Play Only For Me: (A New Adult Romance)

by R. B. O'Brien

  “First question is our names,” Lauren finally said. “Can you tell me that, Colton? Colton what?”

  “Colton none of your business. Next question.”

  She sighed, and he watched the rise and fall of her chest. He wished she would take that ridiculous sweatshirt off. Preppy pullover. He’d like to pull it over her head right there, right then, forcing her arms to stay in it immobilized while he did dirty things to what lay beneath it.

  “Fine. I don’t really care what your name is,” she shot back.

  “Good. Next question. What do you like the most about music?”

  She seemed to relax. “Everything. I like all types of music, artists. I’m in awe of people who can write music, who can put their emotions onto paper like that, who can find the right notes or words to convey it…”

  He found her voice soft, sweet even, nothing like the gravelly resonance of his own he hated but had to admit was good for the alt-rock he liked to write and play. He watched her mouth as she spoke. He shifted in his seat to reposition the discomfort he was feeling between his legs.

  “What about you?”

  “Huh?”

  “You? What do you like the most about music?”

  “Making it,” he said abruptly. “Next. What’s your first memory that makes you happy?”

  She stared at him, looking pensive. “Hmmm…”

  “Oh, Christ, Lauren. You don’t have to take this assignment so seriously. Jesus. It’s busywork.” He hated that he was getting caught up in actually wanting to know her.

  “Fine, but I don’t want to hand something in that’s stupid or rushed. So…the first memory I can think of that makes me happy is when I fell off my bike at five and my dad kissed my knee and then let me eat as much ice cream as I wanted.” She giggled. “And then I threw it all up.”

  Lauren smiled inwardly at the memory. It was such an innocent time. A time before her sister. A time before the sadness.

  “How sweet for you.”

  “What about you?” she asked, becoming more than annoyed.

  “When my dad was finally thrown in prison.”

  She stilled. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh. I’m…sorry. My answer seems so…”

  “Stupid?”

  “No…”

  “Spoiled?”

  “Colton…”

  “Don’t talk to me like that,” he snapped.

  “Like what?” She was sick to her stomach.

  “Like you feel sorry for me or that you think you’re better than me.”

  “I don’t think that. I don’t think that at all. I don’t even know you.”

  “And you’re not going to.”

  “Fine by me,” she snapped back. “Suit yourself. But that wasn’t what I was thinking. At all.”

  She stifled her emotions somehow, thinking to herself that what she meant to say was that she had things like that too, not-so-pretty memories, memories too close to the surface and that it was he who didn’t know her.

  College was supposed to be fun, she thought. But instead, she felt alone and miserable. She didn’t know anybody. This boy was cruel to her, and she’d have to see him every day she had this class. And damn it, she was so drawn to him. For some odd reason she couldn’t explain, she wanted to get to know him.

  She felt his hands on hers, and she startled. She looked into his eyes, and she thought she saw something other than utter disdain for her. Guilt? Regret? She couldn’t look away, and she began to well up.

  “Hey,” he said, and he brushed her cheek with his fingers.

  She drew in a sharp breath, now terrified to look into his too-perfect face.

  “I’m sorry,” he said so low, she wasn’t sure if she heard him right.

  “Okay, everyone. Time’s up for today,” the professor broke in. “We’ll pick this up again next class. See you then. Tonight, reread the syllabus, get acquainted with my expectations, come to class with questions, and then get ready to open up and become artists.”

  In a flash, Colton was beside Angela, arm linked around her waist, leaving Lauren sitting in her seat, feeling more alone than ever.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The first week came and went. Lauren was exhausted from her first week of classes. She had crashed hard Friday night, barely able to remember going to sleep. Her schedule was full—English and Statistics on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Modern Dance, Music Expression, and Psych on Mondays and Wednesdays. Luckily, Colton hadn’t been in class on Wednesday, so they didn’t have to finish their questionnaire. Angela hadn’t been in class either. They were probably together, Lauren guessed, having sex or doing whatever tattooed musicians do.

  “Oh, come on, Lauren!” Lauren’s roommate Beth said. “You’re coming. It’s Saturday night. I’ll look out for you. I promise. You have to come to the party. Part of college is partying. Don’t tell me you’ve never had a drink either?”

  “I’ve had drinks before, at special occasions, at weddings, my parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary.”

  “Oh god, Lauren. Is there anything you’re not a virgin at?”

  “Stop it, Beth. It’s been a long week. Why does everyone seem to be so concerned with my virgin status?”

  “What? Like who? I was just kidding. Geez, Lauren.”

  “Yeah, you and everyone else.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “I don’t know. Nothing. Nobody. Just some really…I don’t know…this guy in my Music Expression class. Colton somebody. I don’t know his last name.”

  “Colton Masters?”

  “I told you. I don’t know. All I know is he’s an asshole. Rude. Mean.”

  She laughed. “Sounds like Masters. Blond hair? Muscular? Tat’s? Big, brown eyes? Hot?”

  “I don’t know,” she lied. That would have been her exact description. “I didn’t notice.”

  “Yeah, right! No one could be within fifty feet of him without noticing. Music is his thing, so I’m sure it was him.”

  “Anyway. I’m going to shower and rent a movie or something and just chill.”

  “No. No, you’re not. You’re coming with me, I’ll keep an eye on you, and I’ll get you back here in an Uber or something safely. I promise.”

  She moaned. “Fine.”

  “Great. Go take your shower then. We’ll leave in an hour or so.”

  Lauren was actually a bit excited. It would be her first college party. She hoped to make some new friends. Her roommate was turning out to be pretty cool, even if Lauren’s complete opposite, and besides her encounter with Colton, she liked her classes and her professors.

  They cranked Beth’s smartphone to shuffle her music as they got ready. Lauren had decided on dark skinny jeans, a long white tank top, and high, black boots. She finished off with a light-grey, fitted linen blazer from Abercrombie and a white, cotton scarf.

  “Here. Let me put a bit more eye make-up on you,” Beth said. Lauren had put on a little blush, some mascara, and lip gloss, but she’d never been a big fan of make-up. “Your eyes are so amazing. We need to show them off. What color are they anyway?”

  Lauren laughed. “They seem to change color based on what I’m wearing or feeling I swear. I hate them.”

  “You’re crazy. I would kill for anything but my shit-brown eyes. Shit-brown hair.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. She thought Beth was gorgeous. “Yeah, well, I would kill for straight hair like yours,” Lauren said, honestly. “You can do anything with it. If I tried to cut mine short like yours, it would probably frizz up like little Orphan Annie.”

  Beth burst out laughing. “You’re crazy. So, what? You don’t want me to put some eye shadow on you, Annie? You’d rather wait until…what? Tomorrow! Betcha bottom dollar that tomorrow…they’ll be eye shadow…just thinking about…eye shadow…”

  Beth belted the song, sounding like a squealing pig in heat, and Lauren conceded. “Alright, alright! If it’ll get you to stop singing!”
<
br />   They both cracked up laughing.

  “See? That’s the spirit. I’ll only put on a little. And some eyeliner…and…take your hair out of that bun! God, Lauren. Trust me. Your hair is your weapon.”

  “Oh, stop it. I’ll let you do my eyes. That’s it.”

  “Fine. Fine. I guess it’s good to have guys imagine ripping your hair out of this thing.” She flicked Lauren’s bun.

  “You’re a sex-fiend.” Lauren laughed.

  “You’ve got me there,” Beth agreed. “Voilà. Look at how green your eyes look now?”

  Lauren loved the look. Her eyes looked smoldering. Sexy. Large. She was pleased with the outcome.

  “Come on. The Uber should be here any minute.” Beth grabbed her hand and pulled Lauren out the door. Lauren couldn’t help but freeze. “What?” Beth asked.

  “That’s a short skirt, Beth.”

  “Yup!” She giggled. “I hope to get laid.”

  ****

  Lauren couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable as they walked up the cement stairs to the unknown house party. Students were sitting on the steps, red plastic cups in their hands. Some alone, some in virtual sex acts, some laughing with friends. The dance music seemed to make the old house move in time to the heavy bass, like it was alive.

  “Beth!” A tall and skinny redhead opened the door. Lauren thought she looked quite intimidating, and like Beth, she also wore an equally short skirt. “Who’s this?” She looked Lauren up and down and frowned.

  “This is my roommate, Lauren.”

  “Hi, Lauren. I’ll let you in this time, but fuck. You’ve got that good girl meets sex goddess thing going on. Stay away from my boyfriend, or I’ll have to kick your ass.”

  Lauren went to say something, suddenly thinking that coming to this party was a bad idea, but then both Beth and the redhead broke out laughing. The redhead stuck out her hand. “I’m just kidding. Welcome. I’m Stephanie. Nice to meet you.”

  Lauren tried to smile but felt uneasy. “Nice to meet you…” She almost asked it.

  “Damn,” Stephanie said. “Where did you find this one?”

  “Oh, lighten up. Don’t worry. We’ll corrupt her.” Beth winked at Lauren.

  Stephanie laughed, touching Lauren’s hair that still lay in a bun atop her head. “You’re fucking too much.” She spun Lauren around. “You’re a fucking walking, contradictory wet dream.”

  “Um…” Lauren blushed, uncomfortable. She wanted to run out the door. And then she stopped in her tracks as she looked into the kitchen they’d entered and saw him, leaning against the counter, Angela against him, her ass lodged between his legs. He was drinking out of one of those red cups, flashing his smile all over the place, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “What’s wrong?” Beth asked, noticing Lauren’s deer-in-the-headlights stance.

  “That’s him,” she whispered.

  Beth’s smile was slow and deliberate. “Yup. Colton Masters. Yummmm…mee.”

  “No. Not yummy. I don’t want him to see me.”

  “Too late. Looks like he’s coming over. Probably not a good idea to stand next to the keg, Lauren, especially if you’re not going to drink.” Lauren hadn’t even noticed that she froze right next to the beer keg.

  “Hi Colton,” Beth said as he approached the keg.

  “Beth.” He nodded, holding up his cup and then lowering it to refill it. He didn’t say a word to Lauren. “Can I pour you a beer?” he asked Beth.

  “Yeah, sure. Thanks,” she said, passing her cup to Colton. “Lauren? You want one?” Beth asked holding out a cup to Lauren.

  “Oh, no. Thank you. I’ll just watch.”

  Colton broke down laughing. “You like to watch? I didn’t take you for that kind of a girl. Lauren…right?”

  She damn well knew he knew her name and that he’d heard Beth say it only moments before. “You’re so witty, aren’t you?” Lauren bit back.

  “I’m lots of things,” he said, moving to put little space between them.

  “Lay off, Masters,” Beth said, taking Lauren by the elbow. “Come on. Don’t let him get to you.”

  But Lauren couldn’t help herself and stared at him again. He had slicked back his hair off his face, and she could really see it fully now. It was more breathtaking than she remembered. He towered over her and wore another white shirt, but this time it was a button-down, slightly wrinkled, untucked, rolled at the sleeves. He had a cross tattoo on the inside of his forearm that she hadn’t noticed in class, too busy trying to focus on the questionnaire and not stare at him. It mesmerized her. She realized she wasn’t breathing normally.

  He shook his head at her and walked away, back over to Angela.

  Lauren had noticed in class that Angela had tattoos too, but only one was visible right then on her back shoulder. It was impossible to make out what it was. Her hair was jet black, short, and spiked. Lauren was sure it was not her natural color. Lauren thought Angela striking, but she had a tough edge to her, with piercing blue eyes and a muscular, lean body, a body Lauren envied. She understood why Colton would be attracted to someone like her. She carried herself with confidence, wasn’t afraid to speak up, and certainly didn’t think college was the scariest event of her life.

  “You done drooling?” Beth asked.

  “What? I wasn’t drooling. I don’t know what you’re…”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Don’t worry. You’re not alone. There’s not one fucking girl in here who doesn’t want to fuck his brains out or hasn’t already. Word on the street is that he’s the best lay in the whole fucking school, maybe the state.”

  Lauren was appalled. “Well, I’m a fucking girl, and I have no desire to sleep with him.”

  “Uh-huh. Whatever you say. Sure you don’t want to try a drink?”

  “I’m sure. Not yet, anyway. Maybe one later.”

  “Okay. Need to run to the bathroom. Be right back.”

  Lauren stood there, alone, knowing she was fidgeting as usual. She inched backward, away from the kitchen where the keg was and bumped into someone, and beer went spilling everywhere.

  “Fuck! Watch where you’re going you a-hole,” a girl spewed at Lauren.

  “Oh. God. I’m so sorry. Let me get you some paper towels or something.” Lauren ran into the kitchen to get the paper towels, only to run right into Colton and Angela in the middle of a tongue-hockey tournament. Of course they had to be right next to the paper towels. Angela was moaning obnoxiously. “Let’s get outta here,” she whispered to him, stopping to nip his lip.

  “Um…can you…excuse me…I need to get…” Lauren interrupted clumsily.

  “Hey, Colton.” Angela removed her lips from Colton’s for a second. “Isn’t that your music partner?”

  Colton smiled.

  “So…so…sorry, guys,” Lauren stuttered. “I just spilled beer on someone, and I just need to get...her some paper towels.” She tried not to look into their faces as she leaned over the counter to reach the paper towels on the shelf above the sink. Colton purposely moved directly in her way. She looked up into his taunting eyes as she struggled to reach the towels.

  “You sure you didn’t come in here to watch?” He teased her, and she shriveled, humiliated. She had been watching them.

  “No. I told you. I spilled…”

  He relented. “You want some help?” She wasn’t sure if he was teasing her.

  “Yes. Please. If you don’t mind.” Lauren felt her face flush as she got off her tippy toes to take the red cup Colton passed over for her to hold.

  With ease and grace, he pulled down the paper towels, and just then, the victim of the beer spill entered the kitchen in a huff. “If I knew you were going to take so fucking long…Jesus…” She looked at Colton, and her whole demeanor changed. “Oh, hi, Colton.”

  “Hi, Kendall,” he said, holding out the paper towels to her.

  “Thank you,” she said, wiping her chest and looking up into his eyes. Lauren began to sneak out. Jesus. Did ever
y girl react this way to him?

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Colton grabbed Lauren’s arm, and she felt warm, too warm. She felt something shoot through her whole body. Her belly clenched, and her face grew hot. She was having trouble breathing. She couldn’t look at him for fear that he would see her deepest, darkest secret.

  “Um…” she couldn’t get out a sentence, a word.

  He chuckled. “My beer?”

  “Oh.” She laughed nervously, embarrassed yet again, that stupid blush taking residence on her cheeks. “Sorry.”

  “You want it?” he asked, tilting up her face by her chin with fingers Lauren could really see now, strong and calloused, probably from all that guitar playing. His touch sent sparks all through her body. Shit. Her whole body trembled.

  “It?” she squeaked.

  “My beer? Do you want it? I can get another one,” he said plainly, but what he was truly thinking was that he actually felt a little bad for Lauren, having to deal with a prima donna like Kendall. Truthfully, Colton was having a boring time...until now.

  “Oh,” she said again, embarrassed. “No. I’m not drinking.”

  He looked at her and removed his fingers from her chin, and he swiftly took his cup back. “What did you think I meant?” he asked, slightly amused.

  “Nothing. I didn’t…I forgot I was holding your beer.”

  “Oh,” he said curtly and feeling sorry for her vanished, remembering who he was talking to, little miss rich, perfect girl, the kind of people he loathed.

  “And you’re not drinking,” he continued. “Of course you’re not drinking. Not you. No way. Not high-class enough for you? You don’t drink keg beer? What? Only the finest champagne for you, Lauren, and your kind?”

  Why is he being so cruel? She didn’t drink. Period.

  She let out her breath and walked away. She wasn’t in the mood for confrontation. She sat on a couch and waited for Beth to come back, but before she could, she watched a tall boy with brown hair and a physique she imagined most girls only thought could exist in dreams, come to sit beside her. “You need something? Something to drink?”