Love Struck

by Amber Garza

  “That sounds perfect.” I clap my hands together.

  Ryker wears an amused expression, and I can tell he wasn’t expecting me to choose that. “Really?”

  I nod.

  “Great. Our band has played at this club dozens of times, so I know the owner. You’ll be able to get in even though you’re underage, so don’t worry about that.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “Not that we’ll be drinking.”

  I don’t know how old Ryker is, but I know he’s over twenty-one. It’s sweet of him to offer not to drink so I won’t feel left out. “Sounds like a lot of fun.” And that is exactly what I was hoping for.

  Awkward silence settles over us as Ryker continues driving. I stare out the window at the splashes of blurry colors, cars, lights and houses. Leaves fly by like tiny little bats. My mind spins, trying to come up with something to say but I come up blank. Ryker's arm juts out and he turns up the music a little to cut through the quietness. A pulsing rock beat fills the little car.

  "Is this your band?" I ask, curious.

  "Are you serious?" He sounds incredulous. "This is only the best rock band of our time. Do you really not recognize it?"

  His mocking tone bothers me. Maybe dating a musician was a mistake after all. "I'm not really familiar with rock music." I fiddle with the bracelets wrapped around my wrist, and they clink together making music of their own.

  "Hey, I'm sorry. I was just teasing you." Ryker's gentle tone softens me a little. "I guess I kind of thought you were joking too."

  "Nope. Not joking. I know absolutely nothing about rock n' roll."

  "I feel like an ass. I guess I just assumed that since Star's a musician that you must be into music too." He shrugs, a sliver of light from the streetlamp slicing across his face.

  "It's cool," I say. "But no, I'm not a musician like Star. I used to be a dancer though."

  "Really?" His eyebrows lift slightly, and his mouth curves upward into a devilish grin. "A dancer, huh?"

  I groan, and playfully slap him in the shoulder. "Not that kind of dancer, you perv."

  "What makes you think that's what I was talking about?" He feigns innocence.

  "Cause you're a guy," I answer simply. "What about you? How long have you been playing?"

  "Can't remember a time when I wasn't. I started playing guitar as a kid, and I just never stopped."

  I smile wistfully, wishing I had something like that in my life. Even though I'm eighteen, I still haven't found that thing I'm passionate about. When I hear Star talk about her music, jealousy rises up inside of me like the bubbles in a carbonated soda. I want to feel like that about something. Over the years my parents enrolled me in all the extracurricular activities money can buy, but I wasn't really into any of them. Star tells me not to worry about it. She assures me that I'm still young enough to figure it out. But that's easy for her to say - she has her thing. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find my gift, my passion.

  The club is packed when we arrive. It’s smaller than I had pictured, and people are crammed inside. Thankfully it’s warm. Maybe even too warm. Every stool at the bar is occupied and all the tables are filled. Loud, live music booms from the stage, and right under it is an empty space on the floor where people of all ages dance to the beat. The lighting is dim and the place smells like sweat and beer. It’s exactly the kind of place California Lola wouldn’t be caught dead in.

  “This okay?” Ryker eyes me.

  “It’s perfect,” I answer honestly, yelling above all the noise. An elbow jabs me in the back, and I plaster myself to Ryker's side.

  He smiles, leaning down. His mouth brushes my ear, his breath hot against my earlobe. “I’d love to see some of your dance moves.”

  I shiver, and paste on my most confident smile. “I’d love to show you.” Then I grab his hand and yank him forward until we are entering the dance floor. I squeeze my way through people and locate a space to dance. Anxiety takes root in my stomach. Telling him I used to be a dancer may have been a slight over-exaggeration. I took a class once when I was eight, and it was ballet. Not sure how well that will translate here in this club while the band plays rock music. All around us couples gyrate, and some girls spin their hair around their heads violently. I cringe, knowing I won't be doing that. Not only will it seriously mess up my perfect curls, but it will give me a major head-rush. Taking a deep breath, I allow my body to sway back and forth. I've been to school dances before. Surely I can do this. I just need to feel the beat and move in sync. Closing my eyes, I let the music blanket me, let the beat weave its way around my body and pull me in the right direction. I raise my arms above my head, hearing my bracelets tinkle like chimes. Then I move my hips sensually from side to side. When I open my eyes, Ryker is staring at me his mouth slightly agape. I worry that maybe I've made a complete fool of myself.

  "Damn," he says under his breath. "Are you sure you weren't, you know, that kind of dancer?"

  I giggle, swatting at him again while continuing to dance.

  "Because that is seriously the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He swallows thickly and licks his lips. Then he steps closer to me, and my heart clatters in my chest. His hands curve around my waist and his body sways with mine, his fingers digging into my flesh. Keeping my arms above my head I continue to dance. "You're gonna have to stop doing that," he growls.

  "Why?" I answer coyly.

  "You have no idea the thoughts that are going through my mind right now, Lola."

  "Is that a bad thing?" I let my arms drop and they drape over his shoulders like a designer shrug.

  "It is if you want me to remain a gentleman."

  "I have a feeling you're always a gentleman, Ryker," I say with a smile.

  His forehead falls against mine, and I savor his musky scent. Even though we are surrounded by tons of people, I feel like we’re the only two in the room. Normally I can’t stop myself from people-watching. Star teases me about it all the time, how my eyes dart around and I have trouble focusing. But in this moment I am so in tune to Ryker that I have no desire to look anywhere other than in his rich brown eyes. "It's how I was raised. But in this moment I have the urge to throw all that out the window." The tone of his voice changes, taking on a husky quality.

  I lift my forehead off of his, searching his face. Maybe I took my flirting too far. Sometimes I do that.

  "But don't worry, I won't." He flashes me one of his dimpled grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The song ends abruptly and it seems so much quieter. "I always treat women with complete respect. I can assure you of that, Lola."

  "You really are like a sweet country boy. You must be the last old fashioned man left on this planet."

  "Like I said, it's how I was raised." He winks at me, causing me to melt into a puddle at his feet.

  "Your dad must be a gentleman too."

  His eyes darken, and he clears his throat. The music kicks back up again and he grabs my hand. "C'mon, let's get a soda or something."

  It feels good when his thick fingers thread through mine, but I can't help but wonder why he evaded my statement. Allowing him to lead me, I follow him to the bar. I can't hear over the loud music and people chattering, but after a couple of minutes Ryker thrusts a cold glass of dark, fizzy liquid into my hand. I close my fist around it, and bring it up to my lips. The minute the liquid lands on my tongue I realize that I was actually really thirsty. After taking a sip, I wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand.

  Ryker's lips feather over my cheek as he speaks into my ear. "Wanna go out to the patio? It's cooler and quieter out there."

  I nod as he snatches up my free hand. Carefully holding my drink steady, I walk behind Ryker as we weave through the crowd and make our way outside. An overpowering mixture of sweat, cologne and deodorant assault my sense. The minute we step out onto the deck, cold air prickles my skin. I’m grateful for the smell of the clean night air. There are several couples strewn about sitting on chairs and around a few small tables, but we find an empty ben
ch to sit. It's small so I'm practically in Ryker's lap, not that I'm complaining at all.

  I want to ask Ryker why he acted so strange when I mentioned his dad, but I feel like maybe that isn't a conversation for our first date. I've always been told that I'm a little pushy. Okay, I’ve actually been told I’m a lot pushy - on numerous occasions, in fact. And usually it’s when a guy is breaking it off with me. I like Ryker too much to risk pushing him away the first time we go out.

  A breeze kicks up and I shiver, my teeth chattering involuntarily.

  “Okay, this time I’m not taking no for an answer.” He peels off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. After setting my drink down near my feet, I tug the jacket tightly over my chest, enjoying the warmth. Plus, it smells like Ryker and that causes my head to spin.

  “You weren’t kidding about the whole gentleman thing, were you?” I ask, gripping the edges of the jacket.

  “Not at all.” I notice little goosebumps rising on his arm muscles, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He takes a sip of his soda and then glances over at me. "Has Star made a decision about joining the band?" He places his cup of soda in his lap, one hand curled around it.

  "I don't think so."

  "I really hope she decides to." He bumps his shoulder into mine. "Maybe you can give her a little nudge in the right direction."

  His words catch me off guard, and it makes me wonder if possibly I've misread this whole situation. The first night we met, Ryker had come over to talk to Star, not me. Now he's buttering me up in an effort to get Star in his band? This doesn't sit right with me. I scoot away from him, my body going rigid.

  "What Star does is up to her. I'm not going to play matchmaker for you, Ryker." My hands are shaking. The ground beneath my feet jumps as the drums beat from inside the club. The couple on the other side of us giggles. A cool breeze kisses my skin.

  "Matchmaker? What?"His brows knit together in a look of confusion.

  "Look, I get it okay. You're a musician, Star's a musician. It makes sense that you would be attracted to her."

  Ryker reaches out, his hand circling my wrist. "Whoa. Wait a second. Is that what you think? That I like Star?"

  I shrug. "I don't know. Do you?"

  "If I liked Star, I would've asked her out, not you. I don't play games, Lola. And I'm not asking you to play matchmaker."

  I know I should just let it go. I mean, what girl starts an argument with a guy on their first date? But I think I really like Ryker, and I need to know where he stands on this. I need to know that he's not attracted to Star at all. The last thing I want to do is set myself up to be hurt. "Then why do you want Star in your band so badly? Why did you even seek her out the other night? Correct me if I'm wrong, but most guys don't go out of their way to talk to a girl unless they think she's hot."

  "Lola." He releases my wrist and drops his hand on my thigh. It feels warm and good. "The truth is that when I heard Star play the other night I was completely taken with her."

  My stomach tightens. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him this.

  "But not the way you're thinking. I was just taken by her talent." He sighs. "Look, Beckett is kind of a control freak. The guys and I are sick of it. We've been talking about finding another singer, someone who can round him out. Someone who can take some of the pressure off of him."

  "So you won't have to rely so heavily on him, huh?" I nod, understanding.

  "Exactly." His eyes lock with mine. "When I heard Star play, I knew she was that person. But the truth is that even if she doesn't join our band I feel like it was fate that I met her because it led me to you."

  I raise my brow. "So you don't have a thing for Star at all?"

  "Not at all. You're the only girl I'm interested in, Lola."

  "That's good, because you're the only guy I'm interested in too, Ryker," I say.

  6

  Ryker

  Since Fiona and I broke up, I can literally count on one hand how many times a girl has come out to watch me play. Normally I don't date a girl long enough to invite her to our shows.

  But there she is. Lola. She’s sitting at a table near the stage, a sexy smile on her face. Her short red dress that matches her lipstick clings to her body like it was painted on, and her black hair is sleek against her pale skin. When she crosses one slender leg over the other, revealing her strappy sandals and red lacquered toes, my fingers slip from my guitar. Beckett glances back at me sharply, and I regain composure.

  My gaze flickers over to where Star sits at the keyboard, and I'm reminded that Lola isn't just here for me. This is Star's first time playing with us since she decided to join the band last week. It's clear that she's pretty nervous, and I know that Lola is really supportive of her. But when I catch Lola's eye again, she curves her mouth upward and flashes me wink, making it obvious that most of her attention is directed to me. It causes my heart to stutter in my chest.

  We still haven't kissed, but I plan to change that tonight. I'm not sure I can handle going another minute without feeling those incredible full lips against mine. As if she can sense what I'm thinking, she darts her pink tongue out of her mouth and runs it over her bottom lip. That chick seriously drives me crazy. With jerky movements, I play the guitar struggling to keep up with the song when my mind is busy fantasizing about the sexy girl making eyes at me. Shaking away the thoughts, I force my mind to focus on playing. Beckett will give me hell if I keep messing up.

  Although to be honest, I'm surprised he even hears me with the way he's staring at Star. He swears he doesn't like her at all, but his expression tells me something entirely different. I make a mental note to talk with him about it later. Tonight it's all about me and Lola. Beckett and Star will have to wait.

  The minute our set ends, I unhook my guitar and set it on its stand. I unplug all my equipment and start cleaning up. Beckett and Star talk near the edge of the stage while the other guys put away their instruments. Lola waits at the table, so I move quickly, not wanting her to leave. The sound of Star's heels stomping on the stage draw my attention. Beckett stares after her, a puzzled expression on his face that tells me the conversation wasn't exactly a cordial one. Man, the tension between those two is so thick I can feel it. Abandoning my stuff, I head over to Beckett.

  Agitated, he runs a hand over his hair. Out of the corner of my eye I see his fan club starting to form, and irritation rises inside of me.

  "You giving Star a ride home?" I ask. It stands to reason that since he gave her a ride here that he'll take her home, but I've never known Beckett to forgo his fan club.

  "Nah, she's going home with her friend."

  My heart sinks. "Oh. I was kind of hoping for a little alone time with Lola, but that's cool."

  "Sorry, man." Beckett shrugs, turning away from me and throwing a wink to some slutty blond primping near the stage.

  It turns my stomach. Groaning in frustration, I walk away from him. After getting all my equipment put away, I head off the stage and swagger right up to Lola. She and Star are sitting at a table, their heads bent close together. When I approach, Lola lifts her head and smiles.

  "Hey," she says. "You sounded great up there."

  "Thanks." I look over at Star, realizing that I can't exactly leave her out now, no matter how badly I want to get Lola alone. "So, do you two wanna go do something tonight?"

  Lola presses her lips together and flicks her gaze toward her friend. "That's up to Star."

  "Um...no, I'm kinda tired," Star replies.

  My stomach tumbles to the floor at her words, and I'm once again annoyed with Beckett. If he'd only taken Star home, then Lola and I could go out tonight.

  "Oh, okay." Lola seems dejected as well.

  "But you two should go out," Star says.

  My spirits lift. "Sounds great to me. What do you say?" I raise my brows, placing my hand on Lola's shoulder.

  "You sure you don't want to come with us?" Lola gives Star one last opportunity to change her mind, and it makes me want to kiss her eve
n more. She's such a sweet friend, and always so considerate. Even though I want her all to myself tonight, I like that she cares so much about Star. I mean, I don't even know Star that well, and I can tell she's a little upset right now. I'm positive it has something to do with Beckett. He's a master at pissing off the ladies. Actually he’s pretty good at pissing off everyone.

  "Yes, I'm sure." Star stands up. Then she furrows her brows. "But I don't have my car."

  "Take mine." Lola thrusts her car keys into Star's hand. Then she turns to me. "You can take me home later, right?"

  "Maybe." I wink. "Or maybe I'll just keep you with me forever."

  "I think that's called kidnapping, Ryker," Lola teases.

  I snake my arm around her waist. "Not if you come willingly."

  "Okay." Star shakes her head, an exasperated look in her eyes. Giggling rings out, and we all glance over just in time to see Beckett whispering in the slutty blond’s ear across the room. Star’s face pales and she quickly grabs her purse, flinging it over her shoulder. "You guys have fun. I'm outta here."

  While Star pushes past us, Lola giggles into my chest. Her breath is hot against my skin and it causes a chill to shiver down my spine. I tighten my hold on her and inhale her coconut scent.

  "Anyone ever tell you that you smell like a tropical island?" I ask her.

  She peers up at me through her dark fringe. "No, but it makes sense. Spending time with me is just as fun as being on an incredible vacation."

  I chuckle, pressing my lips to her forehead. Freezing, she lets out a tiny gasp.

  "C'mon, let's go." I steer her out of the club, looking forward to hearing her gasp a few more times tonight.

  "You took me to a park?" Lola cinches the belt on her black jacket. Her hair swirls around her face and her cheeks are flushed. A few feet away the chains on the swings rattle in the breeze. In the distance a couple of teenagers play a game on the basketball court. As the ball bounces it takes on a rhythm, reminding me of a consistent drum beat. But other than that, the park is empty.