Bad Rep (Bad Rep #1)(29)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

I had had enough. I put my cup down on the window sill and found myself climbing the stairs to the second level. I didn’t know what the hell I was thinking. I had been adamant in my resolve to stay away from Jordan. I didn’t want to play this game with him while he was involved with someone else. But after witnessing the f**ked up dynamic between he and Olivia, my heart hurt for him.

I didn’t want to find him to hook up or anything. I kind of just wanted to hang out with him. For a little bit. As a friend. If that were possible.

There were four doors in the hallway and I had no idea which one was Jordan’s. So I started opening them. The first was a bathroom where a girl was puking her guts out in the sink and a guy was passed out in the tub. I closed that door quickly.

The next was a bedroom and it was currently being used. I caught sight of two girls and a guy naked on the bed before I slammed the door shut. I might have to bleach my brain when I got home after the shit I had seen go down this evening.

I opened the third door and knew instantly I was in the right place. A drum kit sat in the corner and a guitar rack hung from the wall above a double bed. There were a few posters, each of a different band. I recognized one of my favorites, the Pixies.

A door to the right opened and Jordan stepped out of an adjoining bathroom. He looked up and stopped short, seeming surprised. “Maysie. What are you doing up here?” he asked, turning off the bathroom light. A heated look flickered over his face as his swept over my body.

“You look amazing,” he murmured, his stare searing holes through my body. I coughed in nervousness and Jordan looked away. I watched him cross to the other side of the room. He picked up one of the guitars off the rack. He slipped the strap around his neck and sat on the bed as he started to tune it.

“Well, I promised you I’d come,” I said, still looking around his room. I noticed several framed pictures on his dresser. Walking over, I picked up one of him and Olivia at some formal. They looked younger and were smiling at each other in a way that made it obvious they were in love. I quickly put it down.

“Yes you did. Glad to see some people keep their promises,” he replied darkly, running his hand down the length of his shiny Ibanez guitar.

“A little crazy down there, huh?” I asked, watching him. He started twisting the tuning pegs, while plucking the strings. Jordan grunted something unintelligible but otherwise didn’t comment.

“I didn’t know you played the guitar.” I said, tentatively pulling up his desk chair and having a seat. He looked up at me and gave me a halfhearted smile.

“Yeah, I don’t play that well. The drums are definitely more my thing. But sometimes I just like to jam out for a bit. It’s kind of a stress reliever.” He looked back down at the guitar in his hands and started to move his fingers over the strings. I was tickled to realize he was playing the opening chords of Tangerine, one of my favorite Led Zeppelin songs.

“Don’t play well my ass,” I teased, mesmerized as I watched him pull notes from his guitar. Jordan looked at me and I couldn’t help but smile at him. Gone was the flirty, intense Jordan Levitt. This Jordan was quiet and collected and perhaps even harder to resist. He suddenly got up and shut his bedroom door.

My face flushed and I felt like I might hyperventilate. Jordan must have recognized the look of panic on my face because he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “The noise out there is giving me a headache. Is this okay?” he asked and I appreciated him wanting my permission. It was sweet.

And right then, I forgot about everything but being here with him…right now. So I nodded. Jordan dropped his hand and sat back down on his bed. “You ever thought about learning to play?” he asked me as he continued to strum a tune.

I put a hand to my chest in mock horror. “Dear god, no! I’m musically challenged in the worst way. Tone deaf doesn’t even start to cover how bad I am when it comes to anything instrument related.” I explained adamantly.

Jordan waved his hand, gesturing for me to come over to him. When I didn’t move he smirked. “I’m not going to bite,” he taunted, though his words seemed to hold the hint of a promise. So against my better judgment, I stood up and sat down beside him on the bed.

Jordan lifted the guitar over his head and slid the strap around my neck and under my arm. “I know you’re a righty, so hold it like this.” How in the world did he know I was right handed? Jordan couldn’t miss the question in my silence. “When you write down orders, it’s always with your right hand,” he explained, looking a little shy by the admission.

I knew he watched me sometimes, but knowing he paid that close of attention was more than a little flattering. He leaned behind me and propped his chin on my shoulder. His arms came around me and he took my right hand and placed it over the strings. Then he wrapped his hand around my smaller left one as we gripped the fret board together.

“You have to loosen up. The first thing about music is you can’t think too much about it. You kind of have to feel it. Does that make sense?” His breath tickled my ear as he spoke. I had to force my body not to shiver as I became entirely too focused on the feel of his chest pressed against my back. I could smell the grease from his shift at Barton’s mixed with a scent that was undeniably Jordan.

I swallowed thickly and nodded my head. Jordan lifted my forefinger and held it down over one of the strings. Then he took my middle finger and placed it one string down. Followed by my ring finger that he positioned below that one. He pressed my hand lightly into the biting metal. He lifted my right hand in his and took my fingers, running them along the length of the guitar, top to bottom. The sound it emitted was pretty.

I turned my head a bit to look at him and grinned. “That was cool!” I enthused.

Jordan smiled back. “That was an A chord,” he said, obviously enjoying my excitement. His smile slowly faded and I became very aware of how close our faces were. Our lips were almost touching and all I could do was stare into his beautiful blue eyes.

If I moved forward just a fraction of an inch I could kiss him. God I wanted to kiss him. No, I needed to kiss him. Needed it like I needed the air that I breathed. How had I never noticed how incredibly amazing Jordan’s eyes were? They weren’t just blue; they were this molted blend of light blue and darker cerulean. Someone could get lost looking in those eyes. And for a second I did.

Until I realized what was happening and I pulled myself away. I cleared my throat and looked down at his hands holding mine over the guitar. “Can you show me a different chord?” I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to steady myself.