How to Seduce a Band Geek Page 6

  “I guess I’m taking you home?” he asks, and I shake my head, quickly sending a text to Zoe.

  “This was his house up until a few weeks ago. I’m seeing if Zoe knows where he lives now.”

  “Isn’t Brea’s address on the packet she filled out?”

  Oh, duh! I almost bound across the center console and hug him, but I smash my phone between my thighs and dig through my bag instead.

  When I get the address, I read it aloud and Adam nods as if he knows exactly where it is. Good, because I don’t recognize the street at all.

  “It’s still in the school zone, right?”

  He nods again, and takes me down a few winding roads and back to the kind of dodgy area in our neighborhood. We pass Adam’s place which is on the edge of middle and lower class, but it’s just him and his dad, so it’s not like they need a big place. He takes me to an apartment complex, and pulls in. I double check the address, which has no apartment number, and I’m suddenly wondering if my friend has decided to kidnap me.

  We pass over a speed bump, and behind the apartments is a trailer park. It’s not like I’m one of those people who will like you less for where you live, I’m just surprised when he pulls up to one and shuts the engine off.

  Brea’s sitting on the front step, blowing bubbles with her gum and drawing in a massive notebook. She doesn’t acknowledge me at all when I hop from the car.

  “Thanks, Adam,” I say, leaning in the window.

  “Yup. Text me if you need a ride home.”

  I turn around and look at Brea, who’s still ignoring me. “I will.” I look back at him. “And good luck with Sydney.”

  His lip twitches, and he starts the car again and drives off.

  Brea’s suddenly at my side as she watches me watch my friend drive away. “I’m going out,” she tells me, tucking her pencil into her braid on the back of her head. “Levi’s room is the first on the left, but really, he spends most of his time on the couch. I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “Wait…” I say, but she ignores me, bee-lining it down the road. I wanted to ask her questions, damn it. Guess she’s just giving me free roam of their house. Or trailer. Or whatever. Now I’m feeling weird about it.

  My eyes skim over the front door while my hands shake. I didn’t even know he moved. I don’t know what I’ll find when I go inside or even if I want to go about it like some crazy stalker girl rummaging through all his stuff. But my heart kind of hurts as I take in everything in front of me. I thought I knew Levi enough to like him the way I do.

  But Adam was totally right. I know pretty much nothing about this guy.

  Chapter 8

  How can I making puking attractive? Yeah…I so can’t.

  Crappit. I left my jacket in Adam’s car. I’m pretty sure my goose pimples can slice through a four by four. I rub my arms, fighting my head again about going into Levi’s place. Instead of darting inside and rummaging through all his stuff, I called Zoe and asked if she’d pick me up when she got off work. Then I planted my tooshy on the front step and tried not to say “screw it” and find out what kind of bed sheets Levi has.

  I’ve officially lost my mind. Got so wrapped up in my crush I was about to sneak around his house and through his things to get closer to him. I probably would’ve smelled his pillows and stolen a shirt. That is so not cute. That’s crazy! If he found out, he’d run so far and so fast he’d leave a Levi-shaped hole everywhere he went.

  Brea said she’d be back in an hour, but it’s been two, and she’s nowhere in sight. Part of me panics when I see an unfamiliar car because if Levi’s mom pulls up, I’ll turn into a fumbling mess. I don’t want to get Brea in trouble, so she better hurry back or Zoe better get off work soon so no one finds me freezing into a Sierra ice sculpture.

  I turn on my phone for the eightieth time, even though I know it’s still blank. I’ve pinned about two-hundred more photos for ideas on my next rip-and-tear project, and I’d usually bug Adam and Sydney since I’m bored to death. But better give them time to work out all that drama.

  I’d start walking home, except it’s starting to get late and rainy, and I’d get lost in that scary apartment lot.

  Maybe I should just go inside. Not to snoop, (or intending to snoop. Can’t help any accidents!) but to warm my body back up to normal temperature.

  No one can blame me for wanting to be warm.

  Yeah, I’m going in.

  I wipe my butt free of any dirt as I stand and pull on the screen door. It makes the loudest sound known to man, so I bolt in, instantly defrosting.

  “Ahhhhh…” A blissful smile pulls on my lips, and I close my eyes. Maybe I can find the furnace or whatever heats trailers and stick my rear right inside. I let my gaze skate over the living room. One couch, no TV, a small bookshelf. There’s a pile of shoes in the corner, and holy cow Levi has big feet! Well, at least compared to the tiny shoes that must be Brea’s.

  I’m about to check the size on those monstrosities. That’s not too crazy girl, is it?

  Then I hear it.

  Buzzing.

  The screen door practically breaks off the hinges as I swing myself out of the house and land in the nearest bush. A loud rip echoes in my ears, and a stab of pain shoots through my calf.

  Ouch, shit, damn, mother of heaven and hell! My teeth sink into my lip as I bring my ripped pant leg up and examine the large gouge left on my skin. I force myself to breathe evenly. Blood is not my friend. My stomach goes glug-glug just by looking at the scratch on my calf and ankle. It’s really not that bad (I don’t think), but it stings and droplets of deep, warm, red…oh gag me. Deep breath, push back the nausea, Sierra.

  My ears faintly register the buzzing of Levi’s moped. It’s mostly my stomach twisting and my own deep breathing as I yank my pant leg back down and press against my ankle. If I can stop the blood I can stop the puke too.

  The moped grows louder, then it shuts off altogether. I open one eye to make sure he walks on past without seeing my bleeding pathetic body in his front bush or whatever the hell evil plant this is I dove into. His cute helmet hair waves in the breeze as he hops up the one step leading into the trailer. Instead of going inside, he turns and sits, letting out a huge sigh and burying his face in his palms.

  Now I have to hold my breath because with the way I’m panting, he’ll hear me in a second. And he doesn’t exactly look like he wants an audience. No air is seriously causing issues in the stomach region. I’m getting so nauseous and light-headed, and something’s tickling my nostril hairs making me need to sneeze.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and whisper, “Blueberries, blueberries, blueberries…” I say it as fast as my mouth will allow, and it does the trick, forcing the sneeze back.

  “Sierra?”

  Damn it. Maybe the sneeze would’ve been quieter and less embarrassing.

  “Um, hey.”

  He peeks over the bush where I’m settled, his eyebrow disappearing into his hair and a slight smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

  That’s a good question. I clack my teeth and finger one of the sharp leaves on this death trap. “I was just, uh… looking at your bush.”

  Anything. I could’ve said anything but that, and it would’ve been better.

  He laughs and offers his hand out as he stands. I take it, wincing as I put pressure on my leg. A hiss slips through my teeth.

  “Whoa, you okay?” he says, inching closer to hold me steady.

  My face is on fire, I can’t breathe, and I’m bleeding out. All in front of this guy I seriously am obsessed with, at his house he never invited me to. I’m real peachy. Not.

  I cling to his arms, the muscles in them tensing underneath my fingers. When I finally force myself to look at him, his face looks like how mine feels.

  “S-Sierra?”

  Did I space out on him? How long has it been since I made a sound? “Um, yeah. I’m okay.”

  We drop our holds on each other, and the chill in the air washes over me like I ju
st stepped out of a pool. It feels good, cooling the heat through my neck and calming my stomach.

  “You look a little pale,” Levi says, scratching his nose. “Do you need to sit?”

  I shrug, a small dizzy spell hitting me again.

  “Yeah. Sit down.” He leads me to the step. “Stay here,” he orders with his hand held out like I’m a puppy dog. “I’ll be right back.”

  I slide out of the way so he can open the screen and disappear into the trailer. Ignoring the beating pulse in my ankle and the wet path my cut is creating under my pants, I take a few more breaths and close my eyes. Gross. I hope Zoe gets here so I can go home and take a shower.

  The screen opens again, and I scoot as Levi settles in next to me. He pushes a glass of ice water in my hands.

  “Thanks,” I mumble over the drink before taking a sip. He nods, eyebrows knit together in a perma-worried expression. I wish I wasn’t so dizzy and nauseous. I could appreciate that.

  “Better?” he asks after a minute.

  I take another sip and give him the best smile I can. “Yeah. Sorry, I get a little sick when there’s blood.”

  And there goes my mouth not knowing how to behave itself.

  “Blood?” His eyes skitter over my body, finally landing at my feet. His mouth pops open, and he yanks my pant leg up. “Holy shit, Sierra. What happened?”

  I knew it was worse than what I thought. I toss my head back and look at the graying sky. Not going to look at my leg, not going to pay attention to the wet pool collecting in my flip flop, not going to notice Levi’s hand pressing against the wound, or think about his fingers getting red just so he stops the flow of blood. That gross, disgusting, warm, red…

  Oh crap.

  I don’t have time to warn him. I shove him back, lean into the evil bush that caused the stupid stomach and head issues, and let out everything I ate today. My hand clutches around the glass he gave me, providing the only cold relief I desperately need. My stupid leg is all I can think about, and I heave again.

  I’m going to cry. This is the worst thing ever. He hasn’t even asked me what I’m doing here. He just comes home, probably hoping to eat something, and instead he has to deal with me puking in his bushes.

  I don’t have the energy to stop the dribbles of tears, which turn into rivers when I feel his hand wrap around my hair and hold it on top of my head. With his other hand he starts rubbing soothing circles around my back. How embarrassing, but he’s totally so sweet. I want to lean into his chest, but I’m afraid of another wave of nausea if I move too much.

  “Breathe, Sierra.”

  Has he been talking the whole time? My head refuses to focus on anything but the heat in my body. But my attention is slowly drifting to his hand, and the rhythms he creates against my back lets me take a few calming breaths and push away the dizzies.

  I take another sip of water, swish it around my mouth, and spit it back out. Then I settle on the front step again, rubbing my arms because now I’m shivering instead of overflowing with heat.

  Levi pats my knee. “Stay put. I’m gonna get something to clean you up.”

  Like, where am I going to go? I can barely move.

  I’m still not feeling too hot when he comes back, wet rag in hand.

  “Think you can handle this?” he asks, gesturing to my leg. “I don’t want to make you sick, but it’s a mess. We better see how deep it is, or if you’re just a… heavy bleeder.”

  “Ugh…” I moan and press my nose between my knees.

  “I’ll try to distract you.”

  If he’s not doing that naturally, I don’t know if he’ll be able to do that at all. I can’t even appreciate how amazing he’s being right now.

  “Here,” he says, sliding closer. I slowly sit upright, ignoring all the erratic thumps of my heart and flutters in my tummy, in case that’ll make things worse. He tucks his palm under my thigh, lifts my leg, and settles it over his.

  Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh. That’s distracting, yes. I’m sure as hell not thinking about blood. But it’s not helping my funked up insides.

  He offers me a delectable half smile, and the warm rag hits the skin on my ankle. “Okay, ask me something. Anything. I’ll talk about it as long as possible.”

  I cringe as he rubs the cloth up and down my leg. “Is it bad?”

  He stops, eyes filled with amusement. “Something to take your mind off your cut.”

  Oh! Duh, I’m a dork. “Um, okay.” I breathe in, and push back another wave of yuckies as his hand starts moving again. “What’s that thing you play in band?”

  “That would be a piccolo.” He winks, and I think I need a wink translator because I still have no idea what it means.

  I watch his face as he continues to rub my leg. “And what is that?”

  “Do you want me to show you?” he offers, mouth picking up at the corner. I nod my head into another dizzy spell. “Hang on.” He drops my leg and jogs to his moped. Under the seat is his little black case, and he jogs back to me. He takes my leg, plopping it over his again. The snaps click open under his fingers, and he gently pulls out this instrument that looks like it’s desperately trying to be a flute, but it missed its growth spurt.

  “The piccolo,” he says, setting it in my hand. It’s light, and made out of wood. I click the buttons a few times wishing I didn’t have the sudden urge to make out with the mouth hole just to get a taste of something Levi had his lips on.

  For some reason, I giggle as I put it up to my forearm. It is the same size.

  “Yeah, it’s…I’m still trying to adjust.” He scratches his nose before he starts wiping my leg again. I’d totally forgotten about it.

  “What happened to your drums?”

  He sighs, and I clack the piccolo keys for something to fill the sudden awkwardness in the air.

  “I sold them.”

  “You did what?” Holy word vomit. Must be aftereffects of actual vomit. His face gets all sad, and I immediately regret the entire drum question. “Sorry,” I mumble, then keep my eyes glued on a ladybug that just landed on the death bush.

  He shuffles, his elbow making contact with mine for a split second. “It’s okay. I don’t tell a lot of my friends about it.”

  “I’m your friend?” Shit, what is wrong with me?

  He knocks into my shoulder, bringing my gaze back to his beautiful face. “Of course you’re my friend. What did you think we were?”

  Yikes! I want to suck air into my cheeks, but I keep my face somewhat composed. “I don’t know. I guess I thought you and Zoe were friends, and that’s the only reason you talk to me, or that you’re nice to me and all that stuff. I mean, I consider you as my friend, don’t get me wrong, but I thought you thought I was too young to be cool enough to hang out with or talk to outside of school or you’d always come to see Zoe, but like, that’s not a bad thing. You and her are tight. I just didn’t realize we were friends too. I like when we talk and stuff. So, yeah, we’re friends. Sure. Yeah. Totally.”

  His smile is huge, and his whole body shakes with silent laughter. I slap my hands over my cheeks so he doesn’t see them burst like fireworks. “Oh my gosh. I have a rambling problem.”

  “I like your rambling.” He pulls my pant leg down, finger running over my cut slightly. It gives me the good kind of chills. “And I think you’re right.”

  “About what?”

  “We’re friends, but we should, you know, be friends.”

  I have no idea what that means, but it makes my heart pitter patter in my throat, and a big goofy smile envelopes my face. “O-okay.”

  He drops his hand to my knee and slowly pushes it off his leg. “Can I ask you a question now?”

  “Sure.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  I really should’ve known that one was coming. My barely recovered brain works overtime to come up with something honest, yet won’t get Brea in deep crap.

  “I was meeting up with Brea.” So far, the truth.

  �
��Oh, that’s right.” He nods, rubbing a hand over his khakis. “The mentoring thing.” His eyebrows scrunch. “She didn’t blow you off, did she?”

  Not technically. We had a deal. “No.”

  “Then, uh, where is she?” He’s holding back a laugh, but I can also see some older brother protection stuff going on behind his blue eyes. It’s sexy. Like, beyond his normal sexiness. It’s ultra sexy. Levi is made from the beautiful pool of people, but it’s his good-guy-ness that makes him the most gorgeous man alive.

  I set my chin on my knees and play with my toe ring. Anything to keep me from ogling him so I can concentrate, damn it! “She had to run. I’m just waiting for my ride.”

  True and true.

  “Who brought you here?” he asks, relaxing next to me. I push back the tiny guilt wave that hits from not telling him everything.

  “Oh, Adam—you know Adam, right?”

  He nods, mouth turning down a bit in the corners. And that sort of pisses me off. Most everyone has a negative opinion of Adam, but I did not expect it from Levi.

  So my voice comes out a little clipped. “Well, he dropped me off.”

  Levi nods again, and he snatches the piccolo resting on my lap. Geez, what the hell?

  “That’s cool.”

  He sounds like it’s anything but cool. I don’t know what to say, so I peek around him down the road. I never thought I’d want Zoe to hurry up so I can get away from Levi. And that makes me sad and mad all at once. Sad because I thought Levi was better than all the other guys at school, and mad because I’m the one who put him up on that pedestal in the first place.

  “So, how long have you two been together?”

  Mad and sad zip out the window, replaced by confused as hell.

  “Who? Huh? What?”

  “You and Adam. You’re dating, right?”

  Heaven save me, because I’m so surprised and relieved a big pig snort shoots out my nose and mouth. He startles back from me, but he ends up bursting into laughter. Even though I know he’s laughing at my totally unladylike chortles, I don’t care because it’s so cute.

  “Um, no. Adam is just a friend.”