Page 7 of Drive
Or maybe Reid wastryingto look a little like Dave Grohl.
The tequila told me that was hysterical, and I found my eyes drifting back to him as I laughed at the similarities.
Reid’s eyes found mine across the space, and I quickly averted mine. But I was too late.
The door slid open. “What are you laughing at?”
“I’m not laughing,” I said absently while I flipped another page.
“Okay.”
“Just reading about your twin,” I said with a grin, though I was sure he hadn’t heard due to the ice dispenser in the kitchen and wall between us.
“What’s that?”
Tequila, or utter stupidity, had me speaking again. “You look a little like Dave Grohl.”
“Helooks likeme.”
“So, you hear that a lot?”
“Fuckingdaily. And we have a lot in common.”
“You’re in a band?”
A casted arm poked out of the kitchen with his reply. “Not today.”
“Yeah, that sucks. Sorry.”
I didn’t ask him what happened because I didn’t care. I couldn’t. I was trying my best minute by minute not to think about Dylan, and the humiliation that came with letting a guy like that take any sort of lead with me. I just wanted to be alone to sulk with my magazine. Picking up another, I began thumbing through and winced when I realized Reid stood expectantly at the edge of the couch with a fresh margarita in hand. No matter how pretty he was, I didn’t want his company.
“You planning on joining us?”
“Nope.” I turned the page, though I hadn’t read a word. “As of today, I’m done with being gender social, especially with the musical kind.”
“I wasn’t hitting on you.” My face burned slightly as I again peered over my magazine. He towered over me, and I squirmed a little under inquisitive hazel eyes, more on the green side than brown. He’d been blessed with a broad, Roman nose, and beautifully sculpted jaw. The darkened skin of the arm that wasn’t bandaged told me he’d been in the sun all summer. His hair had dried and shortened into onyx pieces that worked together to form the perfect, silky mess. He was heavily inked with a thick black band around the wrist I could see and solid and distinct patterns of tats that disappeared at his bicep under his T-shirt. Though he wore a white smile, he was dark from the tip of his head down to his black boots. He oozed confidence and had no issue staring me down to the point I felt completely uncomfortable.
Though my pride had just taken a lashing, I met his eyes with a dead stare. “I didn’t think you were hitting on me.”
“You totally thought I was,” he said as a dimple peeked out next to his bottom lip behind the stubble on his face. “But don’t worry, little sister,” he said with sarcastic assurance, “you’re safe.”
I rolled my eyes and looked back down at the Spin that covered my thighs.
Seconds later, the door slid closed. Minutes after that, I looked back out at the patio to see him conversing with Paige, positive she was telling Reid exactly why I was no longer dating musicians.
“Fuck you very much, Paige,” I sighed out as Reid again glanced back at me, his dark eyes covering me in mild indifference.
“Well, thank God I’m safe,” I said sarcastically as he watched me mouth the words. Slowly, a new smile appeared, one that told me he knew exactly what I’d said.
CHAPTER TWO
“Word Up”
Cameo
“Stella, go, baby, go!”
Mom?
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7 (reading here)
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
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- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
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