Don't Let Go Page 2
His voice carries throughout the bar/house. At first it is slow and steady but quickly builds into a faster beat. He appears completely enthralled in the moment, shutting his eyes from time to time, as though he feels every word. It is the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed and I know I can’t stay. This will only end one way, me in his bed and him ignoring me tomorrow. He is looking for a fast lay Sadie, nothing more, I think. Too bad I didn’t meet him last year. Pretty sure he could have showed me a thing or two.
I wait two songs and start making my way through the crowd, hearing the groans and protests for having inconvenienced them. When I get to the front door, bald man is no longer there. I hear Brady’s voice turn sultry and sexual while the music moves to a slower beat. This is my cue; if I hear it, I won’t have the self-control to walk away.
I open the screen door and step onto the street, trying to stay on the straight and narrow. My parents deserve it and Brady Carsen would veer me off the course of a trouble-free life.
That Monday I’m walking back to my dorm after a long Algebra course. I hate math; it is by far my worst subject. I have to find a tutor if I’m going to pass it. I make a mental note to check that out tonight. Digging into my messenger bag, I realize I forgot my iPod back in my room. Since the math building is clear on the other side of campus, it’s going to be a boring walk. It leaves me alone with my thoughts and there is nothing I hate more than that.
A half hour later, I grab my keys to open the dorm building. The quad is filled with laughter and jokes from students. A couple of girls sit in the corner and stare at some of the guys horsing around. Checking my mail, I’m not surprised to see the mailbox empty. I glance at my watch and notice it’s only three o’clock, making me relieved that Jessa has another hour before she has to leave for class. I hate being in that room by myself. It is the sole reason I decided to go into the dorms instead of getting an apartment.
When I open the door to my room, I see Jessa sitting on her loft bed. Our room is small so we opted for two loft beds. We set up chairs and a table under one and the television under the other. Our small refrigerator sits next to the television with a microwave on top. Our dressers line the walls on either side. It is close quarters, to say the least.
“You had a visitor today,” she says, beaming over at me.
“Who?” I question. I don’t know very many people here.
“Well, I’ll give you two hints.” She starts climbing down from her loft. “He is fucking hot and two, he is fucking hot. What else matters?” She grabs a water bottle out of the fridge.
“Okay. I don’t know any hot guys, so I’m at a loss.” I plop my bag down and grab a bottle for myself before sitting in my chair.
“Think really hard,” she says, sitting next to me. “He left something for you. I put it on your dresser.” She motions with her hand.
I stand up and lying on my dresser is my iPod with a sticky note attached.
“May I say, he is so beyond fuckable, Sadie. If you don’t jump on that, I will,” Jessa continues talking as I pull the note off.
Since you left without seeing my show,
I’m leaving you to your own private listening pleasure.
- B
“Brady Carsen?” I question, picking up my iPod. I thumb through the albums and spot The Invisibles listed. “How did he know where to find me?” I whisper to myself.
“You should have seen how upset he was you weren’t here. He hung around for a while, but said he had somewhere to be,” Jessa reveals, coming up behind me.
“Huh,” I mumble to myself. I grab my ear buds and climb up to my loft.
A couple minutes later, I hear the door shut and Jessa is gone. I curl up on top of my blankets listening to Brady sing to me. Surprisingly, there are quite a few love songs. I assumed they would mostly be loud and fast. I love how you can hear Brady’s breath suck in at the end of the lyrics. A particular slow song comes on and Brady’s soft voice starts singing, I thought I would be enough but I guess I was wrong. I never thought it was possible to miss someone for so long but you just keep walking away. When it gets back to the chorus my eyes start drooping and eventually I’m lulled to sleep with Brady’s voice filling my ears.
Chapter 3
In the last two days, I have listened to The Invisibles at least thirty times. It plays when I walk to class, when I study at the library, and when I fall asleep. Brady Carsen’s voice has an effect on me that I have never felt before. Even the faster songs bring a calming sensation over me.
Even though I know nothing about him, he consumes my every thought. I find myself doing a double take with every guy that sports a small Mohawk, checking if it’s him. I don’t even know if he is a student; he could very well be trying to make it to stardom as a musician.
I curse myself when my stomach fills with butterflies just imagining his face when he winked at me on stage that night. As much as I tell myself he’s trouble with a capital T, I can’t stop the thoughts. I know I should change my music, take The Invisibles off my iPod, but every time my finger hovers over that delete button it chooses cancel instead.
Since today is Thursday, I have a three hour gap between classes. Jessa had company when I woke up this morning, so I decide to head to the library instead of the dorm. I need the quiet study time anyway.
I walk through the doors of the library and make my way directly to the elevators. I ride the elevator by myself up to the sixth floor. I select my spot at a table for four in my usual area, close to the bathroom and elevator. Then I notice a guy sitting a few seats over by himself with his laptop out, typing so hard it sounds like the keys are going to pop off the keyboard. I debate leaving for a second, but decide I’m going to fight for my spot. I found it the first week of classes and I’m not giving it up easily. I put my ear buds in and turn my music up loud with the hope that it will annoy the angry typist.
Five minutes later my plan worked, except he now stands on the other side of the table from me. I pretend to concentrate on my book in front of me, but I see his pressed khaki slacks out of the corner of my eye. I don’t look up, but he gives me no choice when he taps his pen on the page I’m reading.
My eyes follow the blue pen that is held by long lean fingers, up to the tanned forearms, followed by the strong shoulders until I meet a pair of blue eyes staring down at me. A smile appears from his lips showing his perfect white teeth. When I realize he is talking to me, I pull the white cord from my ear bud out.
“I’m sorry, what?” My voice displays a hint of annoyance to it.
“Is that The Invisibles?” He points to my ear bud resting on my book.
“Yeah.” I look down and back up to him. I notice his smile has faltered. “Do you like them?” I ask.
“They’re okay,” he says, shrugging his shoulders up and down. His reaction confuses me. He must like the band, how else could he pick them out from hearing it from my ear bud?
“Do you mind turning it down?” he asks.
“I will turn it down if you are a little nicer to your keyboard,” I jokingly respond.
“Deal,” he laughs, putting his hand out for me to shake. “Grant Bishop.”
“Sadie Miller.” I shake his hand back.
“So Sadie, what year are you?” He pulls a chair out from the table.
“Senior. I don’t want to be rude but I have to finish reading this.” I point to my book, praying he doesn’t sit down.
“How come I’ve never seen you around?” he asks and a loud sigh escapes my lips when he sits down.
“Do you know the entire fifteen thousand student body?” I sarcastically ask.
“No, but since roughly sixty percent are female, I only really need to know nine thousand. Regardless, I would never forget a face like yours.” His flirtatious lip turns up to the right.
“Nice line,” I chuckle.
“Thanks,” he laughs. I’m happy to see he knows how cliché his line is. “Seriously, I have been coming up to the sixth floor since my
freshman year and I have never seen you,” he states.
“I just transferred from Drayton University,” I reveal. I doubt he knows anyone from there.
“That would explain it,” he says, staring at me for a few seconds before standing up. “Welcome to the sixth floor. You won’t be bothered since it’s the Entomology area; there aren’t many people that come up here unless they are biology majors,” he advises me.
“Thanks,” I respond and put my ear bud back in, turning down the music.
My stomach growls an hour later and I realize I haven’t eaten since the banana this morning. I stand to pack up my books, deciding I should grab a bite to eat before heading to Clinical Psychology. Slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder, I see Grant is still typing, or in his case finger pecking on his computer. Right as I’m about to press the elevator button to go down, Grant puts his finger up in the air to me. “Hold on, Sadie. I’ll ride with you.” He quickly shoves his computer in his backpack and jogs over to me. I press the down button and we wait in silence together.
Once we enter the small confines, Grant turns my way. “Are you off to class?” he asks.
“Um…yeah.” My voice hesitates, sounding unsure. Damn, I can tell he knows I’m lying.
“For some reason I don’t believe you,” he says, cocking his eyebrow.
“Well, I’m going to grab something to eat and then I have to head to Wright Hall,” I admit.
“Psychology?” he questions.
I nod in affirmation.
“I usually don’t do this, but you want to go grab a coffee or something?” he asks and suddenly the elevator is traveling way too slow.
I bite my lower lip, stalling in hesitation. Grant’s eyes stay firmly on me, anticipating my answer. Last year I would have said forget the coffee, where’s your dorm? But I’m not that Sadie any longer. A wave of relief envelops me when the elevator beeps and the doors peel open. Unfortunately, my relief only lasts a second, when a set of familiar caramel eyes meet mine.
Brady Carsen looks delectable. He’s wearing a black hoodie paired with charcoal jeans and a set of black Chuck Taylors. His hair is pushed to the side today, making him appear less like a rocker than Saturday. But it’s his smile that absorbs me first. A warm safe feeling blankets me as we stare at one another.
“Sadie Miller,” Brady states.
“Brady Carsen,” I mimic his tone.
He smiles widely at me, but it dissipates when he looks to my left.
“Grant,” he nods over to him. I look back and forth between them, surprised they know each other. Their appearances would suggest they hang out in different circles.
“Brady,” Grant nods back.
Brady quickly disregards Grant, focusing his attention solely on me. “So, did you get my note?” The dimple in his right cheek indents further when his lips turn up.
“I did,” I say, returning his smile.
“What did you think?” He nervously rocks back on his heels. “I mean it wasn’t the live version like I would have preferred.” He raises his right eyebrow to me, informing me I should have never left Saturday night.
“It’s alright,” I jokingly shrug my left shoulder.
“Just alright,” he says softly. His lips turn down in a disappointed frown.
“Hey.” I playfully hit his shoulder with my hand. “I’m just kidding. Just ask Grant who I was listening to a few minutes ago when I was studying.” I point toward Grant, who seems completely disinterested in our conversation.
Brady’s eyes perk up at me. “Really?” He honestly sounds surprised that I like his band.
“Yes really. Tell him, Grant.” I motion with my hand to Grant, who is standing with his hands in the pockets of his khakis.
“Yeah…she was,” Grant mumbles and his attitude makes Brady smile even bigger. “Listen, I have to go. See you around, Sadie.” Grant starts to walk away before I can respond.
“Bye, Grant,” I call out but he’s too far to hear me.
Brady’s eyes follow mine to Grant’s back. “Do you have time to get something to eat?”
“Sorry, I can’t.” I stare at the ground, not wanting to look into his eyes.
“Can’t or won’t?” He dips his head down, trying to see my face.
“Won’t,” I answer softly right before my stomach grumbles. My face instantly reddens.
“I was on my way to get something to eat. Walk with me to the Student Center.” He motions with his head. “We can sit at different tables if you want,” he teases.
“I thought you were waiting for the elevator?”
“Plans change. I heard your stomach and now mine’s reacting. Come on.” He shrugs his shoulder forward to follow.
“Don’t get any ideas Carsen, my stomach made this decision.” I walk in line next to him.
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Sadie Miller.” He wraps his arms around my shoulders before I squirm out of it. “Sorry, I had to take a chance.” He laughs and I try to conceal my grin from him.
Brady doesn’t touch me for the short walk across the campus to the Student Center. When we enter through the doors, tables are filled with students reading and talking.
“What are you in the mood for?” Brady asks me as his eyes roam across the different fast food places.
“I don’t know.” The last thing I want to do is eat in front of him, but I will never make it through Clinical Psych without something in my stomach. “I think I’m going to get a bagel sandwich.” I point to the bagel place.
“Sounds good.” He puts his hand on the small of my back, leading me that way. His hand radiates a wave of heat throughout my body so I start walking a few steps faster.
“You don’t have to get anything from there,” I tell him, assuming he wouldn’t enjoy it.
“What are you trying to say? A guy can’t like a bagel sandwich? Do you think I should stuff my face with fries and burgers?” His face shows no trace of humor.
“No, that’s not it. It’s just…” I try to backpedal.
“I’m kidding, Sadie. To be honest, I have never tried this place but you have piqued my interest.” We stand away from the shop to look up at the menu. “So, what do you usually get?” he asks.
“The veggie de lite.”
“Are you a vegetarian?” he inquires, sounding like it could be the worst thing in the world.
“Is that a deal breaker for you?” I ask.
“Deal breaker?” he scrunches his eyebrows, confused.
“You know, something you find out about someone that makes you not want to date them,” I answer.
“What’s yours?” he asks.
“I asked first. If I was a vegetarian, would that be a deal breaker?”
“I’m not sure anything I find out about you would be a deal breaker, but to be honest, I don’t understand vegetarians.”
“Hmm.” I turn around to give my order to the cute red head behind the counter who can’t keep her eyes off Brady.
“You never answered. Do you eat meat?” He comes up behind me.
“No, I’m not a vegetarian. I just like the sandwich,” I honestly reply. “I’ll have a veggie de lite with low fat cream cheese,” I say to the girl. Usually I get the garlic and herb spread, but I’m not about to talk to Brady with garlic breath.
“What can I get you?” The red head looks Brady up and down while her co-worker starts to make my sandwich.
“Same, but garlic and herb cream cheese.” He smiles over to me and I’m sure awe fills my face. I’m half tempted to change my order. “I hate that low fat shit.”
“They have meat, you know,” I tell him.
“I know. I want to experience why you like it so much.” He scoots next to me and my heart races when his hand brushes against mine. I quickly make my way down the line away from him.
When we get to the cash register, Brady pulls out a twenty before I can even get in my messenger bag, adding chips and drinks to our meals.
“Don’t pay for me!”
“Why not?” Brady looks around, seeing a few students peering our way after my outburst.
“This is not a date,” I confirm.
“Hey, just because I decide to buy you lunch or dinner or whatever this meal is, doesn’t mean it’s a date.” He softens his voice, getting closer to me.
“It’s just…things get implied with dates.” I’m desperate to compose myself. I don’t want to owe him anything.
“Relax, Sadie. I’ll make you a deal.” He grabs our tray and leads us to a table.
“What?” I take a seat, happy he picked a table in the back.
“You can buy me a meal tomorrow.” He smirks up at me.
“Nice, Carsen.”
“A meal for a meal, then we’re even.” He takes both straws and pounds them on the table until the wrappers fall down. He puts one in mine and the second in his own drink.
“When are your classes tomorrow?” I ask.
“Well…I live off campus and I don’t have classes on Fridays, so it will have to be later.” He takes a bite of his sandwich.
“Later, when?” I ask before I take a bit of mine.
“This is really good, you don’t even miss the meat,” he says, lifting his sandwich. “After my show,” he answers my question.
“I told you the sandwich was good. After the show, what?” I take a sip of my soda.
“I have a show tomorrow night. We will get something after I’m done,” he casually says while he continues to eat his sandwich.
“Sorry, but I’m not going to that bar, house or whatever it is from last week.” I shake my head back and forth.
He laughs. “Good, because we are playing at Aces. I’ll pick you up.”
“Um…no. Let me just give you the money.” I dig through my bag and get the ten dollars out, placing it on the table.
“That’s not the deal. A meal for a meal. Just so you know, after a show I’m so hungry you might get the raw end of this deal,” he jokes.
“I think I already got the raw end. I can’t go to your show tomorrow or out to eat,” I say, putting my sandwich down, suddenly not able to finish it.
“What do I have to do?” he asks me before he pops a chip in his mouth.