Into the Deep Page 8


My eyes widened. “He said that?”

“Mmm-hmm. He said he likes me. Wants to be friends.”

“At least he’s honest, I guess. Are you going to be friends with him?”

Claudia shrugged. “Sure, why not. I don’t do manwhores, no matter how hot they are, but he’s fun. Friends. Whatever.”

“Are you sure my eyes aren’t puffy anymore?” I asked, ducking my head as we walked up the cobbled lane toward the college.

“No puffiness or redness in sight. You look hot. You always look hot,” Claudia said a little absentmindedly.

“Are you nervous about seeing Beck again?”

“Nervous? Why on earth would I be nervous?”

I ignored her and kept following Maggie, Gemma, and Laura. They’d heard we were going to the student union to hang out with Beck and they’d invited themselves along. Beck was a popular draw.

Claudia had come into the kitchen at dinner to tell me she’d just spoken with Beck and he’d invited us to hang out at the student union. At first, I was wary. It turned out Beck and Jake were best friends at Northwestern, so Beck had called Claudia to ask if I was okay. Apparently, Jake had told him our whole story. Claudia hadn’t told him anything about my reaction to seeing Jake but she said she wasn’t sure if we were free. Beck had caught the hint and assured her that Jake wouldn’t be there.

The student union had a number of locations across the university, but the one we were headed to was Teviot. Teviot was housed in a beautiful, old, Gothic-style building on the main campus at Bristo Square. It had a nightclub inside, a couple of different bars including this really cool Library Bar Claud and I had checked out the day we got our IDs.

Beck had texted Claud to let us know they were in the Teviot Lounge bar. We followed our roommates up the stairs and into a crowded space that had the typical look of a British pub. Everywhere was dark wood, low lights, comfortable seating, and hardwood, hardwearing furniture. The smell of stale beer was a little overwhelming but it was a given in a bar with carpeted floors. We squeezed past the students milling around the doors, and I followed Claudia as she checked out the room for our newest friend.

She grabbed my hand. “He’s over there.”

I couldn’t see him yet, but I followed her as she pulled me through the crowd. We came to a stop at a table around the corner from the bar. Beck was standing with Matt, while Lowe, Rowena, and some guy I didn’t recognize sat at a small table next to them.

We’d lost our roommates and for a second, I pondered looking for them. They had specifically come with us to see Beck. Then again, they were twenty years old … they didn’t need a tour guide or a babysitter.

“Charley, Claudia, glad you could come,” Beck greeted us. “Let me get you a beer.”

He disappeared before we could say yay or nay and Matt, the blond from the party, smiled at us. “We met last night,” he nodded to me and then turned to Claud, “but I definitely would remember meeting you, and we definitely did not.” Matt’s grin widened.

She smiled politely back. “I’m Claudia.”

“Claudia, this is Lowe.” Lowe winked at her and then lifted his beer in greeting to me. “Rowena.” She gave us a friendly wave. “And our buddy, Denver. It was his party last night. Poor guy got stuck in different accommodation from us.”

Denver had messy dark hair that fell to his chin. He wore a lot of silver jewelry, a tight Black Sabbath shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans and motorcycle boots. Matt seemed to be the odd one out, but still, there was something about the group…

“Are you guys in a band?”

Matt grinned. “Yeah. We play a lot in Evanston.”

“We have a few gigs lined up here,” Lowe added, his gaze fixed on me.

I was impressed. “How did you manage to swing that so quickly?”

Lowe shrugged. “We sent out demos to a couple of pubs and bars before we got here. Arranged some dates. We have to rent a drum kit, which is a bummer, but it would be an even bigger bummer to be here for a year and not play one f**king gig.”

“What are you guys called?” Claudia asked, seeming interested, which surprised me since she wasn’t big into music unless it was classical or country.

“The Stolen.” Beck appeared behind us with two beers. I thought that was impressively fast considering the line at the bar. No doubt he charmed his way through the crowd. “We’re indie rock.”

“I told them people will love them here,” Rowena piped up with a big smile.

“Oh my God, you’re Scottish,” I replied, somewhat stupidly.

“Aye.”

Feeling like an idiot, I tried to explain my “duh” moment. “I just thought you were American with you being with the guys and …” I drifted off, actually not sure why I’d assumed she was American.

She shook her head. “I live across the hall fae Denver. Ma flatmates are aliens. Denver saved me fae them.”

“She’s our token Scot,” Denver joked, throwing his arm around her shoulder. “We’re keeping her around for the accent. It does help, though, that the girl knows good music.”

Rowena looked perfectly happy tucked into his side and I wondered absentmindedly if she was more than his token Scot.

We all fell easily into conversation, Matt hogging Claudia’s attention, his gaze almost stunned as they talked. He was captivated and I instantly felt bad for him because I knew Claudia didn’t feel the same. When Claudia liked a guy, she was pretty obvious about it. Beck could attest to that—Beck, who, I noticed, was watching Claudia with an intensity that surprised me for someone who apparently wasn’t into her. He finally caught me studying him and he grinned, his expression teasing as he stepped near me.

“So,” he leaned his head down close to mine, “I know your friend is a good girl, but I still haven’t made up my mind about you.”

I didn’t know if he was coming onto me or just making conversation, but I thought I better lay it out for him anyway. “I don’t do bad boys.”

His eyes narrowed. “Anymore.”

My gaze sharpened at his insinuation and Beck shrugged. “Jake’s like a brother. He tells me everything.”

I looked away, my heartbeat picking up at the mention of him. Trying for nonchalant, I took a swig of beer. If I was to go by Beck’s next comment, I’d obviously failed.

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