Bad Rep Page 35
“Don't play well my ass,” I teased, mesmerized as I watched him pull notes from his guitar. Jordan looked at me and I couldn't help but smile at him. Gone was the flirty, intense Jordan Levitt. This Jordan was quiet and collected and perhaps even harder to resist. He suddenly got up and shut his bedroom door.
My face flushed and I felt like I might hyperventilate. Jordan must have recognized the look of panic on my face because he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed lightly. “The noise out there is giving me a headache. Is this okay?” he asked and I appreciated him wanting my permission. It was sweet.
And right then, I forgot about everything but being here with him...right now. So I nodded. Jordan dropped his hand and sat back down on his bed. “You ever thought about learning to play?” he asked me as he continued to strum a tune.
I put a hand to my chest in mock horror. “Dear god, no! I'm musically challenged in the worst way. Tone deaf doesn't even start to cover how bad I am when it comes to anything instrument related.” I explained adamantly.
Jordan waved his hand, gesturing for me to come over to him. When I didn't move he smirked. “I'm not going to bite,” he taunted, though his words seemed to hold the hint of a promise. So against my better judgment, I stood up and sat down beside him on the bed.
Jordan lifted the guitar over his head and slid the strap around my neck and under my arm. “I know you're a righty, so hold it like this.” How in the world did he know I was right handed? Jordan couldn't miss the question in my silence. “When you write down orders, it's always with your right hand,” he explained, looking a little shy by the admission.
I knew he watched me sometimes, but knowing he paid that close of attention was more than a little flattering. He leaned behind me and propped his chin on my shoulder. His arms came around me and he took my right hand and placed it over the strings. Then he wrapped his hand around my smaller left one as we gripped the fret board together.
“You have to loosen up. The first thing about music is you can't think too much about it. You kind of have to feel it. Does that make sense?” His breath tickled my ear as he spoke. I had to force my body not to shiver as I became entirely too focused on the feel of his chest pressed against my back. I could smell the grease from his shift at Barton's mixed with a scent that was undeniably Jordan.
I swallowed thickly and nodded my head. Jordan lifted my forefinger and held it down over one of the strings. Then he took my middle finger and placed it one string down. Followed by my ring finger that he positioned below that one. He pressed my hand lightly into the biting metal. He lifted my right hand in his and took my fingers, running them along the length of the guitar, top to bottom. The sound it emitted was pretty.
I turned my head a bit to look at him and grinned. “That was cool!” I enthused.
Jordan smiled back. “That was an A chord,” he said, obviously enjoying my excitement. His smile slowly faded and I became very aware of how close our faces were. Our lips were almost touching and all I could do was stare into his beautiful blue eyes.
If I moved forward just a fraction of an inch I could kiss him. God I wanted to kiss him. No, I needed to kiss him. Needed it like I needed the air that I breathed. How had I never noticed how incredibly amazing Jordan's eyes were? They weren't just blue; they were this molted blend of light blue and darker cerulean. Someone could get lost looking in those eyes. And for a second I did.
Until I realized what was happening and I pulled myself away. I cleared my throat and looked down at his hands holding mine over the guitar. “Can you show me a different chord?” I asked, my voice trembling as I tried to steady myself.
Jordan took my cue and backed up a bit, putting some space between our bodies. But he didn't drop my hands as he held them tightly, moving my fingers into another chord position.
Fifteen minutes later and he had walked me through the opening chords of Stairway to Heaven. I had this incredible moment of accomplishment. I couldn't stop the goofy smile that made its way across my face. Jordan was smiling too and I felt like we just sort of clicked. We got each other on a level I had never experienced with another person other than Riley.
And then it all fell spectacularly apart. “Jordan!” I heard Olivia call from the hallway. Suddenly the door flew open, bouncing off the wall. I jumped up, the guitar swinging heavily off of my shoulder. Jordan got to his feet as well, running his hands through his hair.
“There's my baby cakes,” Olivia slurred, falling into Jordan and wrapping her arms around his waist. I stood rooted to the spot. I was helplessly immobile as Olivia started slobbering all over Jordan's chin, trying to reach his lips.
Jordan seemed kind of disgusted by her and tried to gently move her away. “Baby, I need you. I want you to f**k me,” she whispered loudly as she shoved her hand down Jordan's pants. He flushed a bright red, which would have been funny if my heart wasn't being shred to pieces.
He looked up at me in apology. I quickly pulled the guitar over my head and dropped it unceremoniously onto the bed. “I guess I should get going.” I hated how shaky my words were in my own ears. Jordan pulled Olivia's hand out of his pants and tried to get around her.
“Jordan...” Olivia whined. Jordan made a grunt in frustration.
“Mays, wait,” he started but I just shook my head.
“Thanks for the guitar lesson,”I muttered, turning to leave.
“Jordan...I think I'm gonna be sick.” Olivia ran into Jordan's bathroom and then all I could hear was the sound of her retching.