealth Avenue; morning traffic is not that heavy yet since it is still early. I pass the main building and head across the quad to find a quieter space to think.

Elle will be taking classes. I doubt she is out here right now, but I find myself looking for her, hoping just to see her and maybe even approach her. Maybe not. I don’t know. I want to. If I don’t, it’s going to drive me crazy. Actually, it already is.

I gaze across the street toward the Boston University athletic building and campus. Quickly deciding to make the most of my extra time, I head to the registrar’s office, which is located on the other side of campus, to register for classes. Changing directions, I head to the intersection and cross the street when the light says it’s all right to go. I start to pick up the pace as the administration building comes into view. I’m anxious to occupy my mind with something other than Elle for once, but I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.

Sitting on a bench under a tree outside the administration building, I leaf through the class schedule because I’m not quite ready to go inside yet. The damn words and course numbers don’t mean shit to me. The idea of registering and taking classes this fall seems near fucking impossible right now. I should take a full load and try to get this degree completed in less than two years. Maybe I won’t have to complete it if April tryouts go as planned, but I’ve never been someone who starts something without finishing it or doing shit half-ass. Case and point. I managed to fuck up what I had with Elle with no chance of redemption and then I did the same with gambling. I landed in the hospital with some broken bones and a fucking broken heart for keeping my damn mouth shut when I should have been spewing out every damn word about my past to her. I was basically holding out for shit just to pass. My plan was to coast along without having to tell her. I deserve this. I’m damn near batting one hundred when it comes to messing up shit in my pathetic life.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit here?”

I look up and shield my eyes from the sun. Damn sunglasses. I knew I forgot something when I left the house. I attempt to make out the person standing in front of me, but all I can see are some black sandals outlined with fancy jewels and bright red toes. I like that. It makes me smile, and then I think of Elle. I move my eyes up from her feet and notice her shapely legs. She’s wearing cut-off shorts and a black tank top with a skull and cross bones printed on it. A couple of sterling silver chains hang from her graceful neck. I finally reach her face that’s framed by long black hair and these fucking amazing big, gray eyes. She has to be Native American because her skin is the color of caramel, and she’s wearing silver bangles on her right wrists that jingle when she moves her backpack off her shoulder.

“Sure,” I react by dropping my backpack in front of me to make room for her.

“Thanks,” she says. Her voice is sultry, like she’s almost singing her words. I glance over at her as she grabs her water bottle from her backpack and takes a drink. “Piper,” she says as she extends her hand.

“Reed. Nice to meet you,” I say as I take her hand in mine. I’m surprised at how strong her grip is.

“What happened to your arm?” She taps my cast with her finger, raising her sparkling gray eyes to mine.

“I took a spill,” I answer, remembering the night in the hotel room when I got the shit beat out of me. That was more than a spill; that was a fucking collision with a Mack truck. It was a major wake-up call, and I’m lucky to be alive.

“I broke my wrist a couple of times. Hairline fractures. Hurt like a bitch and the cast itched like crazy.” She frowns and her eyes twinkle. Damn. She’s a pretty girl.

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I get this shit off in a week.”

“Can I sign it?” she chirps. In a flourish, she pulls out a black Sharpie from her backpack, flipping her long black hair behind her shoulder.

“You’re kidding, right?” I counter, quirking an eyebrow.

“Nope.” She takes off the cap and grabs my arm, resting it on her lap to steady it. She taps the marker on her chin contemplating, staring up into the clear blue sky before she puts the marker on my cast and starts writing. When she’s done, she pops the cap back on and smiles. “There,” she finishes as she lets go of my arm.

The pain passes, but the beauty remains. -Piper

“Very poetic,” I laugh as I check out her autograph.

“I always try to find the good in the bad,” she says, nodding her head at the schedule I’ve rolled up in my hands. “Registered for classes?”

“Not yet,” I reply, tapping the pamphlet on my knee.

“You’re one of those, aren’t you?” She glances at me from the corner of her eye.

“One of what?” I look over, wondering what the hell she’s thinking.

“Procrastinator.” She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. Her bracelets jingle and slide down her thin arm. “You wait until the last minute to do shit and hope the stars will align and everything will work out for you.”

I swallow hard. What the fuck? Is she some kind of psychic? She just basically explained my life in two sentences, and she doesn’t fucking know me from Adam.

“Do you always go around making fucking random assumptions about people?” I lean back and throw my arm across the bench as she shifts sideways to look at me.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” She laughs softly. Even her laugh has a slight musical quality to it. I wonder if she sings.

“Yeah.” I smirk, scratching the back of my neck.

“Yeah, okay.” She rolls her eyes as she digs through her backpack and pulls out a notebook. Shit. This chick is ballsy and not afraid to speak her mind. “So, are you a senior?” she asks.

“No, first-year grad student, and you?” I counter as I watch her flip through the pages of her beat-up notebook.

“Senior.” She pauses and looks at me. “What’s a guy like you taking in grad school?”

“Sports medicine,” I reply matter-of-factly.

“I should have known,” she affirms as her eyes travel to my biceps.

I grin, flicking my chin in her direction. “Let me guess, music major?”

“How’d you know?” she asks, tilting her head to the side in amusement.

“Your voice.”

“Shit, I get that a lot,” she answers, crossing her toned legs in front of her.

“Well, now you know how it feels.” I grin, thinking the conversation with her is so easy and relaxed. I haven’t talked to someone like this in a while, and it feels good.

“Touché.”

I open my mouth to say something, but her phone cuts me off. She digs it out of her backpack and frowns as she checks the number. “I’ve really got to take this phone call,” she says while grabbing her backpack and getting up from the bench. “It was nice meeting you, Reed. I’ll see you around.” She throws the backpack over her shoulder and walks away.

“Same here.” I smile as she answers the phone and proceeds to call someone “babe” on the other line.

No matter what anyone says, I’m not a procrastinator. Not intentionally. Who am I kidding? I’ve always been this way. I’m not going to change, but I can’t keep putting this off. I rise from the bench and head over to the main building to register for classes.

Because I was early, I didn’t have to wait too long and I got the classes I wanted. I decided on going all out and taking the hard shit up front to get it over with. After thanking my advisor, I head out the door and notice the waiting area is filled with students. I tug my hat over my eyes and run into my little songbird from an hour ago in the hallway. She’s walking arm in arm with some tall blonde guy. He’s got tattoos covering his right arm and a guitar slung over his right shoulder.

“Hey,” she says with that same harmonious voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yep, I got my stuff done early.” I smirk.

“I see that.” She peeks in and grimaces because the waiting area is packed.

“Good luck with that,” I reply, glancing over my shoulder.

“No worries. It gives me time to write my music.” She squeezes the guy’s arm next to her. “By the way, this is my boyfriend Link.”

“What’s up?” I say, extending my hand to him. “You go here?”

“No, I just came by to keep this pain in the ass company.” He laughs and swiftly moves out of the way to avoid her punch.

“Link plays in a band. You should check them out sometime.” She recovers and looks back up at me.