Practice had never felt like it lasted so long as it had tonight. They practiced their regular set plus a couple of other songs. Sydney sat in on the songs she knew and took notes when she didn’t. Something about watching her scribble in a tiny notebook while her purple-tipped hair flounced around made him want to touch her, mess with her, grab her attention.
Because she wasn’t giving him anything. Other than listening to basic directions, she focused solely on Kevin, which he supposed was good because she was taking over for Kevin, but Hunter half expected her to at least notice him. He wanted her to give him one of those looks she occasionally threw at him when they were on the football field, maybe a cocky wink because she sounded so damn good playing, but again, nothing.
While the other guys packed up their gear, Sydney continued to sit behind the drums. She looked like she was made to sit there. Jay and Kevin both glanced at her and at him like they were waiting for some confirmation that there was something else going on between them. Lance was oblivious, as usual. Hunter said nothing, knowing that if he did, Sydney would be pissed. Pissing her off on their first night together wouldn’t be a smart move.
She shifted on the stool, like she wasn’t sure what she should do while waiting for the guys to leave.
At the door, Jay looked at her. “See you Thursday?”
“Yep.” She gave him one of her rare friendly smiles.
A little ping of jealousy hit Hunter. He wanted one of those smiles for himself instead of the cocky, barely flirtatious ones he usually received. He enjoyed the flirty ones, but he’d never gotten the softer version. He briefly wondered what he’d have to do to earn one.
When the door clicked behind the guys, Hunter asked, “How do you want to start? Want another drink?”
She shook her head. “I’m good.” Standing, she pointed at her bag near the door. “I brought a couple of my old beginner books for you to look at. I don’t know how much you know.”
He dragged a chair closer and sat. “I don’t think I need to start like a six-year-old. I do understand music.”
She puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled. “I told you I’m no teacher.”
“What’s the most important thing for me to know about drums?”
She closed her eyes and tipped her chin up a notch. “Rhythm. Nothing else matters.” She dropped her sticks at her feet and began slapping her thighs.
Her eyes popped open and she nodded at him to follow her lead. He felt silly slapping his legs, like a little girl playing at camp. But then as soon as he thought he had the beat going, she changed the rhythm. It took him a second to adjust, but he did.
After a few minutes, she added a foot stomp in between beats. He continued, but it was pretty damn boring.
Finally, he asked, “What does slapping my hands and stomping my feet have to do with playing the drums? I know how to count off notes and find the beat.”
Her palms smacked her legs one last time and stopped. “The drummer is the heart of the music. It’s not just counting off notes. It’s setting the tone for every piece.” She straightened, and then added, “I get that you’re used to playing with both hands. A lot of people have a hard time coordinating, so you start simple.”
She slapped her right thigh. “Tom one.” She slapped her left. “Tom two.” She stomped her foot. “Bass.”
“So you think when I’m teaching kids, I need to start with patty-cake?”
This time her sigh was pure irritation. “Kids who love the drums will feel the beat. They might instinctively understand rhythm, but you need to be able to explain it to them so they’ll be able to read music. If they’re some kind of savant, they’ll play by ear and never need you, but most kids need some hand holding.”
“Can we assume I am at least at the stage after hand holding? Since I have experience reading and playing music?”
“Of course. I thought you needed help teaching it, not just playing it.”
Damn. She was right. He wouldn’t be able to skip steps with most kids. “Wait. Sorry. You have a point. I thought if I understood how to play, I’d be able to teach it, but clapping like this never would’ve occurred to me.”
She lifted a shoulder. “I’m sure other teachers would help you.”
“How long do I keep up the slapping and stomping?”
“Until they understand the difference between eighth and quarter and sixteenth notes.”
“That might take a while. Kids are impatient.”
“So mix it up. Teach some rhythm. Let them hear and try to figure out the notes when a professional plays. Let them hold the sticks.”
“The sticks?”
“Sticks are cool.” She bent and grabbed hers, twirling one in place.
“That’s the problem. Kids think they can sit down and start right there.”
“Of course. So let ’em try and fail. Then they’ll want you to teach them.”
For the first time in years, nerves took over his body. He wouldn’t be able to sell this. Kids would see right through him.
“Sometimes, you need to give them a taste, so they know what’s coming.”
“Huh?”
“Come here.” She stood and backed away from the stool.
Hunter took her place and she handed him the extra sticks he’d left by the kit. He wrapped his fist around each stick.
Sydney leaned over his shoulder and reached for his hand. She peeled his fingers away and repositioned them. “Grip matters.”
Her sexy whisper skittered across his neck and his dick perked up.
“Not too hard. You’re not choking someone. And not flimsy. Nice and firm.” Her fingers curled over his, warm, smooth, and firm.
He closed his eyes because he could totally imagine her whispering those words while they were naked. His pants were noticeably tighter. He shifted to find some relief and his shoulder connected with a tit. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She might’ve even leaned a little more into him.
“Find your rhythm,” she said and then stepped away.
He stared at the two toms and struck the same beat they’d done against their legs.
“Whoa,” she called.
He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her.
“If you pound away like that, you’re going to do damage to your hands. Best case, some raging blisters. Worst case, tendonitis or carpal tunnel. Loosen your grip.”
Again, her hands came over his and made the motions with him. He should’ve felt like an idiot, but he couldn’t, not with her pressed against his back, her spicy perfume filling his senses. His mouth watered with the thought of tasting her skin.
She continued through a few measures before straightening. This time, he felt her arch her back. Her stomach grazed his arm as he continued to play. He wanted to make her move like that in bed and the picture in his head caused him to miss a beat.
Sydney shoved his shoulder. “That’s enough for today. Don’t you think? Practice basic rhythms, mix it up a little. If you want, we can read some music next time. I’m sure that’ll be easy for you.”
He stood, not wanting her to leave yet. “You want a beer now? Take a little break after all your hard work?”
She rolled her upper lip into her mouth and bit down. She might’ve been trying to hide a smile. At least he hoped so.
“It’s a beer. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”
“A beer would be good.”
And that was the window of opportunity he was looking for. Hunter now knew he’d break down whatever barrier had kept her icy for months. She was at least a little interested in him. He’d worked with less.
Chapter 5
What the hell was she doing? More important, how did Hunter get her to do this? She was supposed to play with the band, give a quick lesson, and leave. Having a beer alone with him wasn’t part of the plan. Then again, neither was touching him or laughing with him and she’d done both in abundance tonight.
It had been easier when the rest of the band ha
d been present, though. Once they left and the drum lesson started, she relaxed a little too much, let her guard slip. And being up close and personal with Hunter stirred things in her she didn’t want stirred.
She followed him back to the kitchen. Sharing a drink there would help keep things cool.
As he reached into the refrigerator, he asked, “So what are your plans after graduation?”
“I don’t graduate until next year.”
He spun with two bottles of beer. “Are you old enough to drink this or am I going to get in trouble for contributing to the delinquency of a minor?”
She snatched the bottle. “I’m old enough. Wanna card me?” She twisted the cap off and took a swig. “I took some time off so I’m a year behind.” Sitting in one of the two chairs at the table, she decided that was enough of an explanation.
“Is that why you don’t want anyone from band to know about our arrangement?”
She nodded. “You’re leaving. A few more practices and a game and you’re done. I have to come back for another year.”
“I won’t be here, so what’s the problem?”
“I’m going to offend you if I say it.”
“I don’t offend easily.”
“You have a reputation for being a man whore. I don’t want anyone looking at me like I’m one of your playthings.” The partial truth dried her throat, so she drank quickly.
For a moment, he said nothing, just watched her with his warm, friendly eyes. He really wasn’t offended.
“Fair enough.” He dragged the other chair closer to her, close enough that his knees almost bumped hers. “Between you and me, I date a lot. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. But I’m far from a man whore.”
She wanted to believe him. She didn’t, but she wanted to, which was a whole level of disturbing she didn’t want to pick apart. “How long have you and the band been together?”
He sat back in the chair, stretching his legs out in front of him, so one passed between hers and settled beneath her chair. “Me, Jay, and Lance have been together since high school. Our drummer took off to California. I met Kevin freshman year.”
“Wow. You guys have been working together since high school?”
“We didn’t actually work back then. We wanted to impress girls. We didn’t start paying jobs until college.”
She turned her bottle in slow circles. “Why not play professionally?”
“We do. We’ll probably continue after graduation, but this is a hobby for us. I want a steady job with a real paycheck. If I had to rely on music to take care of me, I’d probably grow to resent it. Playing wouldn’t be fun anymore. I don’t like to do things that aren’t fun.”
“Huh.” She hadn’t thought about it that way. She couldn’t imagine not loving music.
Hunter leaned forward, bringing his legs back and bracing his elbows on his knees. “What are your plans?”
Her mouth dried once again with his proximity. She’d do much better if he kept his laid-back, I-don’t-need-anything distance. When he leaned close like this, she felt like nothing else in the world could capture his attention. It was part of his charm and she couldn’t afford to get drawn in.
“After you do graduate?” he prompted.
Great. Now she looked like an idiot who couldn’t hold a conversation. “I hope to put together my own band and play full-time.”
He angled his head slightly, but didn’t move back. “Why college, then? You don’t need a degree to play.”
“I promised my parents I would finish. My major is graphic design, so I can do freelance work while I build a reputation for playing.” The explanation tightened her nerves. She should be able to tell him. Of all the people she knew, Hunter would understand her need to play.
“What is it?” he asked quietly.
“I’m good at graphic design. I could make a living at it, but I’m afraid it’ll suck the life out of me. I want to play music.”
“So play. If it’s right for you, go for it.”
She smiled and huffed a little laugh. “Sounds great, except I haven’t been able to put together a band much less get hired. Three times I’ve tried and failed. I feel like I’m spinning my wheels, going nowhere, and I’m already so far behind everyone else.” More than a year wasted with a guy who didn’t really care, a year of schooling tossed aside. The embarrassment over her choices still stung.
“Behind how?”
“Look at you.” She waved with her free hand. “You have an established band that plays for money and you don’t even want to do that for a living. You’re on track to graduate on time and have your career set.” She took a quick drink, not used to being this honest with anyone. “I’ve got nothing but some random ideas.”
“Who says you have to have your whole life figured out right now?” He laid his hand on her thigh, sending a shock wave of warmth straight north. “You’ll be fine.”
She nodded, afraid to say anything because she just might blurt out, “Kiss me.” And she didn’t want that.
Definitely not.
Clearing her throat, she set her bottle on the table. “I should get going.”
He stood slowly and she watched the length of his body straighten. He only took a half step back, so when she stood, they were nearly touching.
“It was a good practice. I’m glad you were here.”
“Me too,” she said, but she wasn’t entirely sure what she was agreeing to. She blinked to regain her thought process and tried to step away, but only succeeded in crashing into the chair she’d vacated. Grabbing the back of the seat to steady it, she shook her head. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t let a guy like him have this effect on her.
As she straightened, another question popped into her head. “What song was it? That night at Andy’s.”
“I played a lot of songs that night.”
She shot him a look. “You know which one. You did an amazing solo.”
His head lifted with recognition. “ ‘Have a Little Faith in Me.’ ”
He said it more like a request instead of a song title and the urge to bolt hit her again. She pointed over her shoulder and left the room without looking back.
He followed. When she reached for her jacket, he beat her to it and held it out for her to slide into. Once her arms were in, he bundled the front together and zipped it up for her.
“It’s cold out. Wouldn’t want you getting sick.”
His fingers were warm on her neck as he straightened her collar. She didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly their bodies collided and he hauled her up for a wet kiss. His hands grabbed her head and moved her where he wanted her. Drowning in his strength, she fought for oxygen, stealing it from his lungs.
The kiss made her dizzy and hot and sexy. And so freaking turned on. Hunter pushed her against the wall, the hard length of him pinning her upper body. She gripped his hair and wanted to climb him. Raising her leg to wrap around his, she thrust her hips into him, loving the way she made him hard. His heart pounded as out of control as hers.
It wasn’t until he pulled away to come up for air that she came to her senses. She pulled her leg back and wanted to melt away. Hunter braced his hands on the wall beside her head. He lowered his face, staring into her eyes as he panted. He wanted more. She saw it plainly. So did she, but that was the kind of move she’d sworn off.
Pressing a hand to his chest over his still-throbbing heart, she pushed and slid away. “That shouldn’t have happened.”
“It was pretty fucking fun.”
She clenched her jaw to stop the smile. Any indication that she had enjoyed it as much as he did would be an open invitation. She shook her head.
A feather-light touch brushed her neck below her earlobe and down the side. “You can try to hide your reaction, but you’re not that good an actress. My friend Free can give you lessons if you want. In the meantime, you’re not fooling me.”
Heat rushed across her skin. She knew she couldn’t hide anything.
That was why she liked to keep her distance. She licked her lips and tasted his kiss. “I don’t want this. I just got done telling you ten minutes ago that I won’t be one of your playthings.”
“And I thought I was clear that I don’t treat women like playthings. I date women. I’ve dated a lot of women. Nothing stuck.” He threaded his fingers into her hair, tugging until she looked at him. “I’m not playing games. I want you. Let’s see where this goes.”
Crap. This was more bizarre than she’d considered. She figured him for wanting a quick roll. Exploring with him put her far out of her element. “Not a good idea.”
“Your kiss tells me otherwise.” He yanked her zipper up higher. “You want me to go warm up your car for you?”
Huh? The offer jolted her. No pressure to stay and continue what they’d started. No urging to commit to something. Just a gentlemanly offer to warm her car. “No, thanks. I’ll be fine.”
He stepped away and opened the front door for her. She shuffled to leave, confused by everything.
“Hey,” he called as she stepped into the hall.
When she turned, he held out her bag. She reached for it, his fingers grazing hers, sending yet another surge of desire through her. Oh, man, did she have it bad. “Thanks.”
“See you tomorrow at practice.”
“Not if I see you first.” She tried for a grin, but had a feeling that she looked more crazy than funny.
He waited in the chilly hall until she was out the front door. She resisted the urge to look back once she got outside. She needed to get away from him to gather her senses. Maybe she should suggest they only do lessons in the practice rooms at school. Surely that would prevent anything from happening between them. Coming to his apartment and being alone with him wasn’t smart.
She wouldn’t lie to herself and say she wasn’t attracted to him. She just needed to control it. By the time she got home, it was late, but Trish was waiting up.
“Where have you been?”
His New Jam Page 4