Page 2 of King of Rhythm
Because if I don’t respond, if I don’t meet him, then I can hold on to this happiness for a while longer. This moment where Avery Kingsley, the too-tall, plain wallflower, gets the super-hot guy. Instead of finding out that I’m the butt of yet another joke.
But I can’t explain that to Sarah. She’d never understand.
“I’m not sure that I want to meet him,” I lie, keeping my eyes stubbornly on the grimy table.
“Well, he seems pretty eager to meet you. He already responded.”
My gaze flies up, my eyes whipping from her devious grin to the phone’s screen that is turned to me.
Horror and relief war within me that she took the matter out of my hands. I make a desperate grab for my drink and slurp the tart liquid through the straw, finishing it in several gulps. Only then do I take the phone from her and quickly read over her message to him and his reply.
AVERY: Can’t wait!!!!
BRYCE: Then, why wait? Tonight?
I would never use that amount of exclamation points is my first thought. Followed closely by Oh My… he wants to meet me. Tonight!
My vision swims and I feel faint. I want to blame the alcohol. Though it’s not that.
Sarah’s hand squeezes my arm and when I blink, her concerned face slowly comes back into focus. “Hey, are you okay? He’s not a dick, is he? I can come along with you, or we can just block him.”
“No!” I clutch the phone protectively to my chest and know I’m acting like an idiot, yet I can’t seem to regulate my emotions. “He’s the furthest thing from a dick.”
Swallowing hard, I grope for my drink and suck on the straw. When my panicky slurps bring up nothing, I pull it away from my face and stare in confusion at the mostly empty glass. Shoving the straw to the side, I tilt the glass and let a few ice cubes slide into my mouth and suck on those.
Sarah’s eyes grow even wider behind her glasses, and she takes the empty drink from my trembling hand. “Oh my. You have it bad.” She gives a little wiggle, her grin growing. “This should be good.”
CHAPTER TWO
BRYCE
The black drum case crashes into my shoulder as my phone chimes a message alert and I stumble back. For a moment, I rest the drum against the tall wooden instrument shelving that stretches the length of the band room. Hoisting the drum again, I stretch up and shove the hard-sided case into its allotted slot. It would have been easier with a stepstool, except then I might have fallen and risked damaging more than just my ego. Once again, my stubbornness paid off.
I dig my phone out of my pocket the moment the case is safely stored and roll my tense shoulders. I’m half afraid my hopes are soon to be dashed.
It’s Tuesday, so we were going to be talking later anyway, still something in me simply couldn’t wait and I had to message her the thought that’s been buzzing around inside me for days now. I’m impatient as hell, so I’m shocked I waited as long as I did. The minute the text was sent, relief coursed through me, and I thought I was good to get on with my day.
Except the minutes stretched into hours with no response from Avery. And I began to seriously question whether I misread the situation.
Sadly, it wouldn’t be the first time that I had made that error in judgement. Still, optimism pulls at me, and I open the message.
AVERY: Can’t wait!!!
I don’t even try to muffle my whoop of delight or my fist pump. It’s late and only a handful of other teachers remain in the school. Plus, the band room is situated in a corner of the building, isolating it from the other classrooms. Besides, if anyone heard me, one look at my face would tell them that I’m happy, not in any danger.
I type out a fast reply and start packing up my bag, periodically glancing at my phone as nervous excitement pulses through me.
Walking across the parking lot to my black SUV, several track and field middle school students jog by and call out greetings that I happily return. My ready grin fades when Avery still hasn’t responded by the time I pull out of the school.
Maybe I was too pushy? Too eager?A sigh eases out of me, and I crank the music louder and head home.
Usually, music relaxes me. Not now. It’s hard to shake this funk. It’s been a long time since I was this interested in a woman. Especially one I haven’t even met yet.
My laugh overpowers the music and I shake my head. Sure, we haven’t met in person, but all the texts and the phone calls make me feel like I do know Avery. And that picture of her. I shift in the seat, my mind going to her shy smile, and heat blazes through me. I could happily wake up to that smile for the rest of my life.
To hell with texting, I’ll call her.I should have done that in the first place with such an important question. My fingers hover over the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel.But not while I’m in traffic,I think, shifting my hand to grip the wheel. At home, free of distractions, I’ll call.
That thought firmly in mind makes the almost thirty minute drive almost enjoyable. When an old song that played such a huge part of my life comes on, I don’t even change it. Instead, Ising the backup vocals and can’t help chuckling as I flub a few of the lyrics.
