18. Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Eighteen
Summer
He stares at me long and hard, waiting for me to take this guitar from his hands. My eyes ping-pong between him and the instruments, a lump digging a home for itself in my esophagus, leaving me wanting to clear my throat until it vanishes.
Instead, I make myself suffer because I don’t want to make it more obvious that I’m way in over my head and completely fucking nervous.
I think I changed my mind.
As a matter of fact, I’m not even sure why I asked him to teach me when I don’t have the hand-eye coordination needed to play any instrument. High school music class taught me that little fact.
His eyebrows raise as he nudges the guitar in my direction. “Come on.”
I immediately shake my head, more so ashamed that he’s about to hear the worst sound in the entire world.
“OK. OK. But…” I turn my head, raising my index finger.
“But,” he repeats.
“You are not allowed to laugh at me.” He chuckles, and I slap him on the arm. “I told you not to laugh.”
He clasps his lips together and raises one hand with a black pick between his fingers.
Blowing out a breath, I grab the guitar from him. I stare at it for ten long seconds before I look back at Alec. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to position this thing.”
“This thing is a guitar, and you rest it on your leg, holding the neck at an angle. Like this.” He adjusts the guitar lap, and then he hands me the pick. I stare at it dumbfounded.
“Do I have to use that?” I ask.
He laughs again, and I roll my eyes, which makes him laugh a little harder. “No, but it’s a lot easier on your fingers if you do. Sometimes, if the tips of your fingers aren’t used to the tough strings, after a while, it’ll hurt.”
I can tell by just running my finger along the length of one of these strings that after pushing on them for so long, it’ll eventually start to hurt.
With hesitation, I swallow. Alec notices my discomfort, and his expression changes. “Alright, come here,” he says, waving his arm.
He adjusts himself as I scoot closer to him. He’s behind me, and I’m nearly between his legs, holding back from screeching like a teenager who finally got to kiss her crush.
I keep my eyes on the floor, not knowing what he’s going to do, and that makes me far more apprehensive. I feel his arm wrap around me and his fingers glide across my arm. A rush sways through my body as tiny butterflies flutter around each flower that blooms in the pit of my stomach.
His scent wraps around my senses, and I lean into him, needing to feel more of his body touching mine. His breath hitting the crease of my neck causes goosebumps to prickle along my skin.
He locks his fingers with mine slowly and places them accordingly on the neck of the guitar. “Keep this hand here, and your fingers pressed down. This is a B note,” he whispers. Then, adjusting the other hand that holds the pick, he says, “Now, strum.”
I do, and I burst out laughing so loud I snort. It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life. My hand flies up to my mouth, embarrassment taking over me, but I can’t stop laughing long enough to care. He joins in, and after what feels like a solid five minutes, I scoot out from between his legs and hand him back his guitar.
“There is no way I can do this.”
“Don’t be so negative. It takes a lot of time and practice to nail it,” he reassures me.
“Well, I don’t know how you do it, but I’ll leave it to you.” That half a smirk he gives me, where a little bit of his near-white teeth peek out, does things to me. Things that I shouldn’t let my body feel.
But it’s too late, and I’m doomed.
He takes the guitar from my hand, and it takes him a whopping two seconds to adjust himself while I prop my elbow on the edge of his bed and rest my head against it. I admire his fingers as they start to move swiftly over the strings, a beautiful melody coming to life.
I smile because it is clear he was born to do this.
The minute he starts singing, I could have sworn my soul left my body. The hairs on the back of my neck rise, and I’m left blowing out a breath to calm myself down a bit. His voice is the softest, most pleasing voice I have ever heard. I would listen to him all day, every day, if I could.
This man is everything. Well, he’s everything except mine, and that makes me sad. I can’t be with him. I can’t date a man my father hates. I’m also bothered because it shouldn’t matter who I am with. But it does, and I can’t disappoint my father like that. I’ve disappointed him enough lately. Alec and I can only be friends.
My eyes trail down his neck tattoo, biting on my lip as I watch his vein pulse. A twist in my stomach causes heat to shoot between my legs. I do my best to ignore the feeling, not wanting to show that I’m turned on. If he had put a shirt on, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.
Then again, a shirt wouldn’t make a difference because I still imagine what those fingers could do inside of me, and that alone worsens the arousal.
He moves his head up, and his eyes lock on mine. His lip curls into a half smile. Worry sparks through me, and I pray he doesn’t notice my blushing cheeks. He continues to sing, staring at me like he wants to devour me whole.
This is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. My throat closes, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
I need to stop. I can’t feel this way about him.
God, if you can hear me, please take away these feelings I have for Alec Sokolov. We both know if things go further, it will cause me more pain, and my little heart can’t handle any more pain.
“You want my pants off, don’t you?”
I blink twice and move my eyes back to his, not realizing the song had ended. My skin heats because I was staring directly at his pants, and I’m not sure for how long.
“Shut up.” I grab the first thing in my reach and throw it at him. Luckily, it was only a hacky sack stuffed in a small basket on the side of his dresser.
He chuckles and tosses it back in my direction. It hits my shoulder, falling onto the floor. I roll my eyes and pick it back up.
“Do you want to try again?” he asks, passing me the guitar.
***
“When did you realize you wanted to have a band?” I take a slice of pizza from the box on the portable table Alec opened.
Alec teaching me how to play the guitar was a complete and total flop. A huge disaster. One that I never want to experience again. Although I did have a lot of fun—I don’t recall the last time I laughed that hard. An hour and a half flew by in the blink of an eye, and I didn’t realize until my stomach was screaming like a banshee.
He finishes chewing his food before answering. “My mom used to take me to the field right in town when I was six. There always was always a lot of entertainment on the stage. Mostly comedies. When I turned eight, I decided I wanted to learn how to play the guitar. My dad purchased a small guitar, and I actually taught myself. I never really knew the notes until I was around eleven.”
“Wow. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I never knew people gathered around there for entertainment.” I frown, noticing how much Dad kept me away from so much.
“Yeah, but the majority of the people that used to go were addicts. Of course, I hadn’t noticed at the time. I was a kid. But eventually, I caught on.”
I shift my gaze down, staring at the pizza in my hand. The thought of my mother sneaks up on me. Was she one of the many people who would go to the field for drugs? Is that how it started? I know these are questions I’ll never find answers for, but I can’t help but try and fit pieces together.
“I’m really sorry about the death of your parents.” He shifts uncomfortably, and I too, feel the same. Clearing my throat, I change the subject. “What about the band? How did that start?”
“When I met Samantha, we would goof around a lot. Make our own covers of our favorite songs.”
There is that jealousy creeping on me again. I mentally shove it away like I’m swatting a fly.
“And the other two?”
“James and Tyler. I met Tyler at the bowling alley downtown, and he introduced us to James. We all had the same passion.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal, even though it is.
I finish my pizza and brush my hands together to remove the crumbs. “When did you meet Samantha?” I know this isn’t my business, and it shouldn’t be something to be concerned about, but I can’t help but feel like they used to be something. The way she looked at me earlier confirms my theory mentally but in reality… I want to know.
I know I’m being silly. Even if there was something in the past, I doubt he would be here with me right now, alone in his apartment, if there was something going on between them now. Then I noticed Alec’s expression drift, leaving him hesitating to answer my question. That doesn’t settle with me.
“I met her when I was eighteen,” he states, his eyes move to his pizza. “She was with me the first time I was arrested. But I can assure you, we’ve never slept together. We never dated. She’s my best friend. That’s it.”
My eyes widen, and fear claws my insides. “I… wasn’t going to ask you that.”
He grins, showing most of his teeth like he doesn’t believe me. “You didn’t have to.”
That confirms my theory. It’s like he can see right through me.
I wiggle on the couch, crossing my arms. “You think you’re some big hot shot, don’t you?”
He chuckles, running his tongue along his bottom lip and leaning closer to me. “It’s written all over your face, Sunshine.” His warm breath tickles my ear, sending a shiver to skate down my spine.
Not again, Summer.
I push the feeling aside. “There is nothing written on my face, band geek.” I stick my tongue out at him.
He shrugs. “If you say so.”
Our eyes stay connected for a long time. I almost forgot that we are in his apartment, on his couch, eating pizza that he bought.
His hand slowly extends toward me. He interlocks his fingers with mine, and I savor the feeling of his touch. My heart beats faster with each breath I take. His thumb makes gentle circular motions on the back of my hand. I am lost in the moment, and I know I should pull away and stop before anything happens.
Though, lately, I have done things I should have done. I have been doing things I want to do.
And I want this.
I want his touch. I want to feel his hands on my face. My stomach. Touching and feeling every bit of my flesh. I want all of it, all of him. And I want him to grab my face and kiss me like he’s never kissed anyone else before.
Fuck, I need to stop.
There is no way we can be together, right?
Not to mention that with his good looks, beautiful voice, and very sexy body… he has the power to have and take anyone he pleases.
Frankly, I don’t think I can handle that.