I smiled. “Right. Good advice.” I put the packet into my backpack, prepared to not look at again until I absolutely had to. “Thanks-”
“Oh, wait,” she stopped me, her face turning red again. “I’m sorry. The packet is only part of it.”
Awesome. I sat back in the chair and waited.
Ms. Jackson cleared her throat, something I realized she did when she was nervous. “Another part of the program requires a certain number of hours of community service-”
My eyes bulged. Community service? What the hell!
Ms. Jackson noticed my expression and hurried to reassure me. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, I promise. And I have a project in mind I think you might enjoy.”
“Okay, what is it?” I didn’t want to be a jerk, but come on. Community service? Wasn’t that for delinquents?
“Basically, it’s mentorship for a student over at the middle school. You would go over there during your flex period twice a week and share your talent for music.”
Music didn’t sound so bad. “So, I’d what? Teach guitar or something?”
Ms. Jackson nodded. “Yeah, if you want. Or you could sing. Piano. Whatever the two of you decide. As long as you provide a positive role model with a focus on music. Twice a week for the semester and you’d have all your hours finished before Christmas. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.” I rose from the desk, ready to join the guys in the practice room and forget all about Ms. Jackson and graduation requirements and lose myself in making music. “Thanks, Ms. Jackson, that sounds kind of fun.” Or at least better than picking up garbage on the highway.
She stood up as well. “Great. I still need to meet with someone from the middle school to determine which kids will participate in the program. I’ll let you know when I know. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good. Thanks again,” I said and then made my way to the practice room.
Jarom, Adam, and Bash worked on one of my songs. Once they found out I wrote my own music, they begged to hear some of it. We’d chosen three to begin working on together, adding harmony and including percussion. Jarom had the idea to work on a few songs until we had them the way we wanted them, then put them up on YouTube. I didn’t know about all that, but I loved how the first song sounded once we put it all together.
“Man, this sounds so good,” Adam said when I walked in.
“I can’t believe you aren’t already doing gigs.” Bash shook his head from behind his drum set. “What’s holding you back?”
“I told you guys, my dad.” I slung my guitar strap over my shoulder and played the first chords of the song they’d been working on while I talked to Ms. Jackson. “I like what you did with that last part, Adam. Let’s start from the top. I want to hear it again. I had an idea.”
Happy to not discuss my dad and his lack of support for my passion, I went right into the song.
“Whoa, that sounded so much better.” Jarom held out his knuckles.
I tapped them with mine. “We practice a few more times like that and then I say we record it.”
“This is going to be so epic,” Jarom said.
I didn’t think so at first, but now, I kind of thought he might be right.
After school, I found myself walking slowly toward the exit. I hadn’t tested Jordan’s patience by parking in her spot again, but since I had to take my guitar case in every day, I tried to arrive early enough to get a close spot. That morning, the space beside Jordan had been available and I’d taken it.
My eyes scanned the sea of heads bobbing down the hall toward the door leading to the student parking lot for her particular shade of blonde. Since the incident at practice with Leo, I’d told myself Jordan didn’t want anything to do with me and I needed to leave her alone. Easier said than done. Apparently, I’d become a bit obsessed with a certain tomboy.
Finally, I saw her several feet in front of me and quickened my pace until nobody separated us. I followed her out the door to the parking lot where the noise from the hall dissipated and a quiet sound reached my ear.
Chapter Six
Jordan
I’d fallen asleep the night before with Asher’s song stuck in my head. At different times during the day, I’d caught myself humming the tune, a happy little distraction from the turmoil I’d been experiencing worrying about my little brother. Thank goodness for Friday!
With Asher’s melody running through my mind, I burst through the double doors, immediately shedding some of the tension I’d been carrying around since the night before.
“Hey!” Asher’s voice, accompanied by his hand on my shoulder, pulled me to a stop in the middle of the school parking lot.
“What’s your problem?”I asked, pointedly glaring at his hand me.
He dropped it like I’d burned him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. I was just-” He ran his fingers through his hair.
“Just what?” He’d scared the crap out of me, grabbing me like that out of nowhere.
“You were humming,” he said.
I rolled my eyes and moved out of the flow of traffic leaving the parking lot toward my own car. “That’s a federal offense or something?” I said over my shoulder.
Asher pressed his lips into a thin line and followed me. “No, but piracy is. You were humming my tune and I want to know where you heard it.”
Oh.
Crap.
Heat flooded my cheeks. My neck. My whole body. I busied myself with putting my backpack in my car while I tried to come up with something to say.
“I, um, how do you know I didn’t just make it up?” I squeezed my eyes shut with my back to him and hoped he wouldn’t press me.
“Because I listened for more than a couple of bars, Jordan. You hummed the entire first verse and chorus of the song I wrote in my backyard last night.”
I opened my eyes to find him standing in front of me, hands on his hips.
I bit my lip.
“Mind explaining how that’s possible?” he asked.
He’d caught me. I’d have to tell him the truth. But how? And how humiliating. Why had I never considered the eventuality of this moment?
“Uh,” I stuttered.
Asher hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and waited, one brow lifted, for me to explain myself.
Furiously, I tried to come up with something less stalker-ish than I listen to you sing every night through my open bedroom window, sometimes in a towel.
I settled for, “I heard you.”
His mouth dropped open. “What? How could you have heard me?” His eyes widened as though he’d just thought of something. “Were you spying on me?”
Oh, gosh! It sounded so terrible when he said it like that!
I closed my eyes and shook my head. “No,” I hedged. “Not really.”
He stared at me, clearly perplexed. “Not really? What does that even mean?”
My cheeks burned as though they’d been dipped in lava.
“I live in the house behind you,” I blurted.
Asher opened his mouth and then closed it again before changing his mind one more time and asking, “You what?”
This sucked so bad!
I repeated what I’d told him. “I live in the house behind yours.” And since he still seemed a bit confused, I continued. “My bedroom faces the back yard.”
His mouth snapped shut. He regarded me for a long, awkward moment.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted again. Actually… “I’m not sorry I heard you.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m just sorry for listening without your permission.”
He didn’t say anything for so long, I suddenly became aware of where we were. The parking lot had thinned considerably in the time we’d been talking. Most of the remaining cars belonged to athletes who stayed for practice. Only a handful of people still walked to their cars. Everyone else had already left.
“Let me get this straight. You live,” he paused until I met his gaze again. “In the house behi
nd mine and you what?”
I waited for him to fill in the blank or at least offer me some options, but he didn’t. Instead, he just stood there, his brows lifted expectantly.
I decided to give into my embarrassing fate. “It was an accident, hearing you the first time. I’d just gotten out of the shower,” his lips parted just the slightest bit. I could have probably left that particular detail out of my story. Whatever. “My room was hot and so I opened the window. That’s when I heard you playing your guitar.”
“When was this?”
“The first day of school,” I whispered.
He blinked. “And you’ve been listening,” he left the question open.
“Pretty much every day while I do my homework,” I admitted, my cheeks blazing with the heat of the sun.
Slowly, so very slowly, his impossibly long lashes lowered to his cheeks before lifting again. “You’ve been listening to me sing every night and I didn’t even know?”
I nodded, the movement jerky. He had every right to be upset. I’d invaded his privacy by eavesdropping. I should have closed my window when I heard him that first time and resisted the temptation every day after.
My heart raced as I waited for him to say something. Anything.
Our gazes held for what felt like an eternity. In that time, Asher’s expression went from angry to curious to something else entirely.
My heart beat faster.
His perfect features softened, one side of his mouth lifted. He stepped so close our bodies brushed. I thought about backing away from him, but my feet wouldn’t work.
“I’m flattered,” he murmured, his voice low.
Heat flooded my body at his closeness, but I couldn’t forget. We weren’t friends. “Don’t be.”
His eyes lit with amusement. “You were humming my song. You must like it.”
Liked it? I freaking loved it.
I shook my head. “Lots of annoying songs get stuck in my head.” I ticked a few off on my fingers. “The Song That Never Ends. Let it Go. Gangnam Style. Anything by Taylor Swift.”
His lips twitched. “I like Taylor Swift.”
“You would.”
Asher chuckled low under his breath and took a step away from me toward his car. “I concede. That round goes to you.” He shook his head and chuckled again. “See you at practice.”
Asher
I got into my car hoping I appeared more confident than I felt. Jordan had been listening to me sing? Every night? She lived in the house behind ours? My mind raced with the implications. The possibilities. Hell, I’d never fall asleep in my own bed again knowing she slept less than a hundred yards away.
And what about my evening jam session? Would I be able to play wondering if she listened? She had no idea the effect she had on me. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the idea of us together since the moment I laid eyes on her. Now, I knew we were neighbors, and she’d been listening to me sing and play. All I wanted was the chance to show her what could be.
But would she give me that chance?
I laughed to myself again. Jordan wanted to like me, I knew it. But she wouldn’t let herself.
Why?
Did she still hold it against me? Those first couple of days when I parked in her spot? Or did she hold a grudge because of that day at practice when I mistakenly tried to defend her from that jerk, Leo? He still bugged her at school. I wanted to pound him.
I parked at the rink and hurried inside to change. Coach Parks took practice seriously. His teams won because he made them put in the work. I’ve always worked hard at hockey. I had to or I’d have to answer to my dad. Maybe I needed to not worry about Jordan. Or girls in general. I had school, hockey, my own music, not to mention Jarom’s band. Adding a relationship seemed kind of crazy. Not that it even was an issue.
Still, should I give up on her? Call me romantic, but I believed in relationships. Love. And while I’d never lacked for female attention, no one had ever made me feel the way Jordan did.
I tried to ignore her during practice, but she didn’t make it easy. I loved watching her skate. I couldn’t get enough of how tough she played. Jarom hadn’t been kidding, Jordan was hella intimidating.
Still, neither of us needed the attention we’d draw if I gave into temptation to skate beside her during drills. I’d want to flirt with her.
I snorted to myself. Her dad and brother would appreciate that, for sure. I couldn’t risk my own position on the team by ticking them off because I had the hots for Jordan.
Didn’t keep my eyes from finding her, however. Her blonde ponytail made her easy to spot. She played with intensity, her passion for the game evident every time she stepped onto the ice. What she lacked in stature, she made up for with quickness and stealth.
Of course, Jordan had already left by the time I reached my car in the parking lot. We didn’t live far from the rink, but this time instead of turning down our street, I took the road before it, curious to see where exactly Jordan lived. Sure enough, her beat up car sat in the driveway of the house directly behind mine.
What were the odds?
Not wanting to get caught behaving like a stalker, I continued home. Shari’s mom-mobile and Dad’s sleek sports car took up the driveway, so I parked on the street.
“How was practice?” Shari asked with a bright smile when I walked into the kitchen.
“Good,” I replied with a smile at Caleb who sat in his high chair. His little feet kicked and his hands waved as he blew spit bubbles at the sight of me. What a cute kid.
“Can I get him out?” I always asked if she had him strapped into something. Sometimes picking him up when he was content just made him mad.
“Sure,” Shari said.
“Come here, bud.” Caleb’s limbs flailed furiously the closer I got and when I held out my arms, he started doing this squealing thing he did when he got excited.
“He’s glad to see you,” Shari laughed, shaking her head at him.
“I’m glad to see him, too.” I blew a raspberry on Caleb’s neck making him giggle, so I did it again. His hands slapped at my cheeks. “Ow!” I yelped. “I’m gonna get you for that.” I tucked one of his arms under mine and held the other with my hand then tickled his belly with my face. Caleb’s body writhed as he laughed.
“That’s torture!” Shari poked my ribs making me jump out of her reach. “You don’t like being tickled!”
At all. I hated being tickled. But Caleb loved it. Even though he squirmed to get away from me when I tickled him, he’d get mad if I stopped.
“He loves it,” I told her before nuzzling his fleshy neck with my chin. I could listen to my little brother giggle all day long, he was so cute. “I can let him crawl around my room for a bit while you finish dinner,” I offered. Caleb liked getting into all my stuff and I didn’t mind having him around.
“That would be great. Just make sure he doesn’t put anything in his mouth,” she warned.
“Don’t worry. I’ve Caleb-proofed my room.” And I’d check the floor again before putting him down.
“Alright, then. Thanks, Asher.” Shari turned back to dinner preparations and I hauled Caleb up to my room and shut the door. If I didn’t he’d crawl out and try to fall down the stairs. He and I had been working on going down backwards but sometimes he still tried to go down head first and that was a visit to the hospital waiting to happen.
“‘Kay, bud, here you go.” I set him on the carpet with a few of his toys from the last time he came to visit my room and a handful of things he probably shouldn’t have like my magic 8-ball and the remote to my television, but he loved to play with them and I made sure to keep an eye on him.
“Ba!” Caleb shouted, bringing both fists down at his sides.
“Okay, okay, sheesh,” I muttered as I rolled the 8-ball across the short distance between us on the carpet. He picked it up and immediately brought it to his mouth. It was too big to fit, of course, so he basically just slobbered all over it, but I didn’t care.
Caleb and I played with his toys for a little while, but then he got distracted with a pile of socks (they were clean!) and I wandered over to my window. My bedroom sat on the corner at the back of the house and it had two windows, one facing the side yard and one facing the back. Standing by the one facing the backyard, I could clearly see the house behind ours, the one where Jordan lived. She said her bedroom faced her backyard and I took a few minutes to study each of the three windows on the upper level of the Parks’s house. One was clearly a bathroom, it had frosted glass and was too small to be a bedroom. But the other two were similar enough I had no idea which one might be Jordan’s.
Since she told me where she lived, I’d been thinking of a way to get her to hang out with me. I doubted it would be as simple as asking her, so I needed a plan. And hopefully, the one I’d come up with would work.
Chapter Seven
Jordan
Nothing like another tense evening in the Parks household. Payton didn’t look up from his plate once, making quick work of his dinner, before escaping to his room as soon as possible. After helping Mom clean up the dinner dishes, I did the same thing. I’d only had a few math problems for homework and finished them during advising. With no homework to distract me, I caught myself dwelling on the conversation I’d had with Asher in the parking lot after school more than I wanted to.
Beyond the embarrassment of getting caught humming the song he’d been playing in his backyard the night before, I didn’t know what to think about the way he made me feel. There was no use denying I wanted him to kiss me, but every time I thought about giving in to the attraction I felt, I remembered my rule and why it existed in the first place.
Think about it. Why did people always say you shouldn’t date your boss? Or your brother’s best friend? Or the nanny? Because it put something important on the line. A job. A friendship. A child’s wellbeing. Same thing with dating a teammate. It put the team on the line, brought romantic drama where there shouldn’t be. I had a dream to play competitive hockey at the highest level. Playing for my dad gave me the best shot. The kinds of feelings I had for Asher threatened everything I’d been working for.
Playing to Win (The Trouble with Tomboys Book2) Page 6
