Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
“Hell Skate is my band. I started it.”
“So take the name and start a new band. They already mentioned it. Go away, Jude.”
Hurt shone in his eyes, just briefly.
I felt bad. Or, I almost felt bad. Jude was dirty. Him still hooking up with Toya while he was hooking up with me and not telling me, douche move, but I never loved Jude. It’s why I picked him. He was from a whole different world, one that I enjoyed because of the music. I could get lost in it just as much as him. But I was using him and he always knew it.
Other than his dirty factor, his worst traits were being a diva for the band. He’d been easy-going with me, chill to hang out with, and he kept his drama to what he really loved: the music. Thinking all of that, seeing him watching me, I pressed against Cris’ side and gave Jude a small smile. “Pick your battles, Jude.” Cris’ arm slid around my waist, his hand anchoring on my hip and moving low. Jude saw it, his eyes following Cris’ hand. I added, tilting my head to the side, “You weren’t working with the guys and you know it. Take the name and move on. You did it once, you can do it again.”
His mouth pursed, and he seemed to be considering it, his head cocking up as well. “You know what? You’re right. I can do that. And I’ll find better guys.”
Doubtful. Luis was the best drummer around, but I just nodded. “You sure will.”
“I will.” He dipped his head before taking a step backwards. “I’m sorry for—I don’t know why your boyfriend rushed me, but while I’m glad I came here, I’m sorry for the hostility.” His eyes held to mine, lingering, and some resignation filtered in. “I hope you stop running from whatever you were trying to hide from, Maren. I did care about you.”
“I know,” I said softly. “If we hadn’t cared a little, we wouldn’t have used each other how we did.”
He coughed slightly. “Yeah.” He dipped his head down to Cris and Ryan before leaving, walking down one of the sidewalks.
“Did that dude walk here?” from one of their roommates.
I sank into Cris’ side even more, laughing a little. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Huh. Okay then. Fireworks over?” They went inside, leaving Ryan, Cris, and me.
Ryan and Cris shared another look before Ryan’s gaze found mine, and seeing there was still a fire burning in his gaze, I readied myself, not sure if I wanted to hear whatever he was about to drop, because that was the look he had on his face.
I straightened up.
“I wasn’t here for the start, but I can guess what happened before I showed up. If you don’t ask, he won’t tell you.” He was referencing Cris. “But if Mac dumped me, then began hooking up with a guy, and I had to see that shit, and then when I got my girl back, and that same dude came around—I can tell you that the guy wouldn’t be walking away looking like he’s about to fucking start whistling. Just saying.”
I felt slapped by those words.
He went inside, and I tipped my head back so I could see Cris better. “Where?”
Where had he seen Jude and me?
“I thought we—we were in another world. Jude and his band, that was another world. It’s why—”
“Yeah.” He glanced down, his jaw clenching. “The music world.”
Exactly, but. . .
Oh.
Oh, no.
I remembered.
Cris loved music as well. It’s another one of the reasons we got along, debating the classics. He mentioned taking an independent study in music. “You signed up for that class?”
“I signed up for that independent study. Needed a professor who’d work with my basketball schedule.”
God. “So you saw us there?”
His jaw clenched again. “Saw enough.” He glanced in the direction Jude had gone, and I felt the simmering heat come from him. “Saw enough to know that I’ll never listen to that douche’s music.”
Guilt pressed down on all the other emotions already there, taking root in me, and none of them were going to move away until I processed it all. This, right now, this would’ve been a time when I needed to numb myself. With sex. With alcohol. With other things. Whatever worked.
Feeling all of it in me, hurting me, I rasped out, “If I could go back—”
“No.” Cris moved in, his front against my front, and he leaned his forehead to mine. His body was so tight, so tense. His own tension making him feel like cement. “Listen.” A woosh of air left him, and with that so much of his tension left. His hand lifted, cupping the side of my face. He said softly, “I don’t do regrets. Okay? Don’t let that shit fester in you. I had an uncle who lived only in regret. I don’t think it helped him, so I hate that emotion. I won’t feel it, and I don’t want you to feel it. What happened, happened. The only good thing about looking back is learning how to do things better. Let’s do that instead?” His head lifted, his eyes still holding mine.