Playing Patience
Page 37

“So, Zeke, like, talks to you? Because Chet says he’s not much of a talker.”
I laughed thinking about all the stuff that came out of his mouth.
“Yeah, he talks some. He’d never admit it, but he’s not a bad guy.”
“Tell that to all the girls he’s left behind. Although, it’s not like they didn’t know any better. Chet says Zeke is pretty upfront about only wanting one-night stands.” She waved at some guy as we walked by.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. I don’t know. We’ve only talked a little. I’m not, like, in love with him or anything. I was just saying I like him.” I instantly started to worry that Megan would tell Chet and then Chet would tell Zeke.
Oh my God, he’d never let me live that one down. This whole talking about boys thing was new for me and I didn’t know if I could trust Megan to keep her trap shut.
“Listen, Megan, please don’t say anything to Chet, okay?”
“Cross my heart, hope to die!” she shouted across the hallway to me.
We parted ways as she went to her homeroom and I went to mine.
After a long, exhausting day of school, I went to practice and sweated my ass off. We played a scrimmage to get ready for Saturday’s game and I left practice with twelve goals. Damn, I loved playing soccer.
Since Megan was spending more and more time with Chet, I had Casey take me to the Boy’s Club after practice again. It worked since it was on the way to her house. When I went inside the gym, I was met with Zeke showing Alex how to play the guitar again, but this time it was a bigger guitar they practiced on. It had to be Zeke’s and I thought it was sweet he would let some kid touch his guitar.
“Sounds good, Alex,” I said as I walked up and ruffled his hair.
He smiled up at me as he picked slowly at the guitar.
I sat across from them and Zeke looked up at me. I smiled at him, but he didn’t smile back.
Great! We were going to pretend we didn’t have a nice talk the day before.
He shifted his hair out of his eyes and looked away as he helped Alex. I took the time to take a good look at him. He was tall. At least six-one, and even though he said he’d never played any sports, he had an excellent body. I remembered the day he took his shirt off because he smelled like smoke. His chest and arms were so beautiful and his tattoos were amazing. I even had a little shock at seeing one of his nipples was pierced. I didn’t even know men did that and I liked it, but those tattoos were like living art on his skin. I’d give just about anything to take his shirt off and get a good look at them again.
Without realizing I was staring at him, he bit down on his lip ring and then licked his bottom lip. I didn’t know much about being turned on by a guy. I only knew what Megan and other girls said, but I was almost positive that’s what was happening. I couldn’t look away from him, his dark hair that hung into his face and those full lips he was constantly biting and licking. Everything about him was dark, yet there was a tiny light inside of him that flashed on occasionally, and as sad as it sounded, I was willing to sit in the darkness and wait for that brief bright moment.
They were playing a different song today and I sat and listened as Zeke patiently showed Alex the right chords. Finally, he sent Alex to go play ball with the other boys and I watched as he played. His guitar was nothing like the little beige one that kid had brought to the gym. His was much bigger and it was a darker wood. There was writing on it that I couldn’t make out so I leaned in to get a better look. He looked up at me and stopped playing.
“Wanna give it another try?” He turned his guitar toward me.
“Sure.” I smiled.
He handed me the guitar and it wasn’t as heavy as it looked, but it was way bigger than the other and was hard to hold. I strained to hold it up and he laughed softly.
“Whatever you do, please don’t drop it.” He flashed me a genuine smile.
I liked it when he smiled at me.
“I won’t. This doesn’t look like the one you play on stage.”
“It’s not. That one’s an acoustic. It was my first one. The one I play with the band is more expensive and a different kind, but it’s nice to know you pay such close attention to me when I’m on stage.”
I didn’t respond to that. I just fiddled with his guitar. Except, instead of trying to play anything, I turned it over so I could read what was written on it.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I noticed the writing and I want to see what it says,” I said as I leaned down and tried to read it.