“It’s like the Titanic,” I explained. At her blank look, I elaborated. “On the surface, the iceberg doesn’t look that bad. It’s all the shit that’s below the water that’s the trouble.”
“That’s actually a really good metaphor.” She grinned. “I’m kind of impressed.”
I flicked my hair out of my eyes and grinned. “Yeah? Chicks dig metaphors, right?”
“This chick does.”
I was suddenly all too aware of the hand that was still on my knee. I ran my fingertips up her arm, and she shivered. In a good way.
In a way that I’d like to see a lot more of.
She sucked in one side of her lower lip and bit it, and I almost groaned. It was so fucking sexy. Her gaze was on my mouth, and all I had to do was lean forward.
Something stopped me, though. Bri wasn’t just any chick. I wouldn’t be content to hook up for a few weeks and move on. I already cared about her way more than I’d ever cared about anyone before.
I waited for the fear—and the flight instinct—to kick in. But it didn’t. I could stop and overanalyze that, but I wasn’t the analysis type. I knew in my gut Bri was right for me, and I was just going to go with it. I’d always trusted my instincts, and I saw no reason not to now.
And instinct told me she was still fragile.
I ran my thumb over her lower lip. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
Her eyes widened in surprise, and her teeth released her lower lip.
“Josh! Bri!” Laura called. “Dinner!”
I stood and pulled her to her feet. “Despite my stepmother’s shortcomings”—Bri frowned at that—“she’s actually a really good cook.”
“Where’s the bathroom?” she asked. “I want to wash my hands before dinner.”
I pointed her in the right direction and headed downstairs. She could find her way when she was done, and besides, it was creepy to wait outside like I was trying to listen or something.
Laura was putting out a basket of garlic bread when I stepped into the dining room. She smiled at me. “Josh, I’m so glad you came. I know it must be difficult to get away in the middle of the semester like this.”
“Not really.” I lowered myself into my usual chair. “It’s not like I actually do anything anyway.”
She sighed. “You must do something or you would have flunked out by now.”
Oh, if you only knew. No way in hell was I telling them about being on academic probation. Maybe coming home was a good idea after all. It reminded me what I was risking. I wouldn’t survive one week living here.
Mackenzie skipped into the room and pulled out the heavy chair in the space across from me. She hopped into it and sat on her knees.
“My cake is going to have Elsa and Anna and Olaf on it. At first it was only going to have Elsa and Anna, but then I said to Mommy…I said, ‘Mommy, Daddy and Josh need Olaf on the cake so it can also be a boy cake.’ Olaf is a boy. He’s a snowman.” Mackenzie looked up at me with her big blue eyes, expecting me to say something.
“Really?” I said. “Is there a girl snowman?”
“No.” She giggled. “That’s just silly. A snowman can’t be a girl.”
I chuckled. “Good point. I guess that would make it a snow-woman.”
Mackenzie wasn’t dumb, I’d give her that. I just hoped she liked school more than I did, for her own sake.
“Where’s your friend?” she asked.
“She’s washing her hands.” I paused. “Did you wash your hands?”
“Probably not,” Laura said.
Mackenzie jumped off the chair. “Oops! I forgot.”
Laura held out her hand. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
Just as they left the room, my dad and Bri came in. She hesitated for a moment before taking the chair next to me.
“It smells delicious,” she said.
My dad sat at the head of the table. He patted his stomach. “Before Laura I was about twenty pounds lighter.”
I looked at him and tried to remember him back then. They’d dated awhile before they got married, so she’d been around for about ten years. When they first got together, it was great. He was happy all the time and left me the hell alone for once. The longer they were together, the more he returned to riding my ass. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy with her anymore. It was just a different kind of happy, like a settled-in happy. The kind of happy that left time for getting on my case.
“It’s a good thing I’ll only be here for the weekend, then,” Bri said with a smile. “Josh tells me you work with computers?”
I gave her a sidelong glance. I didn’t tell her that. It was true, but I never talked about my family if I could help it. I saw what she was doing though, making it look like I did. Very sneaky, Ms. Welch.
“I run the IT department at a financial firm. It’s actually pretty boring.” He chuckled. “But it’s steady, and in this economy, that’s important.”
Bri nodded. “There’s a growing demand for technical jobs, so I encourage students to go that route if they have any interest in it. Healthcare is another field with strong growth potential.”
Laura and Mackenzie quietly came in while Bri was talking and took their seats.
My dad shook his head and smiled, amazed at her words. “I keep telling Josh the same thing, but of course he doesn’t listen. Maybe he’ll listen to you, though.”
I almost snorted. Not likely. And by the way, Dad, I’m right here. Fuck. He talked about me like I was twelve.
“Let’s get started,” Laura said. “Bri, would you start passing the salad? I’ll serve the lasagna if you’ll pass your plates.”
Conversation halted while the food was served. Once we were all settled, Laura cleared her throat once, then again.
She smiled serenely at my dad, then took a sip of water.
“So, Josh,” my dad started. “What else is going on? Are you still in Beta Pi?”
“It’s Beta Chi, Dad, and yes, I’m still in it. I’ve lived in the house for the last two years.”
“We’ve never seen the house,” Laura commented. “Maybe we can come visit for the next parents’ weekend.”
“I wouldn’t mind going to a football game,” Dad said. Laura gave him a little nod and a smile of encouragement.
I stuffed a forkful of salad in my mouth to keep myself from saying something I shouldn’t. I got it. She was making him try to show an interest in something other than how many ways I’d fucked up this time.
News flash, Mom. His being nice for once doesn’t mean jack if you’re making him do it.
“The campus is beautiful in the fall,” Bri said. “It’s definitely worth a visit for that alone.”
“Then it’s settled,” Laura said, a little too brightly. “We’ll make a visit in the fall. Josh, you’ll have to let us know what would be a good game to go to.”
My dad clutched his fork, and for once we had something in common—we were both nearly gagging at this bullshit scheme Laura had concocted. He didn’t want to spend time with me any more than I wanted to spend time with him.
…
Bri
I lay on Josh’s bed, using a pillow to prop me up. A student’s file was open on my lap.
“Are you sure it’s okay for us to be in here?” I glanced at the closed door.
“Relax. I’m twenty-one, not twelve.” Josh was lying on his back at the foot of his bed, throwing a stress ball in the air over and over again. He’d be better off if he used the darn thing like he was supposed to. Then again, he’d probably squeeze it into a pulp like it was an orange.
I turned back to the file and made a few notes before closing it. I yawned. “I don’t think I can do anything else tonight.”
“Your plan to save that student’s academic future is complete?”
I smacked him on the head with the folder and made a face. “Smart-ass.”
“That’s the second time today you’ve cursed. I’m a bad influence.” He flashed a wicked grin, the lock of ha
ir falling over his forehead, as it always seemed to when he flashed that grin. He looked equal parts mischievous boy and devious man.
It was the second part I was worried about.
“Don’t sound so happy about it,” I said, stuffing the folder into my backpack. I normally didn’t like to review files when anyone else was around, for confidentiality reasons, but this was the lesser of two evils. I wanted to be ready for my appointments on Monday.
God, it would be weird meeting with Josh at the office after this.
“It’s not a bad thing. Everyone needs a little mischief in their life every once in a while. You can’t always be good.”
I puffed out my cheeks. “Why not?”
“Don’t you get tired of it?”
I shrugged. “Not really.”
Growing up, I tried so hard to be good. Maybe if I was good, I could stay in one place and stop being the new girl every year. It would have been nice not to have to make new friends five years in a row. Even though I stayed in the Virginia Beach area while I was in foster care, I somehow always managed to end up in a new school district whenever I switched homes.
It took me until I was a teenager to realize that me being good had nothing to do with being moved around. That was just how the system worked. But by then, it was already ingrained in me, and deep down I always worried that Frank and Marie would send me away if I was bad, even after they’d legally adopted me.
In a word, I was a model child. True, I had trouble in school, but not because I didn’t try. I remember sobbing over the Cs on my report cards, even though no adult batted an eye about them. When I was twelve, I was finally diagnosed with mild dyslexia. Once I learned proper strategies for dealing with it, my grades improved dramatically. I still had to work my tail off, but it was worth it. My current status was proof of that.
I lay back on the pillows and considered pulling out a textbook, then decided against it. I was done for the night. Anything I read I’d probably just have to reread again tomorrow anyway. When I was tired, I didn’t retain much, and my dyslexia was worse.
Across the room were two guitars sitting in stands, a black acoustic one and a red electric one. “Are those yours?” I asked.
“This is my room,” he answered in that smart-ass tone of his. Once it would have annoyed me, but now I was used to it. Plus, it wasn’t the smartest question I’d ever asked.
“Do you play?” I asked then held up my hand to stop him before he could get out another smart comment. “Of course you do. Why would you have two guitars otherwise?”
And there was that whole thing with him falling off the roof over a missing guitar pick. I still hadn’t heard the whole story behind that one.
He remained silent for a moment then grinned. “I assume that’s a rhetorical question.”
“All right, smart-ass.”
He grabbed my wrist and held it with his fingers.
I stilled. “What are you doing?”
“Checking for a pulse. That’s the third curse today. You must be sick or something.”
“I’ve got a fever,” I said in my best Christopher Walken voice, “and the only prescription—”
“Is more cowbell,” Josh finished with a chuckle. “That’s classic SNL. Nice.”
I shrugged. “My dad has been watching SNL forever. Literally forever, like since the show started in the seventies.” I crossed the room to the guitars and picked up the black one, pulling the pick out from where it had been wedged between the strings.
“I’ve only seen a few episodes, but that was one of them.” Josh said, sitting up straighter and watching me handle the guitar, like an overprotective mother watches her toddler at the playground. Interesting.
It had a strap on it, so I put it around my neck and played the only chord I knew—E.
The sound that resulted was definitely not an E. I looked down at my fingers, trying to remember if I had the position right.
“It’s really out of tune,” Josh said. “Give it here, and I’ll tune it for you.”
I slipped the strap over my neck and handed him the guitar. He held it up to his mouth and blew the dust off it, then ran his hand down the neck like he was greeting an old friend…or lover. He expertly turned the pegs, plucking the chords one at a time until he was satisfied with the sound.
He handed it back to me, an expectant look on his face. “Go ahead.”
I settled the guitar in my lap and placed my left hand on the fretboard. “E,” I sang in a wobbly voice as I strummed. “E!” I sang again.
Josh laughed. “That’s it?”
I shrugged. “It’s all I know. Can you do better?”
“Mackenzie down the hall can do better.” At my disbelieving expression, he laughed. “Seriously. She knows two chords.”
“All right, hot shot,” I said. “Show me what you got.”
He plucked the guitar out of my hands, and as soon as he turned it around, he started playing the opening to “Stairway to Heaven.”
“Impressive,” I said.
“Not really,” he replied and started strumming some basic chords. “It’s just what everyone wants to learn as soon as they start playing. I was no different.”
“How long did you take lessons?”
“I didn’t.”
“Wow, really? You’re self-taught?”
“It’s not that hard.”
He started playing some louder, harder chords that I recognized as the beginning of “Little Lion Man.” Then he closed his eyes and played a song that involved a lot of complex, fast plucking. I didn’t recognize it.
He continued to play with his eyes closed and his head bent slightly so that his hair fell over his forehead. He was into it, like he was feeling the music or something.
I thought I liked and appreciated music as much as the next person, but I was wrong. Josh was one with that guitar. The music flowed through him.
He stopped after about a minute and opened his eyes. I almost wondered if he’d forgotten I was there. He didn’t just play music—he experienced it.
“What was that?” I asked.
“‘Dust in the Wind,’” he said. “By Kansas.”
“It was beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said simply and crossed the room to return the guitar to its stand. He sat back down and put his hands between his knees.
Bashful. That’s what he was right now—bashful. This was such a different side of him than he normally showed. I wanted to tease him about it, but I was scared he’d lock it away and I would never see it again.
I liked Bashful Josh.
“You have a gift,” I said.
He laughed, and the peaceful expression that had adorned his face while he played fully dissipated. “I’m good, but I wouldn’t go that far.”
“I would,” I said slowly. “I don’t know much about music, but even I can tell you’re gifted. Do you write your own music?”
“No,” he said, but his brief hesitation told me he was lying.
I left it alone, even though I really wanted to know more about it. “Have you considered majoring in music?”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure my dad would approve of that.”
“You could be a music teacher.”
He looked me in the eye. “Can you really see me teaching elementary kids to sing ‘Kumbaya’?”
I laughed. “On second thought, maybe not. I’ve never worked with any music majors, so I don’t know much about the field and what else you can do with a music degree. I can look into it, though.”
“Don’t bother. Music isn’t a realistic option. Don’t you remember the conversation from dinner?” He was getting agitated, and I regretted the turn the conversation had taken.
“You should do what makes you happy,” I said simply, leaving it at that. I wasn’t here as his counselor this weekend—I was here as his friend. That didn’t mean I was going to let this go, though. I made a mental note to put something in his file.
I’d have to hand it o
ff to his next counselor. Our relationship had gotten too complex for me to continue. While I liked to be friendly with the students I worked with, we’d gone way beyond friendly. I’d lost my objectivity.
“Get up,” Josh said suddenly. “Put your coat on. We’re going out.”
I didn’t move. “Out where? It’s almost ten.” I stopped. “Wow. Even I know that makes me sound lame. But seriously, your sister’s party is tomorrow. We should get some sleep.”
“I don’t think I need much rest to be able to handle a Disney Princess birthday party.”
“Have you ever been around ten five-year-old girls?”
“Have you?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I hear it’s exhausting.”
“Stop stalling.” He tossed one of my shoes into my lap. I wasn’t getting out of this one.
Here we go.
Chapter Fifteen
Josh
I tightened the black vest on Bri’s shoulders, then pulled out my gun and blasted her in the chest.
She jumped, her eyes wide as the red lights started blinking and the sensors vibrated. “That feels so weird.”
I grinned. “You’d better get used to it, sweetheart.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of being cocky?”
“Nope. So the object of the game is—”
“I know how to play laser tag.”
“Have you ever played?”
“No,” she said, adjusting the vest, “but how hard can it be? Point, aim, and fire, right?”
I laughed. “You’re going down.”
The game moderator came into the arena to announce we were about to start. I rocked back on my heels and jogged in place, taking a few jabs in the air with my fists.
Bri laughed. “We’re not boxing.”
I sang the first line of the Rocky theme song, then playfully tapped her on the face. I realized my mistake right as I pulled my fist down, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Nice one, jackass. Her eye had just returned to normal, and I was pretending to hit her. Smooth.
“Sayonara, sucka,” she said. With a final grin, she ran off to hide behind a barricade. The clock was counting down the final seconds until our game went active, so I trotted off to find a strategic position. I pulled myself on top of a platform and crouched down behind the black sheet that had been hung in front of it.
Wanting More (Love on Campus #2) Page 14