The Beat Between Us: A Rock Star Redemption Romance (The Heartbeat Series Book 1)

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The Beat Between Us: A Rock Star Redemption Romance (The Heartbeat Series Book 1) Page 7

by Ellie Meadows


  Course, the people had been perfect strangers who just happened to be smiling in my direction.

  People deceive all the time that way—virtual social interactions give that sort of freedom. Angle the camera six inches up and away? You’ve lost twenty pounds and people will compliment you on it. Rough patch with the significant other? Take a ‘Netflix and chill’ selfie, smile while the flash pops, then go back to opposite ends of the couch, and opposite ends of the Earth (for all intents and purposes).

  Mom had responded with a heart face emoji and a picture of her with arms around dad’s neck, whilst he napped in his Lazy-Boy (a typical Sunday sight, even when I was a kid).

  When my coffee ran out, I hit the taco truck near the college for lunch. Then I walked some more, ducking into a few of the shops and acting friendly with familiar faces. Honestly, the whole morning and early afternoon had taken the absolute piss out of me. It was more ‘out and about’ than I’d done in a long time. I wasn’t sure if it was actually better for me than staying at home and being alone.

  Getting another coffee had just been a new way to fill the time before I headed back to my bed and my solitude. If the gym had been open on Sunday, maybe I’d have gone there instead as a last resort.

  But Bernie had told me not to be a stranger and to come more often. I thought going again, in the same day, would stick it to him.

  Then he’d moved and revealed her sitting in the corner, an array of food in front of her. She’d looked pale, different than she had at the bar. Or that could have been the lighting. Despite the pallor of her skin, I could tell she had faint touches of a tan. I wondered where she hailed from. She didn’t scream North Carolina at all.

  She looked at me with wide doe eyes. From the distance between us, I couldn’t tell if they were blue or green, or maybe a mix of the two. Her hair was loose today, bedhead messy, which was more attractive even than the loose country-style braid she’d worn last night.

  I wanted to smile at her, walk over and introduce myself, but her eyes darted down to her food and she picked at her pretzel. I wanted her to look back at me, but she didn’t, so I moved to where Bernie waited. He was wearing his ‘you got gossip for me?’ face, and I shook my head at him, rolling my eyes when he feigned disappointment.

  “Just make me a coffee, Bern.” I pointed at all the espresso and frothing and whatever-else contraptions.

  The big man glanced at the girl in the corner, then shrugged. “You got it, boss.” He moved around, always so light on his feet despite his size, and moments later I was holding another of my go-to drinks. “Anything else?”

  As soon as I’d gotten my coffee, I’d turned to peek at the girl again. She was still focused on her food, not looking up, obviously not wanting company.

  “Silas, you want anything else?” Bernie spoke a little louder to draw my attention. “Well, this is ridiculous.”

  Before I could turn to stop him, the big man was coming out from behind the counter again and heading towards the girl. I knew exactly what he was doing and I both was glad for it, and pissed.

  “Anna,” Bernie said. The girl looked up, a piece of pretzel gripped between two finger and halfway to her mouth. I was glad he stood to the side this time, so I could see her.

  “Um...” she said quietly. “Yes?”

  “You’re new to town and probably haven’t met many people, right?”

  “Well, I’ve met you. Who else do I need to meet?” The little quip was followed by a small, hesitant smile. Even though timid, the spreading of her lips seemed to freshen her face, bringing more color and life to it.

  “True, true,” Bernie chuckled out. “But, I’d like you to meet one of my good friends anyways.”

  I was surprised when Bernie used ‘good friends’. We knew each other, joked with each other, but I wouldn’t consider us that close. Maybe because I kept my walls up, kept a guard on things like that. Didn’t want to get too close to people, even those I really liked.

  “Okay.” She nodded slowly and put down the food. When she stood, I realized how petite she was. I hadn’t noticed that last night, since she’d been mostly on the floor or leaning against her friend. She walked past Bernie and towards me, and I couldn’t stop looking at her. She was nothing like Asher. Nothing like the last person I’d loved. But there was something about her that drew me, just the way he had.

  When she was directly in front of me, she held out her hand, flexing her fingers a few times like she wasn’t sure she wanted me to touch her. Her eyes widened a little as she looked at me. Then recognition seemed to wash over her face like ocean waves.

  I took it tentatively. We didn’t shake. Instead we just held each other’s grip for a moment. She let go first and I realized that maybe I should have let go, instead of standing frozen like an idiot caught up in emotions I hadn’t felt in a long damn time. They were more intense right now, more world-tilting.

  “I’m Anna,” she said after we’d let go of one another. “Though, I think Nat told you my name maybe?”

  “Silas,” I tried to sound firm and masculine, but my voice was low and brooding instead.

  Bernie walked over and looked at us both, seeming confused that we were acting familiar, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he walked back to the counter... to eavesdrop, no doubt.

  “It’s really nice to properly meet you. I mean, standing up and all.” She bit her bottom lip and the sight sent a little electric bolt through me, from toes to scalp.

  “You seemed fairly confident in yourself, even barely conscious on the ground.” I tried to smile, but it felt more like a smirk. That wasn’t what I was going for at all. I didn’t want to appear cocky and like I was trying to be cool. I wanted to connect, really connect with another person, in a way I never thought I’d want again. “I mean, what I’m trying to say is you still held your own, despite the situation.”

  “Well, I’m pretty used to blacking out and then meeting new people while I’m still fog brained,” she said the words carefully, nodding slowly, as if the situation last night at the bar was something old hat for her, rather than a first-time thing as I imagined it was.

  “I could tell,” I also nodded, this time a genuine, warm smile spreading my lips. She nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, though the strands were so long that they wouldn’t remain tamed for long, so loosely constrained. “I wasn’t even going to come out today,” I said, speaking before deciding if I actually wanted to admit to the thing. Before I could say anything to qualify my homebody-tendency confession, she spoke again, a little too fast and a little too breathy. A fact that gave me some meager hope that my reaction to her was perhaps not one-sided.

  “I’m glad you decided to come to town then. I mean,” she hesitated, going to bite her lip, but then stopping herself as if it’s a habit she’s trying to break. I don’t want her to kill that habit; it, unlike many of my own, is a good one. “I didn’t really thank you last night. In fact, I know I was somewhat rude. And I’m sorry for that. I’m not usually like that.”

  “It’s okay. You don’t have anything to thank me for. It’s sort of my job to help people in distress. I would have done it for anyone.” I stuck my hands in my pockets and rocked back and forth slightly. “Not that you’re just anyone.”

  “I am, actually. Basically a stranger. So, last night you were doing your job.” She started messing with her hair now, another nervous tick maybe.

  “But now I’m not.” Again, I spoke quickly, without care for how I was exposing myself. I wanted her to know in this moment, more than anything, that I wasn’t standing here talking to her out of some sense of duty or obligation. I wasn’t being a paramedic right now. I was being a man, talking to a beautiful girl. For no other reason than I simply wanted to.

  “Now you’re not.” Her saying the words seemed to soften everything about her, yet at the same time I saw walls rise in her eyes. Something about the situation was making her uncomfortable, despite that she was glad that our interact
ion was more than medical interest. “It was really nice to meet you officially and thank you properly. I need to eat and get back to my dorm.”

  “Right, I understand. I’m sorry to have kept you so long.” For the first time since seeing her again, I felt a bit crestfallen. A bit doubtful that she reciprocated the blossoming something in my chest and gut that told me I needed to know her better.

  “You didn’t keep me, really. It’s been a long day. Tours and book-buying. And tomorrow’s my first day of class. So I need to organize things and pack my bag and...” her voice trailed off. “I know it sounds ‘goody two shoes’ of me.”

  “That you want to do well in school? Hardly.”

  “I guess you must have been pretty dedicated. To end up a paramedic. Did you like school?” She seemed genuinely interested and I hated to disappoint her, but I also wasn’t going to put on false airs. I wasn’t going to lie and misrepresent myself.

  “Honestly, no. I’ve never been a fan. I went to college for a while, then I left for... personal reasons. Coming back to school was like pulling teeth. I had to though, to make a fresh start. I was able to use my old credits and get through things pretty fast. Which was good.” I sighed, not really wanting to continue, but feeling like I had to get it all out now or never. “I don’t think I would have finished if I couldn’t have finished fast. I’ve never been great with the hard stuff, the stuff that takes real effort. Easy things were always addicting.”

  “I get that,” she said, but I had a feeling she didn’t get it, not even a little bit. I was staring at her and I could see she’d dealt with hard shit all her life. And easy? Well, easy would be too good to be true.

  We stood there for a while, awkwardly looking at one another. I finally spoke to break the silence. “You eat. I’ve talked and kept you even longer.”

  “In your defense, I prompted you.” She held out her hand again. I took it after only a second’s hesitation. “It really was nice to meet you.”

  I wondered if she felt the electricity coursing from her fingers to mine. I wondered if it made her heart jumpstart, though it wasn’t stalled. Which is an altogether strange and breath-stealing sensation.

  “I hope to see you around.” I said, letting go of her hand, flexing my fingers at my side and not wanting the feeling of touching her to fade.

  “Me too.” She blushed. “I mean, but me see you. Around.” She started to turn away from me to go back to her table, where her pretzel was now undoubtedly cold—like the coffee I’d been clutching in one hand ever since our introduction—and her salad warm. She turned back to face me though, almost immediately. “If I had a phone number or anything, I would offer it. I just don’t.”

  “I have a phone number,” I remarked, stupidly.

  “That’s nice,” she blushed deeper. She started turning again and I, like a moron, realized how I should have followed up the ‘I have a phone number’ remark.

  “Mind if I write it down for you? In case you ever need anything. I mean, you might know people nearby, though.” I stood awkwardly, hands shoved as deeply into my pockets as possible.

  “I don’t know anyone here.” She rushed the words out in one breath.

  “Great,” I said, and then realized it sounded like I was happy that she was alone in a new town. “Not great that you don’t know anyone, but I’m glad that having my contact info might be helpful.” I stopped myself before I could talk any more. “Bernie, you got any paper?” I half-mumbled as I turned around. When I did, I found the large man staring at us, both elbows on the countertop, a stupid grin on his face. I gave him a ‘seriously?’ expression and walked forward.

  He stood up from the counter, at least six inches taller than me and still looking as pleased with himself as any person possibly could be. He didn’t say anything to me, just kept smiling like the damn Cheshire cat. “Bernie!” I nearly shouted, using my coffee-free hand to snap my fingers at his chest level.

  “What,” he said at normal voice level, not a care in the world.

  “Paper, Bernie. Do you have paper and a pen?”

  “Sure thing, Silas,” he said, affecting a musical tone. He hummed his way over to the register and pressed the receipt button to whirl out six inches or so of unprinted paper. Then he grabbed one of the cheap black stick pens from the glass vase half-filled with aquarium rocks to keep it upright. I’d forgotten it was there in my anxiety over talking with Anna.

  Quickly, I wrote down my cell number, my home number, and then—though I thought it was overkill—my email address, which I rarely gave out. When I handed the pen back to Bernie, he crossed his arms over his chest, but didn’t say anything else. Not that he needed to, while he wore the too-giant grin across his too-giant face. I rolled my eyes at him and walked back to Anna. She was sitting, eating slowly and swirling her coffee around.

  “Here. If you need anything at all, don’t hesitate.” I sat the slip of paper down on her table. She used two long, slender fingers to pull it towards her.

  “Thank you. For everything.” She folded the paper and tucked it into her purse.

  “No problem. Bye, Anna.”

  “Bye, Silas.”

  As I walked out, cold coffee still gripped firmly in my hand, I passed the other two patrons, still there, still working on their computers busily. Yet they both looked up to give me small smiles as I moved out of the café. Like they knew this was a big step for me.

  A giant step for me, actually.

  Though I was trying to ignore the magnitude of what it all meant.

  Anna.

  I’d been lying in bed for over an hour staring at his handwriting.

  That was stupid, right? I’d been free for a heartbeat; I’d been at the university for even less than that, yet I was letting a guy—a guy obviously too old for me—get under my skin.

  I don’t want to like someone right now. I’m not... unbroken enough for that. Not yet. And I’ve got more baggage than the lost and found at an airport. I couldn’t ask anyone to take that on, especially since I could barely handle it for myself at the moment.

  What would I say on a first date?

  Hi again. Nice to see you again. We’ve got a few months before I’m obviously pregnant. That okay with you? It’ll be nice while it lasts. Probably.

  Pregnant, you ask? Yeah. Do I need to explain the logistics to you.

  How, you ask?

  No.

  No. Goddammit.

  I closed my eyes tightly, letting my hand that was holding the note fall down; it hung over the bed, hovered over the floor. As the first tears began to fall—a rain I couldn’t stop, couldn’t control. Salty and hot and chest-tightening—I loosened my grip and let Silas’s information fall towards the floor.

  It landed so quietly that it made no sound. Just like me, crying silently in the dark, with no one listening anyways. No one interested in saving me.

  No matter what Silas had said about calling him for anything, for whatever I needed. No matter what his handwriting promised.

  I REMEMBERED TO SET my alarm this time, though I’d nearly cried myself to sleep and buggered it up again. I woke up way earlier than necessary and had the coed bathroom to myself as I showered. It was peaceful, relaxing. Though I was glad that each shower stall and bathroom stall had their own individual locks. Otherwise, I might have been showered in memories rather than water.

  I took the time to brush my hair and braid it down my back so it would stay out of my face during class. That always seemed... more studious looking, not to mention infinitely more practical.

  My backpack was heavy once I’d loaded it up with my first day’s books and supplies. I wondered if that was okay for the baby. Don’t be stupid. I reprimanded myself. Women work until delivery. They haul water back and forth from villages while hugely pregnant. You can carry a heavy backpack.

  Though I’d given myself a forceful talking-to, I knew I needed to look for a doctor or clinic, somewhere that would take my school insurance. I could, of course, go to
the actual school medical facility, but I wasn’t sure if my information would be truly confidential. If they thought I was in trouble, or in need of counseling, would patient privilege stand? Or, would the next appointment I had be in the Dean’s office talking over my options as a soon-to-be mother and how that would affect my enrollment.

  No, an outside facility. Just in case.

  The air was slightly cool as I walked outside and headed towards the cafeteria, grateful again that I had a food plan included with my academic scholarship. When I entered, I was assaulted by good smells that made my mouth water. I’d expected everything to be subpar, like high school had been, but no.

  There was an omelet bar where you could pick your fixings. A cereal cache so large that I’d not be surprised if they had every type available to man. There was an entire line of pans filled with breakfast meats. The sight of the bacon sent my hunger into overdrive and I bee-lined for those pans, taking a ridiculous portion of bacon and even a few sausage links.

  After that, I settled on fresh fruits and oatmeal. Something healthy, I rationalized, to balance out all of the artery-clogging meats. After grabbing some orange juice, I headed to a table that was close to the tall windows. Early sunlight poured in, bathing everything in a pretty, warm paleness.

  The pineapple was fresh. Not like... out of a can that had cooled in the fridge ‘fresh’, but real off the tree, freshly peeled and cut, ‘fresh’. I’d never had it like that before. My taste-buds were used to the diluted flavor of the canned variety, where all the goodness had seeped into the actual juice—which I never got, but was reserved for alcohol mixes for my mom and stepdad.

  The porridge was hot and thick and I used a little half and half to dilute it, along with a small bit of brown sugar that was available on the several condiment carts littering the cafeteria.

 

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