Bullet (21 page)

Zane
answered the door.  There were several people in that tiny little room.  Zane had been sitting in his desk chair and invited Jennifer to join him.  Nick was passed out on the floor in the corner, but there was a girl sitting next to him, trying to wake him up.  Ethan also had a girl sitting next to him on his bed.  I was surprised that it wasn’t the girl who’d been there earlier that week.  I determined then that Ethan was a slut.

Brad had been sitting in the other chair and stood up when he saw me.  He came over and gave me a hug.  He was wearing fresh clothes
, and his hair was damp.  He’d showered since I’d seen him, and he smelled fresh and clean.  He’d already been drinking, and he had a bottle of rum in his hand.  He draped an arm over my shoulders.  “We’re getting ready to play some quarters.  I know you don’t drink, but will you hang with me?”

“Yeah.”

In between slamming shots, Brad asked me questions about the show, not just if I liked it, but he asked technical questions about particular elements, like how his guitar sounded during certain spots, how his and Ethan styles melded, how they looked onstage.  I answered as best as I could, but his arm over my shoulder was quite distracting.

And then, when Ethan started getting more physical with his date, I felt more uncomfortable.  Brad was pretty
drunk by that point, but he was still sharp.  “Wanna get out of here?”

I nodded
, and we slipped out of the room.  At that point, I wasn’t sure if anyone even noticed we were leaving.  I sensed it was getting ready to turn into an orgy, the way people had started groping each other.

Brad moved his arm to around my waist.  “Where are we going?”

“Let’s go to my room.”  He smiled.

Once we were out in the hall, he said,
“So…that shithead Ethan’s not even writing his own lyrics anymore?  That right?”

I nodded.  “Yeah…a lot of those words were mine.”
  I worked up the courage to reciprocate by putting my arm around
his
waist as well.  Smooth Brad didn’t say a word and just kept talking.

“Goddamn, girl.  Pretty impressive.  That one song—‘Metal Forever.’  You write that?”

“Yeah…and ‘Coming Down,’ ‘Intended Punishment,’ and ‘Fates Aligned.’  Also, the basis for ‘Scythe’ was one of my poems too.”

“No shit.”  We walked in silence for a while
and passed the place in the walkway where Charlotte attacked me.  I forced myself to look away from that spot on the polished floor.  “Maybe we need to hire you as our full-time songwriter.”

I started laughing.  “I just like writing.”

“I’m not fuckin’ with you, Val.  You’re writing shit the likes of which we’ve never seen.”  I looked down at the ground and leaned my head into him.  I didn’t like talking about myself like that.  We walked up the stairs and then reached my floor and started walking down the hall toward my room.  He said, “Zane told me about some fight you got into.  Your ex-roommate just tried to beat hell out of you?”

“Something like that.”

I unlocked the door to my room and turned on the light.  He closed the door behind him and looked around our rather unimpressive room and smiled.  He didn’t let me get far.  He slid a thumb across my forehead.  “I’m glad she didn’t leave any scars on that pretty little head of yours.”

I grinned.  “
Yeah.  And I wouldn’t want to have to sue her ass.”  He started laughing…hard.  Oh, shit.  He’d had a
lot
to drink—rum, straight out of the bottle, and it was showing.  “Come on in.”  I walked back to the door and locked it.  When I turned around, Brad was starting to sit on Jennifer’s bed.  “No, not there.  The other bed.”

He stood up and raised his eyebrows.  “Oh…you
gonna come curl up with me?”  He was being so silly, and I didn’t want to laugh, but he was
hammered.

“I think I need to put you to bed.”

He looked at me and sobered up quickly.  He sat up.  “I’d like that.  Want me to tell you where to start?”

I couldn’t help but smile as I got closer.  “Oh, Brad.  You are such a bad, bad boy.”

He smiled back.  He had a twinkle in his eye.  “You like bad boys?”

God…he was irresistible.  “I like
you
.”

“Did you know I turned twenty in March?”

“Yeah?  So now you’re an older bad boy?”

He looked so…
desirable in that moment, the look in his eye.  I got closer to the bed, and he held out his hands, palms up.  I put mine in his.  He said, “I think you’re probably the best birthday present I’ve had.”  I sat down next to him.  He ran his hand along my cheek and kissed me lightly on the lips.  Then he opened his eyes and said, “I’m way fuckin’ drunker than I thought.  I need to rest my head.  The room is spinning.”  He lay back, and his head fell on the pillow.

I sighed.  I didn’t even get a real kiss.  I pulled his sneakers off and then grabbed his legs to pull them up on the bed. 
Afterward, I went to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and changed into a Godsmack t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.  I switched off the light and curled up on the tiny sliver of bed left after Brad’s body ate up the rest.  The only way I could fit was by resting my head on his chest and draping my arm and leg over him.  He was so warm, I didn’t need a blanket.  And as I drifted off to sleep, I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to really kiss him.

* * *

Pounding on the door.  I startled, realizing I was wrapped up like a burrito in Brad’s arms.  Somehow during the night we’d both rolled over, and I was truly in his arms.  I managed to get myself untangled from Brad, and he somehow managed to stay asleep in spite of the ridiculous banging on the door.  “Hold on a second!”

I glanced at the clock on my way across the room—it
was barely six in the morning.  I also noted there was no Jennifer, which told me she spent the night with Zane.  Then again, maybe Jennifer was at the door, having stayed up all night partying, unable to find her key.

I opened the door to none other than Ethan.  “What the hell?”  I couldn’t even get the words out of my mouth before he was shoving his way into my room.

“I knew it.  You son of a bitch.”  He stormed over to my bed and grabbed Brad by the shoulders.  “Wake up, you motherfucker.”  Ethan was drunk—very drunk.  Brad stirred but was still pretty out of it.  I shook myself out of my shocked paralysis and started racing over to where Ethan was manhandling Brad.  He was trying to hold Brad up off the bed by his t-shirt at the neck.  “Did you fuck her?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”  He looked around.  “Where am I?”  Then he saw me standing behind Ethan, frantically trying to pull
Ethan off him.  Brad wasn’t fighting him, though.  “Valerie…Did I?  Did we…?”

Ethan finally gave into my tugging.  I asked, “What are you doing?”

He turned to look at me and grabbed me by the shoulders.  “You mean…you invited him here?  Did he force himself on you?”

“Force himself on me?  Whatever gave you that idea?  Brad is a gentleman.”

I saw Brad raise his eyebrows as he sat up in bed, but he didn’t say anything.  Maybe he was remembering my
bad boy
comment from the night before.  Ethan continued.  “Gentleman?  Then he seduced you.”

I rolled my eyes.  The situation was ludicrous, and I was still quite angry with Ethan.  Who was he to barge in my room early in the morning and start shouting accusations?
  “Get out.”

“He did. 
You
did.”

“Get the hell out of here, Ethan.  I’ve had it with you.”

“But Valerie…”

I was trying to push him out of the room to no avail.  “For your information, we did not have sex.  But if we had, I can assure you that we both would have been willing.”

The look on Ethan’s face changed from anger to pain and worry.  “You mean…you would have slept with my best friend?”

I heard Brad behind me.  “Really?”

“And not with me?”

“You asshole.  After the way you’ve treated me, you think I’d
want
to sleep with you?  You never even
tried
, Ethan Richards.  And neither did Brad.  But that’s unimportant.  Nothing happened.  Now…”  I started pushing Ethan toward the door, and his shock made it possible.  “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d really like to get some sleep.  Good night, Ethan.”

I gently pushed him out into the hall and closed the door.  I started to lock it when Ethan opened it again and pushed his head in the crack.  “You sure you didn’t sleep with him and just forgot?”

“Positive.”  I pushed his head back out the door, shut it, and locked it quickly so he couldn’t come in again.

I walked back in the room and Brad asked, “What happened exactly?”

“You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy.”

“You fell asleep.”

“What were we doing?”

I didn’t know if I wanted to mention his failed attempt at kissing me.  “We were just joking around, and you passed out on my bed.”

He squinted his eyes, trying to remember something.  “But…you slept here…in this bed…
with
me, right?”

I nodded.  “Yeah.  This is my bed.  That bed over there belongs to my roommate.  I didn’t think it’d be cool if I crashed on her bed, just in case she
came back needing it.”

“I lost a golden opportunity.  I need to quit drinking so much.”

I grinned.  “Maybe.  Now…I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted, and you need your rest too.  Do you mind sleeping for a little longer?”

He raised his eyebrows.  “No way in hell will I be able to sleep if you cuddle up next to me like you did last night.”

“Oh…”  I was trying to figure out how to make it work.

“No.  You know what?  You said I was a gentleman, so I guess I’ll do my best to keep being a gentleman.”

“You sure?”

“Shit, Val…it’s
your
bed.  I’m not kickin’ you out of it just ‘cause I’m a—what’d you call me last night?  I might be a bad boy, but I can keep my dogs down.”

“I didn’t say
that
.”

He laughed.  “No, but I
do
remember you calling me a bad boy.  And you seemed to like that.”

I just smiled.  “So is it okay if I lie here
too?  I’ll roll over so my back is to you.”

I heard him sigh.  “
Do what you gotta do.  I’ll…just roll over too.”  And so we lay like that in bed for some time, our backs to each other, and I was growing so uncomfortable—feeling like I was in an unnatural posture and as though I were going to fall off the bed—that I was contemplating getting up.  But Brad started moving and he rolled over.  “I can’t get comfortable.  I promise…no funny business.”  I turned my head to look at him.  “But are you okay if I face this way?  Isn’t that what we did last night?”

I lay my head back on my half of the pillow, so I was sure he couldn’t see me smile.  “Yeah.”

“Do you mind if we do it again?  I don’t think I’ll be able to get to sleep the other way, and I’ve got a headache.  I just want to sleep it off.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

He tucked his arm in between his abdomen and my back, and I imagined that wouldn’t be as comfortable either, so I reached behind me and grabbed his arm, pulling it over my waist.  “That’s not an invitation.”

“
Is it okay to close the gap?”

I considered it.  “I guess that would be okay.”

So he did, resting his body right up against mine.  And, although I was still inexperienced at this point, I was keenly aware that I’d be able to tell if he was getting a little excited.  But I also knew that, no matter how much he might have liked the idea, he still needed more sleep, and it sounded like he had a bit of a hangover.  So, even though he pulled me close and cuddled me like a lover might have, all we did was sleep.

That’s not to say
I
didn’t have a hell of a time drifting off.  He was warm but not too hot, so he was definitely snuggle material.  And feeling a man’s body against mine—hard where mine was soft, hairy where mine was not—made it difficult for me to doze off.  When I finally did, I’m pretty sure my dreams weren’t about Ethan.

* * *

Needless to say, I wasn’t able to sleep as much as I would have liked.  I kept waking up, simply because I wasn’t used to sharing my bed.  So I got up and decided to start my day.  I had plenty of studying I had to do, especially with finals right around the corner, but first a shower.

After I extricated myself from his arms, I looked back at him.  God, he was cute, especially sleeping.  He looked like he had no worries in the world.  And then I took a deep breath.  What was I thinking?

Time to take that shower.

When I returned to my room, I was wearing a robe and slipper socks, and while I was covering more than I would have if I were wearing jeans, I suppose it could have been construed as suggestive, but I hated forcing clothes on my damp body.  It took longer and was a bigger pain, so I liked to wait a few minutes before getting dressed.  So I sat at my desk and opened my makeup drawer, pulling out the mirror and turning on the desk light to put on my makeup.  Once done, I pulled off the towel and combed out my hair and then I was ready to get dressed.