Love Struck (3 page)

5

Lola

“Where is Ryker taking you?” Star turns around in the chair from where she sits at the desk doing homework. She leans her chin on the top of the chair, her ponytail swishing behind her head like a pendulum.

“Don’t know.” I lean down, slipping on my high heels.
  A black curl slips over my shoulder and my large hoop earrings brush against my neck. “I hope it’s somewhere exciting. I’m tired of guys taking me to stuffy restaurants. I want to have some fun.”

“Lola Vega? Did I just hear you correctly?” Star raises a brow. “I thought you liked being taken to expensive restaurants.”

I sit up, crossing one slender leg over the other. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s what my dad expects. But my dad isn’t here, so now I can do what I want.”

“This is a Lola I’m unfamiliar with.” Star’s forehead scrunches up in a look of confusion.

I stand up. “Well, then, I’d like to introduce you to Seattle Lola.”

Star giggles.
“Nice to meet you, Seattle Lola. So tell me. How are you different from California Lola?”

I sweep my arms out in a big circle doing my best attempt at being silly. “Seattle Lola is more carefree.”

“Really?” Star gives me a challenging look, and I cringe wondering what she’s going to do. “Meaning that Seattle Lola won’t mind if I do this?”  She gathers up some candy wrappers from her desk and tosses them on the floor. They land scattered over the carpet, and a few chocolate crumbs escape from one of them. It causes a chill to break out over my body. I can’t stand it another minute, so I bend over and start frantically picking them up.

“Didn’t think so.”
Star chuckles, slipping out of her chair and joining me in my clean-up effort.

Once we’ve carefully gotten all the wrappers and crumbs, I stand up. “Okay, so maybe I’m not completely carefree.”

Star groans with dramatic exaggeration, flinging herself back down in her chair. “I knew it was too good to be true.” She turns back around, hunching over her homework. “I have a feeling only Ryker will reap the benefits of this new Lola.”

“Shut up,” I say in a joking manner, flicking my fingers against her arm.
After snatching up my purse, I reach inside and pull out my red lipstick. I just finished swiping it over my lips when I hear a knock at the door. Glancing down at my simple black dress and high heels, I’m hoping I dressed correctly.  Reaching forward, I yank open the dorm room door. Ryker stands before me, wearing black jeans and a leather jacket over his white t-shirt, his hair perfectly tousled.

“You look gorgeous.” His
dark eyes rove over my body, and I warm at his words.

“Thank you.” I glance over at Star. “See
ya later, Star.”

“Have fun,” she calls
over her shoulder as she scrawls in her notebook, the pencil whispering over the paper.

I step into the hall, closing the door behind us.
Ryker’s musky scent sweeps over me, causing my pulse to spike. We walk down the hall so close together that our shoulders brush occasionally. My palms moisten, so I shake them out discreetly at my sides. When we step outside a cool gust of wind smacks me in the face, and I shiver.

“You cold?”
Ryker asks, a look of concern on his face.

I nod. “I should’ve worn something warmer.
Still not used to the weather here.”

“
Wanna wear my jacket?” He starts to shed his black leather jacket.

I put up my arm to stop
him, stunned by his chivalrous nature. “No. I don’t want to take your jacket. I’ll be fine.”

“May I?” He a
sks, his arm hovering over my shoulders. “At least let me warm you with my body then.”

Surprised that he even bothered to ask, I give him a smile and nod. His arm circles around me and I nestled into
him, sighing. I’ve never had a guy ask if he could simply put his arm around me, and I find it so endearing. It makes me wonder if there is more to this sexy musician than I thought.

“Where are you from?” He
asks as we make our way across the darkened parking lot. A car zips past, its headlights illuminating the space around it. A few girls giggle as they hurry toward the dorms.

“California,” I answer.

“That explains it,” he says. “I bet it’s sunny all the time there.”

“I’m from Northern California, so it can get cold, just not like here.”

He stops in front of a little Honda, and pulls his keys out of his pocket. Out of the corner of my eye I see a couple kissing against a vehicle a few rows over.

“This is your car?” I raise one eyebrow
, assessing the car we’re standing in front of.

“Surprised?”

“It just doesn’t seem very rockstarish.”

Ryker
leans against the car, an amused smile on his face. His shirt rides up, exposing the lower part of his stomach, which is, just as I suspected, rock hard and taut with muscles. A satisfied sigh lodges in my throat. “And what kind of car would you deem rockstarish?”

I shrug. “Don’t know.
Maybe a van. Don’t all rockstars drive vans?”

Ryker
chuckles . It’s a deep, low, raspy chuckle that causes my hair to stand on end. This guy has no idea how incredibly sexy he is. “God, I hope not, because I never plan to buy a van.” He pops open the passenger door. “Ready?”

I bite my lip while allowing him to guide me inside
. I’m grateful for the warmth of the car as I slide into the seat. I rub my frigid palms together in an effort to thaw. My fingers are red and chapped. While Ryker gets in, I reach into my purse and pull out my hand lotion. After applying a generous amount, I rub it in, savoring the rich feel and sweet scent. Ryker starts the car, and heat spills from the vents.

Once we pull out of the parking lot
, I turn to Ryker. “Where are we going?” He probably wants it to be a surprise, but I can’t stand not knowing things. The thought of the unknown practically chokes me to death.

“There’s a nice steakhouse very close by.”

I exhale, slumping slightly in my seat. “Oh, ok.”
What is it about me that screams stuffy restaurant?
Glancing down at my outfit, I decide that maybe it’s time to dumb down my wardrobe. Maybe I’ll have Star take me to one of those thrift stores she likes to shop at or something. I scratch the top of my arm, and realize that just the thought of wearing used clothes is making me break out in hives. Okay, scratch that. But at least I can go to one of the discount clothing stores in the mall instead of shopping at my normal boutiques.

“Unless you’d rather hit up this club downtown. My friend’s band is playing.”
Ryker is looking at me expectantly, trying to gauge my reaction. “But it’s totally up to you.”

“That sounds perfect.” I clap my hands together.

Ryker wears an amused expression, and I can tell he wasn’t expecting me to choose that. “Really?”

I nod.

“Great. Our band has played at this club dozens of times, so I know the owner. You’ll be able to get in even though you’re underage, so don’t worry about that.” He gives me a sidelong glance. “Not that we’ll be drinking.”

I don’t know how old
Ryker is, but I know he’s over twenty-one. It’s sweet of him to offer not to drink so I won’t feel left out. “Sounds like a lot of fun.”
And that is exactly what I was hoping for.

Awkward silence settles over us as
Ryker continues driving. I stare out the window at the splashes of blurry colors, cars, lights and houses. Leaves fly by like tiny little bats. My mind spins, trying to come up with something to say but I come up blank. Ryker's arm juts out and he turns up the music a little to cut through the quietness. A pulsing rock beat fills the little car.

"Is this your band?" I ask, curious.

"Are you serious?" He sounds incredulous. "This is only the best rock band of our time. Do you really not recognize it?"

His mocking tone bothers me.
Maybe dating a musician was a mistake after all.
"I'm not really familiar with rock music." I fiddle with the bracelets wrapped around my wrist, and they clink together making music of their own.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I was just teasing you."
Ryker's gentle tone softens me a little. "I guess I kind of thought you were joking too."

"Nope.
Not joking. I know absolutely nothing about rock n' roll."

"I feel like an ass. I guess I just assumed that since Star's a musician that you must be into music too."
He shrugs, a sliver of light from the streetlamp slicing across his face.

"It's cool," I say. "But no, I'm not a musician like Star. I used to be a dancer though."

"Really?" His eyebrows lift slightly, and his mouth curves upward into a devilish grin. "A dancer, huh?"

I groan, and playfully slap him in the shoulder. 
"Not that kind of dancer, you perv."

"What makes you think that's what I was talking about?"
He feigns innocence.

"Cause you're a guy," I answer simply. "What about you? How long have you been playing?"

"Can't remember a time when I wasn't. I started playing guitar as a kid, and I just never stopped."

I smile wistfully, wishing I had something like that in my life. Even though I'm eighteen, I still haven't found that thing I'm passionate about. When I hear Star talk about her music, jealousy rises up inside of me like the bubbles in a carbonated soda. I want to feel like that about something.
Over the years my parents enrolled me in all the extracurricular activities money can buy, but I wasn't really into any of them. Star tells me not to worry about it. She assures me that I'm still young enough to figure it out. But that's easy for her to say - she has her thing. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever find my gift, my passion.

The club is packed when we arrive. It’s smaller than I had pictured, and people are crammed inside. Thankfully it’s warm. Maybe even too warm. Every stool at the bar is occupied and all the tables are filled. Loud, live music booms from the stage, and right under it is an empty space on the floor where people of all ages dance to the beat. The lighting is dim and the place smells like sweat and beer. It’s exactly the kind of place California Lola wouldn’t be caught dead in.

“This okay?”
Ryker eyes me.

“It’s perfect,” I answer honestly
, yelling above all the noise. An elbow jabs me in the back, and I plaster myself to Ryker's side.

He smiles, leaning down. His mouth brushes my ear
, his breath hot against my earlobe. “I’d love to see some of your dance moves.”

I shiver
, and paste on my most confident smile. “I’d love to show you.” Then I grab his hand and yank him forward until we are entering the dance floor. I squeeze my way through people and locate a space to dance. Anxiety takes root in my stomach.  Telling him I used to be a dancer may have been a slight over-exaggeration. I took a class once when I was eight, and it was ballet. Not sure how well that will translate here in this club while the band plays rock music. All around us couples gyrate, and some girls spin their hair around their heads violently. I cringe, knowing I won't be doing that. Not only will it seriously mess up my perfect curls, but it will give me a major head-rush. Taking a deep breath, I allow my body to sway back and forth. I've been to school dances before. Surely I can do this. I just need to feel the beat and move in sync. Closing my eyes, I let the music blanket me, let the beat weave its way around my body and pull me in the right direction. I raise my arms above my head, hearing my bracelets tinkle like chimes. Then I move my hips sensually from side to side. When I open my eyes, Ryker is staring at me his mouth slightly agape. I worry that maybe I've made a complete fool of myself.

"Damn," he
says under his breath. "Are you sure you weren't, you know, that kind of dancer?"

I giggle, swatting at him again while continuing to dance.

"Because that is seriously the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He swallows thickly and licks his lips. Then he steps closer to me, and my heart clatters in my chest. His hands curve around my waist and his body sways with mine, his fingers digging into my flesh. Keeping my arms above my head I continue to dance. "You're gonna have to stop doing that," he growls.

"Why?" I answer coyly.

"You have no idea the thoughts that are going through my mind right now, Lola."

"Is that a bad thing?" I let my arms drop and they drape over his shoulders like a designer shrug.

"It is if you want me to remain a gentleman."

"I have a feeling you're always a gentleman, Ryker," I say with a smile.

His forehead falls against mine, and I savor his musky scent.
Even though we are surrounded by tons of people, I feel like we’re the only two in the room. Normally I can’t stop myself from people-watching. Star teases me about it all the time, how my eyes dart around and I have trouble focusing. But in this moment I am so in tune to Ryker that I have no desire to look anywhere other than in his rich brown eyes. "It's how I was raised. But in this moment I have the urge to throw all that out the window." The tone of his voice changes, taking on a husky quality.