So Thursday morning in early April, he sat in government class doodling. He realized his teacher would have preferred it if Brad had been taking notes, but Brad figured the guy should be happy Brad was paying any attention at all. Drawing helped him focus on the man’s words, and right now his teacher was droning on and on about the president’s vetoing power. Brad was so ready to be out of school. He was just hanging in there until graduation, maintaining passing grades until he could walk away, done. He had friends going on to college, some to tech school, others going into the military, and even others venturing out into the unknown, but Brad had one dream, one goal—that was to make his band. He’d already been in one other his sophomore year in high school, but it had fizzled when the drummer and vocalist had gone to college at the end of the year and—since then—Brad had focused on becoming the best guitar player he could. Ethan tried talking him into being in the school band, but he wanted no part of it. Ethan played bass drum for the marching band and he enjoyed it, but Brad thought playing in the school band would just distract him from what he really wanted to do—and that was to be part of something big. He dreamed of being in a metal band. He would even sing if need be, but music was his life, and he would only be happy if he could make that dream a reality.
The bell rang and he left class, walking down the hall to his locker. He dropped off the notebook and textbook and then looked around for the two people he spent most lunch breaks with—Leah and Ethan. Ethan showed up and nodded his head. Brad was somewhat surprised. His friend had handled his breakup with Heidi surprisingly well. But he was afraid it was the calm before the storm. He knew his friend well enough to know that he could be self-destructive, and he expected a cascade of shit to come crashing down in the next week, whenever Ethan finally managed to completely lose it. He’d either track down closet guy and beat the shit out of him or go on a complete bender. The problem was that Brad had been trying to hide Ethan’s out-of-control behavior from June, the guy’s mother, but Brad was afraid the gig was about up. Bad enough Ethan had wound up emptying a bottle of Vicodin that had been prescribed to June a year earlier. All Brad could figure was that either June was such a mess that she couldn’t see Ethan for what he was becoming or he and Ethan really were good at hiding it all.
He was pretty sure June had the blinders on, though. From what Brad knew, her life had been a continual mess, and Ethan just happened to suffer from collateral damage. Brad and Ethan had partied together hard earlier in high school, but Brad soon realized it wasn’t simply fun rebellion or a need to get loose and crazy for Ethan. Ethan seemed to need to get lost once in a while, to drown in oblivion, but he always managed to come up for air and be stronger for it. Still, Brad worried about it sometimes, but the times he’d bring it up, Ethan wouldn’t talk. It was better just to support his friend and be there to pick up any pieces that might fall to the ground.
For now, though, Ethan appeared to be lucid and calm, and he hadn’t said shit about Heidi or the guy they’d caught her getting ready to bone. It was almost as though Ethan had managed to get it all out of his system that night. That his friend hadn’t talked about her, called her, or asked around about her made Brad think that maybe Ethan had grown up some in the past year. He could only hope. He nodded back at his friend. There was no sense talking. The halls were always noisy and chaotic between classes, but especially right before lunch. He looked around and then he saw her—beautiful Leah, rounding the corner. She saw him too and smiled, waving her tiny pale hand, the bracelet around her wrist wiggling back and forth with the motion.
God, she was a sight. Her long blonde hair framed her lovely pale face that was enhanced with the light makeup she wore, and her warm brown eyes always made him think of a deer—innocent, not quite willing to trust or relax. She was thin but filled out, thanks to her involvement on the school’s dance team. He’d never been with a girl who’d had as firm a body as hers—and he liked it. Today, she wore as short a skirt as she could get away with, which was barely halfway up her thighs. From what Leah had told him, her dad was pretty strict about what she wore. She couldn’t wear as much makeup as her friends, and jewelry had to be modest. Body piercing was out of the question, although Brad didn’t think she would have been interested in it anyway. She couldn’t wear anything revealing—no bare midriff, no super short skirts that would lend themselves to a peek, no low-cut tops. Brad felt honored just having been able to touch her bare thigh or her back underneath her shirt. She’d let him move a little but not much. Her dad had influenced her heavily, and Brad respected that. He didn’t want her dad bearing down on him one night with a shotgun.
It wasn’t like Brad couldn’t get laid. He was no slut, but he’d had enough sex to know there would always be a girl out there willing to part her legs. And he had no intention of pressuring his girlfriend. He cared for her a lot, and if they were going to consummate their relationship, it would be when Leah felt completely ready and not a moment before.
She made her way through their crowd of classmates flooding senior hall and slipped her hand in Brad’s. She’d already put her books away and had her purse over her shoulder. She stood on her tiptoes and raised her voice in Brad’s ear. “Where we going today?”
He shrugged and looked over at Ethan, and the three of them walked outside. Once they were in the fresh spring air, Brad asked, “You guys just wanna get something from the gas station and hang at the park to eat?”
Leah smiled. “Sure.”
Ethan said nothing but nodded and ran his hands through his reddish brown hair. They walked toward Brad’s little white car, what he called his tin can, and got in, Ethan in the backseat. The first time he turned the key, the car sputtered but didn’t catch. Brad drew in a deep breath. He’d live if his car needed more repairs, but it was damned inconvenient, and he was sick of sinking money into it. He had a weekend job at Super Lube, changing oil in cars in record time, but he wanted to spend his money on important things, things related to his dream, not keeping a piece of shit car on the road. He spent a little money on Leah too but not much. She was pretty low maintenance, and his mom loved having her over for dinner, so Brad rarely had to spend lots of money on dates—the movies once in a while, the price of admission for school dances, but nothing outrageous.
The second time, though, the car started up and he gave it extra gas to make sure it didn’t die. The music was on the loud side. The radio station was playing a Mudvayne song, but Leah wasn’t as big a fan of metal as he and Ethan, so he turned the radio down and grinned at her as he slid the car in gear and pulled out of the parking space.
By the time they got to the gas station, Brad could smell the smoke wafting up front from the backseat. Leah didn’t say a word, and at first Brad couldn’t tell if it was a cigarette or pot. He felt relieved that it was only a cigarette, but he could never be sure with Ethan. He and Leah both opened the front doors but Ethan didn’t get out. He held a five-dollar bill out the window to Brad and said, “Just get me a Dr. Pepper and a Snickers, would ya?”
“Great lunch.”
“What’re you having? Nachos or a hot dog? Like that’s so great?”
“Better than all that sugary shit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m gonna need it to survive English this afternoon.”
Brad saw his friend’s eyes and knew he’d taken something on the drive. Yeah. The last thing he needed was more shit in his body, but there was no arguing with him. He shook his head and draped his arm over Leah’s shoulders. The two of them wound up getting a sub sandwich to split, chips, and drinks, and then the three of them drove to the park a couple of blocks away. They found a table partially shaded by a tree, but the sun was warm and pleasant and there wasn’t even a hint of a breeze. Leah sat completely in the shade but wore a pink cardigan over her beige dress. None of them said anything at first, instead just eating, but Brad finally asked Ethan, “So, what’d your friend say?”
“Who? About what?”
“Nick, right? One o
f your drummer friends from band?”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah. He wants to come over this weekend. He said he could set up his drum kit in your garage and jam some with us… ‘see if it’s a good fit,’ he said.”
“Cool. And I told you about Zane, right? He said he’s in.”
“Not even gonna try playing with us?”
“Nah. I’ve known him for a while. He played in another piss ant band about a year ago, and he’s seen me play. He said he doesn’t give a shit as long as we don’t play pop or country. He’s in. He misses playing in a real band. And he’s good. Trust me. He’ll be a good fit.”
“I trust you, man.” Ethan’s eyelids were getting heavy and he rested his head on his forearm. Not good. Brad didn’t want to have to drag his friend into the nurse’s office.
Leah distracted him, though. She rested her hand on his forearm. “What are you doing tomorrow after school?”
He shrugged. “Probably laundry.”
She lowered her voice and leaned closer to him. “Your mom working?”
He grinned and looked in her eyes. He could see Ethan out of the corner of his eye, and his friend didn’t seem to be paying attention. “Yeah…”
“Can I come over for a while?”
“Like you have to ask?”
Further talk about his band was quashed by the look in his girlfriend’s eyes and Ethan’s continuing state of intoxication. For now, he was okay with that.
Chapter Three
LEAH HADN’T EVEN gone home after school that Friday. She went home with Brad. They spent a couple hours watching videos on YouTube, because she’d been asking about his band and the kind of music he wanted to play. She had never seen his old band, and she didn’t listen to a lot of the music Brad did. She was more a Top Forty kind of gal, but maybe Brad could change that.
He had to turn it off after he saw her lip curl at a Chelsea Grin video.
By then, it was close to dinner, so he found the leftover spaghetti in the fridge and threw it in the microwave. They ate in the kitchen and continued their conversation about his band, but he could tell by the look on her face that Leah was a little hesitant about the music Brad wanted to play. She must have known before, based on the music Brad played all the time.
When they were done eating, she asked to hear him play. That made him feel better. So they went to his bedroom. His guitar was in there, for starters, and it wasn’t like she’d never been there before. But the only times she’d been there before were when Brad’s mom had been home. Still, he wasn’t thinking much about it. They’d kissed and snuggled on his bed before, but he’d never gone further. He respected her wishes, but still…she’d ignited a fire in him when she’d wrapped her pink lips around his cock, and he hadn’t been able to think about much else since.
It didn’t matter, though. Unless and until she said she was ready, he would keep his hands—and his dick—to himself.
He knew she didn’t like music as heavy as he did, so he played some of his new music on his acoustic guitar and he skipped over the solos. He also kept the vocals calmer than he would have were he onstage. He couldn’t help but feel some pride when she said she liked the songs. He wondered what she would think when they were plugged in and loud, but he thought maybe she could acquire a taste for his music. Love could maybe help her appreciate it more.
Love?
Yes, Brad knew that was what he was feeling. He’d never felt this way before, never been drawn to a girl like Leah until now. She seemed so perfect for him, so right, and even though there were so many differences between them, that was okay. Those differences seemed to smooth out and not matter when he was with her.
He grinned and set his guitar on the floor, propping the neck against the foot of the bed, and he turned back to her. “So…you really like the songs?”
“I do.” She smiled back and after a few moments said, “Are you going to play them like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know—kind of quiet like that?”
Oh. He knew where this was headed. “Why?”
She placed her index finger on his t-shirt at chest level and swirled it playfully. “I really liked it. I…imagined you playing a louder song.”
Yep. He was right. “Well, it’ll definitely be plugged in onstage. And, yeah, lots louder. Can’t help it, Leah. It’s in my blood.”
She smiled then and there was something in her eyes. God, how he’d love to know what she was thinking. She acted like she was going to say something, but then Brad heard a door downstairs shut. “Brad!” his mother’s voice carried up the stairs. “Honey, I was called into work early, so I’m gonna go change, but can you put the groceries away, please?”
“Yeah, be there in a minute, mom.” He’d known his mother would leave between six and six-thirty, but he hadn’t expected to not see her at all. He touched his nose to Leah’s. “Be right back.”
“I can help you, you know.”
He smiled as he stood. “Okay.” He held out his hand and waited for Leah to slip hers into his, and they walked down the stairs. When they got to the kitchen, Brad found five plastic grocery bags on the table.
“What do you want me to do?”
He looked through the bags and handed one to her. “That all looks like fridge stuff. Would you mind putting it in there?”
“No problem.” While she took care of the one bag, Brad put away the canned and boxed goods in three of the bags. As the two of them worked on putting away what was in the last bag, Brad’s mom walked in the kitchen wearing yellow scrubs.
“Oh, Leah. I didn’t know you were here. How are you?”
“Great, Mrs. Payne. How are you?”
She grimaced. “Busy, unfortunately.” She walked over to Brad and kissed him on the cheek, standing on her toes since her son was quite a bit taller than she. “See you tomorrow, bud.”
Brad smiled. “See ya, mom.”
“See you, Leah.” His mother grabbed her purse and headed out the door. Brad couldn’t help but smile as his mother walked out. He knew she was the reason he had the dark hair on his head. His father had light brown hair too, but his mother’s was almost black and so was his. In fact, he suspected he looked more like his mother all the way around in the face—dark eyes, dark hair, full lips. The facial hair changed all that, though. Body-wise, he was more like his father—tall and solid. Unlike both his parents, though, Brad was planning to be tattooed—a lot.
He turned to face his girlfriend. “So, where were we?”
She grinned. “You were playing songs for me.”
“Not boring you, was I?”
She shook her head, almost acting shy. He smiled and kissed her forehead, then took her by the hand to lead her back to his room. Leah sometimes had a tendency to act demure even when she didn’t need to, but it was one of the things she did that endeared her to Brad. When they got to his room, they sat back on the edge of the bed where they’d been before, but Leah held onto his hand. He was going to grab for his guitar but instead looked in her eyes. And he could tell she didn’t want him to play music for her anymore. Her eyes told him that much.
Still…she didn’t realize how difficult it was becoming for him to engage in hot and heavy make out sessions with no release. He would never pressure her, and he would find ways to take care of himself later, but every time they got involved in a heavy kissing session, he found himself worked up beyond control. The blow job last weekend hadn’t helped, because now his mind raced back to that night. He didn’t want to ask her to do it again, but it was all he could think about.
It didn’t matter. He couldn’t resist her, and he could do what he’d been doing—taking care of himself when she was gone. So he leaned over and cupped her cheek in his hand. She tilted her head into his hand and closed her eyes. She inhaled a slow breath and then looked at him. She searched his eyes as he moved his face close to hers and met her lips with a kiss.
It was unlike any other kiss they had shared before. There w
as something about it that felt a little steamier, a little more intimate, and Brad tried not to think about it. It was then, as his tongue explored her mouth, that he finally let go and let the emotion wash over him, the one he’d been denying, the one he’d felt sure couldn’t be real.
He loved this girl.
Yes, he’d cared about other girls before, but not like Leah. Leah was beginning to feel like a part of him, like something he wouldn’t be able to live without, like air. He knew he was too young to feel that way, too inexperienced, but he couldn’t help the feeling. It was there, and it was strong, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
So he just let himself feel it. He believed she could feel it too, because something tonight was different. He felt her hands on his chest, but they weren’t resting there. Her fingers were curled just enough that he could feel her fingernails through his shirt. She was tense, but not in a nervous way.
If he was reading her signals right, he knew what to do. His hand was already on the back of her head, his fingers entwined in her hair, the base of his palm resting on her neck, and he moved his hand to ease her head to the side. He ended their kiss and moved his lips to her neck, just inches below her ear. She let out a breath, one he could hear, and that confirmed that he was on the right track. He could still feel her fingers digging into him as he moved his lips down her neck to below her chin.
He didn’t know if he should say anything or simply move and let her say something if she wanted him to stop. He was sure he was on the right track, though, and so he was going to move forward, but he’d take it slow. He could tell she liked his lips on her neck by how she was responding, so he wanted to keep making her feel good.
That meant moving his hands, and he knew if she didn’t like it, she’d say something. They’d only been dating a month the first time he’d tried, and she’d stopped him, telling him she wasn’t ready. He’d respected her request since, keeping his hands in acceptable places, but when she’d given him that blow job almost a week ago, it had felt like all bets were off—like she was ready to move forward.
Bullet Series Box Set Books 1-8 Page 92