“Hey, man, cut her some slack. We haven’t started yet. I’m just having some fun.”
Sydney’s mouth dried. Now everyone stared, wondering what was going on. She wanted to tell Hunter to go away, that she didn’t need him to defend her, but the damage was already done. Anything she said would only make it worse.
“Have fun on your own time.”
Hunter stepped closer and although she couldn’t hear what he said, she knew it couldn’t be good. Heated words were exchanged and the crowd around her seemed to lean forward en masse to hear. Not her. She didn’t want to know. She wanted to slink away without being noticed.
Then Hunter stepped back, pointed at her, and said loud enough for everyone to hear, “You don’t even know how good she is because your head is so far up your ass.”
“You run your section your way. Leave my people to me.”
Oh God. Her stomach revolted and her Cheerios threatened a return trip. The bandleader called everyone to their spots, forcing Hunter and Daniel apart. He eyed the two of them, but didn’t ask questions. As he took his place, Daniel glared at her. He didn’t like being questioned. She’d learned that early on. All she wanted to do was keep her head down and finish school.
Practice was a mess. She couldn’t stop thinking about Hunter, and not in a good way. Why the hell had he said anything? When she told him to play “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” she figured he’d give up. Having him actually play it, knowing he learned it for her, made her warm and tingly. But sticking his nose in the drum line pissed her off. Now everyone thought they were together.
That she was one of his girls who couldn’t help but fall for him.
Ha! Fat chance of that happening. She’d learned her lesson about guys like him. She’d already lost too much time trying to fix her life and create a new reputation for herself.
She might not be seen as the campus sweetheart, but she also wouldn’t be considered the band slut.
As soon as practice ended, she ran off the field. Daniel would most likely want an additional practice today, especially since she was offbeat several times. She knew the drill and the music, but she’d been flustered by the whole scene with Hunter. She’d be better off practicing alone.
She needed to blow off steam, and she had an hour until class. Moving straight to the practice rooms, she hoped, since it was still early, that she’d find an empty space. She ducked into the first free room with a drum set and sat down. After a quick warm-up, she slid right into one of her favorite songs: “Bad Reputation.”
Halfway through, the door swung open. She hadn’t checked the sign-up, so a sinking feeling hit her that she might have to leave. But Hunter strode through the door, an easy smile creasing his face.
She wanted to jab him with her drumstick. How could he smile at her like that after the trouble he’d caused? She fought the urge to throw a stick at him and continued to play. By the time she’d finished, her muscles were warm and her jaw hurt from being clenched.
Hunter stayed, leaning against the door, watching her every movement.
“What do you want?” she asked as she reached into her bag for a bottle of water.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked upset after practice.”
“I’m fine.”
He studied her face while she gulped water.
“No you’re not. Now you’re pissed again.”
She glared at him.
“What did I do?”
She pressed her toes into the floor to stop herself from running at him. “I don’t need you defending me to Daniel or anyone else.”
“Daniel’s a prick. I was trying to get him to lighten up.”
“Then why bring me into it at all? You singled me out in front of everyone.”
“You said yourself he never gives you a chance.”
He stepped away from the door. If he had any inkling of the anger vibrating through her, he offered no sign. He sauntered closer, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“First, it’s not your problem. Second, did you really think you could change anything?”
He shrugged, which infuriated her more. He liked to stir up trouble and sit back and watch.
“Go away, Tenor.”
“Hunter. My name’s Hunter.”
She knew but didn’t want to care. He was within touching range now, and the tension between them was palpable. She raised an eyebrow to convey her indifference as she tried to ignore the electrified air bouncing between them.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Your timing sucks.”
“You’re not the first person to say that.” He turned a huge grin on her. “In my defense, I was trying to be nice out there, not piss you off.”
She grunted at him, determined not to be swayed by the smile.
“I want you to teach me to play drums.” He fingered the edge of the floor tom.
“You know how to play. I’ve heard you.”
“I can wing it. I have a good ear, but I want to be able to really play.”
“I’m no teacher.” She gulped the rest of her water. She’d never thought about lessons, but it might be a way to make money.
“But you’re good.”
“So is everyone else on the drum line.”
“But I like you.”
She snorted. “You like everyone.”
There was the careless shrug again. “You in?”
“What’s in it for me?”
He leaned over the crash cymbal. “What do you want?”
He asked like it was a dirty little secret and it made her blood rush in ways it shouldn’t. She couldn’t afford to be attracted to someone like him, someone who wanted all the attention on him, someone who would make everyone stare at her like he had this morning.
“Nothing from you.”
He rocked back on his heels and nodded his head slowly. “How about a paying gig?”
“You’re going to pay me to teach you?”
“No. But my band has a regular gig on the weekends and my drummer is going home for the holidays. Unless you’re going somewhere?”
Her resolve to avoid Hunter began to dissolve like ice under rock salt. He offered the one thing she needed: experience with a band. She’d failed at putting together her own band numerous times, mostly because she expected too much from people or she rubbed them the wrong way.
She bit her lip. If she took this deal, she would be spending her entire break with Hunter. They would have band practice together and private lessons and work on the weekends. Hitching her chin up, she asked, “What kind of music?”
“Mostly covers of classic rock.”
Her heart sped. It seemed too good to be true. “How often does your band practice and how many lessons are you looking for?”
He started to shrug, but then seemed to think better of it. “My guy, Kevin, won’t be leaving until after finals, but I think you should jump in early, if it suits your schedule. We usually practice two or three days a week.” The corner of his mouth flicked up again. “I’m ready to start lessons immediately.”
“I need to think about it. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Don’t take too long, though. I’m gonna need a replacement for Kevin.”
Then he spun on his heel and walked out. Sydney released air from deep in her lungs. Something about that guy did things to her and she didn’t like it. Flirting with him on the field had been a mistake. She saw that now, regardless of what Emma had said. What would happen if she agreed to spend more time with him? Rumors would definitely start flying.
She slung her bag over her shoulder to go to class. Hunter had already taken up enough space in her head for one day.
Hunter walked into the apartment near midnight. “Adam?” No response. Where the hell could Adam be? It wasn’t like he had a social life. Hunter had just gotten off from a night at Andy’s Jazz Club. He loved playing there more than anything, so when he was asked to work an extra night tomorrow to fill in, he jumped a
t the chance. Great musicians surrounded him there, and he always learned something new. The passion they displayed had made him think of Sydney in the practice room.
He flipped on lights as he walked through the apartment and went to the kitchen. He kicked off his shoes under the table before reaching into the cabinet for some cereal. He shook the box. Damn, it was light. If he ate this now, he wouldn’t have enough for breakfast. Then again, if he slept in, he wouldn’t need breakfast. Satisfied with his decision, he sat at the table and scooped a handful of cereal into his mouth. A few flakes hit the table.
The front door opened and closed. “Hey,” Hunter called.
A minute later, Adam stood behind him. “At least you’re not spilling on the floor this time. Why can’t you make a bowl like a normal person?”
“Then I’d have to clean the bowl. This way, I don’t dirty anything.”
Adam rolled his eyes and reached into the refrigerator for a beer. He held one out to Hunter. Hunter accepted it, even though he wasn’t really in the mood for one. If Adam was offering, something was up. “Where were you tonight?” he asked as he popped the top on the beer.
Adam sank into the chair across from him. “Reese’s apartment working on the comics.”
Hunter sighed. “So you had a whole night alone with a cute girl and you drew pictures.”
“And watched Thor.”
“That’s progress, I suppose.”
“No progress. We’re just friends.”
Hunter leaned forward and studied his roommate. “You act like you’re just friends. You keep saying that, but that’s not what you want. Did she shoot you down?”
“What? No. We’re working together. That’s it.”
“So that explains why you’re so wound up you need to have a beer after being alone with her.”
“Look. Reese is cute. I’ll give you that. But I’m not into her.”
Hunter slugged back some beer, not enjoying the taste mixed with sugary cereal one bit. “Then you won’t care if I ask her out.”
“You can’t go out with her.”
“Why not? She’s cute and you don’t want her.”
“Because it’d be weird. You going out with my friend. What if she slept over with you? No.”
The look of fear on Adam’s face was worth playing this out. “I can keep it simple. We’ll go back to her place.”
“I’ll be stuck in the middle of a mess when you dump her.”
“Who says I’ll dump her? Maybe she’s the woman to tame me.” Okay, maybe he’d taken it too far.
Adam snorted. “How much have you had to drink? This can’t be your first beer.”
“It is.” He pointed a finger at Adam. “I’m excellent at getting them to break up with me.”
“Fuck you. I don’t want her pissed off at me because of something you did.”
Adam held back pretty well, but Hunter knew his friend. He just needed to press the right button to get him to admit it. “I’ll invite her to the New Year’s party.”
“You are not inviting my friend as your date. Get your own.” Adam chugged the remainder of his beer and tossed the can.
Now they were getting somewhere. Something was definitely bugging him. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I’m going to bed.”
“Hey, man, you know I was just yanking your chain. I have enough of my own prospects. I don’t need to poach.” He immediately thought of Sydney and how pissed off she’d been.
“Yeah, I know.”
“I’m here if you want to talk.”
Adam shook his head and left the room. Hunter poured the rest of his beer down the sink, sacrilege to most guys he knew, but he’d only taken the beer because he thought Adam wanted to talk. Without Adam in the room to distract him, Hunter was left thinking about Sydney again.
The way she’d played in the practice room was awesome. He’d been hesitant to interrupt her, but once he heard the passion in her music, he’d known that she would be an excellent coach for him. He knew the basics and could muddle through, but once he became a teacher, he didn’t want to just muddle through. He wanted to be able to teach any student whatever instrument he or she wanted to learn.
He had a natural ability for picking things up, but there were only so many hours in the day and so many classes he could take. Learning to play drums hadn’t happened, but he knew that as a teacher, he’d encounter plenty of kids who would want to play.
Getting Sydney to teach him would accomplish a lot. He wanted to feed off her energy and love for the instrument. It wasn’t enough for him to go through the motions. He could get that from watching a few videos. Plus, working with her would give him time to convince her to come to the New Year’s Eve party as his date. By then, marching band would be over and he wouldn’t have to worry about any repercussions. She’d be like any other girl he dated.
He scooped another handful of cereal into his mouth and crunched away, drowning out the voice in his head that clearly called him a liar.
Chapter 3
“Come on, Syd, please?” Trish whined from behind the closed bedroom door. “It’s not like you have plans.”
“How would you know if I have plans?”
“Because you haven’t had a date in so long, I can’t even remember. Two years?”
Trish was right. It had been two years since she’d dated. Sydney had put it out of her mind for so long that it hadn’t occurred to her to keep track of the time. Regardless, she had zero desire to double date with her sister and whatever boring guy she’d hooked.
Trish thumped against the door. “I’ll owe you.”
Syd rose and flung the door open. “Why do you need me? Go alone.”
“Jenny was supposed to double date with us, but she’s caught that horrendous flu going around. Dave’s brother is in from out of town and Dave doesn’t want to leave him alone. If I don’t bring someone, he’ll feel like a third wheel.” She pressed her hands together like she was praying.
Syd rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. She never liked any guy her sister dated, so she was sure this one would be a dud, too.
“It’s one night. It’s not like I expect you to fall for the guy. Just talk to him. Have dinner and a couple of drinks. That’s it.”
“Fine, but you owe me big.”
“One more thing,” Trish continued with a slight cringe.
This couldn’t be good.
“We’re going to a club downtown, so you have to dress up. And maybe”—she pointed at Syd’s arms—“cover the tattoos. Tame your hair. This is a nice place, not a college frat party.”
“If I have to make myself look like you, you owe me more than one.”
Trish laughed. “Not like me. Just a bit less like you. A tiny bit. I don’t know how this guy will feel about tats and spiky hair. It’s not like I’m asking you to recolor your hair. A little concealment.” She dashed out of the room, but Sydney didn’t feel like following. Trish returned with one of her dresses. “Wear this.”
Sydney looked at the sweater material. It stretched under her fingers. “Fine. It better be good food and you guys are popping for high-end alcohol.” She winked at her sister. “It’ll help keep me friendly.”
An hour later, Sydney sat in the backseat of Dave’s BMW, the leather cold on the backs of her thighs. Dave’s brother, Ken, sat beside her, staring out the side window. Other than a quiet hello when they picked up Sydney and Trish, he hadn’t spoken another word until they parked.
As they walked down the street behind Trish and Dave, Ken leaned in and said, “I’m sorry about this. Blind dates usually suck. Don’t feel the need to entertain me. I would’ve been fine if Dave left me at home.”
His admission made Syd feel a bit more at ease. She shrugged. “Let’s make the best of it. Dinner and drinks on them.”
“Sounds good.”
They walked into Andy’s, a place Syd had never visited, but Trish and Dave had gone often enough that Sydney felt like she knew what to e
xpect. The interior was dim and a band was already in full swing onstage. As they skirted past tables and toward the rear of the club, Ken placed his hand on the small of Syd’s back. It was a polite gesture, but it did nothing for her.
She sat across from Trish, something Trish maneuvered so she could give Sydney meaningful looks in case Sydney said or did something wrong. Ken sat beside her, and her back was to the stage. They ordered drinks and Trish volunteered suggestions for their meals. Sydney let her do whatever she wanted because the waiter set a twenty-dollar glass of whiskey in front of her.
As she sipped, Sydney allowed the smooth jazz to wash over her, making it easy to tune out the conversation at the table. A swift kick to her shin jolted her attention. Trish stared with wide eyes.
Sydney bit her lip on a smile before saying, “Sorry. I got caught up in the music.” She turned toward Ken. “I’m really into music. Although I’m a graphic design major, that’s my backup plan. I play the drums. I hope to put together a band and start playing for money.”
“No need to apologize. I could sit here and watch your face while you listen. It’s fascinating.”
Her cheeks warmed even though she didn’t fully understand the compliment. She didn’t think her face changed. Ken began telling her about his job—corporate attorney in Philadelphia. She tried to be interested, but the music kept tugging her attention.
After she finished her first drink, she excused herself to go to the bathroom and check out the band on the way. Just as she wound through the tables, the saxophone began a wailing solo, which reminded her of Hunter. She looked up and her heart thudded like a bass drum. Up on the stage Hunter stood front and center, backed by a group of middle-aged men.
Sydney froze and stared. His long hair had been smoothed and combed back neatly, but now fell forward. He looked like the music consumed him, but he loved it. She’d never seen him quite like this. Granted, she’d only seen him play on the field and then he mostly acted like it was a joke. This serious side of Hunter drew her in and made her want to plop down right there on the floor and absorb everything.
Jazz had never been her thing. She’d listened to it before. Any decent musician studied all kinds of music. This was the first time it made her feel something, even though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Slow and languid, almost like he was begging for something. Her heart wrenched at the same time her blood raced. Pieces of the song echoed through her, but she couldn’t name it.
His New Jam Page 2