Chasing Peace Page 3

  Outside, I head to philosophy with Annie and surprisingly I look forward to seeing her again. Philosophy is a new challenge for me too, but as a freshman level class I’m sure it won’t be all that challenging.

  “Hey, lady in red!” I hear a shout and it reminds me of the woman in the cocktail lounge on Friday night. I smile at having evaded her before feeling immediately guilty for pushing her toward the new piano man, poor guy. “Hey, wait up.”

  Fingers curl around my upper arm, pulling me from Friday’s memory and flinging me headlong into another. I react in terror and self-preservation, the restraining hand on my right arm, my bag on my left and it’s heavy. I whirl right, my bag gaining momentum as it flies in an arc around my body. My aim is spot on heading for his shoulder, neck and head, thanks to self-defense classes this summer.

  Around far enough to see his face, I realize my mistake. I try to stop, really I do, but the momentum gets the best of me, my bag jerking on my arm as I try to restrain it, pulling me off balance, mid spin.

  I’m headed for an inglorious fall right at the feet of a stranger, not the man I expected. Okay, maybe I’ll land a little to the right. My bag has some serious momentum and is now hauling me along behind.

  He reacts more quickly than I. My sideways slide is arrested when his arm slips beneath mine, knocking my breath away as I land against his chest and stop short. My underarm is secure in the crook of his elbow. My cheek, nose and half my mouth are pushed into the leather of his jacket. My hips are angled perpendicular to his. My knees buckled leaving my feet resting sideways on the cement. It feels like forever although the logical part of my mind tells me it’s only seconds.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mmmf Hmmmf.” My voice is muffled by his jacket as I try to get my feet under me, my shoes scrabbling on the sidewalk.

  “Here. Let me help.” His free hand cups my right elbow and he lifts until my eyes are level with his mouth and my feet are underneath me.

  “I’m so sorry. I thought you were someone else,” I apologize.

  “I should hope so. I can’t imagine you meet many new people like that.” A smile hovers around his mouth and when I finally tear my eyes away, raising my gaze to his, I find the same smile lurking in his eyes as they sparkle with mirth.

  Something inside me jolted and then fell, much like that falling sensation when you drop off to sleep. I feel foolish, whether in response to my swing, the laughter in his eyes or the hands still holding me. I look away. My cheeks are flaming hot and I can’t quite catch my breath as we stand in the middle of the walkway, people streaming by on either side.

  I step back awkwardly, dropping my bag as the fingers under my elbow slide to my wrist before falling away while the other arm skims the side of my breast until he pulls away too. For some reason making eye contact with this guy is uncomfortable. My eyes skate away when he looks at me.

  “Where are you headed?” He bends down, lifting my bag from the ground. “I’ll walk you.”

  “I don’t need a keeper,” I snap, irritated by his mirth and my own discomfort. “I can walk myself.” His eyes sparkle and his lips quirk in response, one lifted eyebrow questioning my abilities.

  “Of course,” he says, shoving his fingers through hair in need of a trim, he looks up from under his brow, chagrin marring his features, a question in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I startled you. I saw you in logic and just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Boston.” He held out his hand in expectation, a challenge in his eyes that I try not to meet.

  I’m suspicious but unable to determine his intent without looking more closely than is comfortable. Instead, I’m petulant and insulting. “Strange name.”

  “You work at the lounge in The Chambers Hotel right?” he asks dropping his hand to his side.

  Curiosity gets the better of me. “I do.”

  “I’m the new piano player, Boston Massey.”

  Actually, his name is more intriguing than strange and against my better judgment I ask, “Were you born there?”

  “No.” That’s all he says, just a flat monosyllabic response.

  “I’m sorry.” I’m contrite and resigned. “I have better manners that that. I’m Sterling.” I finally meet his eyes and their dark gaze makes my stomach churn and my throat tighten.

  “Strange name. Are you silver?” A sweeping smile lightened his eyes to the golden colors of autumn as a shout of laughter popped out of my mouth. “Let’s go,” he says, catching my hand and pulling me along. “Where to?”

  “Sandborne hall, Philosophy.” After a few steps, he drops my hand, prowling beside me with what feels like heat radiating from him, unless that’s me.

  Now that I’ve met him, I feel bad about sticking him with the lady in red. “I’m sorry I sicced the dragon lady on you,” I apologize.

  “What?”

  My steps slow as I try to find the right words. “Remember the lady in red from work on Friday?”

  He stopped walking and turned toward me. “Wait you mean the older lady who hung out at the piano all night?”

  “I did it on purpose,” I hedge, looking away from his eyes again, watching my fingers massage the back of my wrist. “She gave me a hard time so I sent her your way.”

  “Yeah, I remember her. I had to fend her off all night.” He’s smiling again. I can hear it in his voice prompting me to look. The corners of his eyes crinkle, his lips curl, and a small dimple appears just below the spot where the top and bottom lip come together.

  “Sorry bout that. Although in my defense, your timing couldn’t have been worse. I had no trouble convincing her you were singing for her.”

  “She may have been wearing red, but I didn’t notice.” He grins as I look away, my eyes sliding sideways again. Grabbing my arm and encouraging me to turn back in his direction he asks, “What did she do?”

  I resume walking as I tell him about her demand for a drink and threat to my job if I didn’t deliver.

  “You did the right thing. Besides, I’m there for the ladies.” He swaggered a bit as he said it, “that’s my job.”

  “I thought you played piano.”

  “That too. I’m just a renaissance man.”

  I laugh at his lack of modesty. “That’s good to know. I’ll send all the bitches your way.” I smirk with mock evil intent, taking the edge off my threat.

  “So you’re old enough to tend bar. Twenty-one?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Good guess. You’re old enough to work in the lounge too, but you’re not twenty-one.”

  “No, twenty-five and a junior. I’m a late bloomer.”

  I chuckle at that and agree. “I got started late too. I’m a freshman.”

  Boston lets out a low whistle between his teeth. “Damn. I’ve got this rule against dating freshmen.”

  “That’s good because I’ve got this rule against dating guys.”

  “You’re gay?” he says with a frown, his brows drawn together in confusion. “I totally misread that one.”

  “No. I’m not gay. I just don’t know you and I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship Sterling? We’ve already met. We work together and have a class together. If we’re going to spend time together, we may as well be friends.”

  We’re at Sandborne now and I don’t agree, but I don’t disagree either.

  “Walk together again on Thursday?” he asks.

  I want to say no, but I give in. This guy challenges me as if he knows I’m trying to avoid him.

  “Okay. I promise I won’t try to whack you with my bag next time.” I feel a flirtatious smile tug at my lips as I turn toward the door. My hand on the handle, I’d almost escaped when I heard it.

  “Your jacket is red.” He backed away, with hands shoved in his jacket pockets.

  “What?” I look down at my white tee and plaid shirt, no jacket in sight.

  “Your jacket at work … it’s red.” He shrugs with hands still in his pockets and
an “aw shucks” expression, like he couldn’t help himself. Then he turned and jogged off.

  I’d never even thought about the dark red, almost burgundy uniform jacket I wore. Everyone at the hotel wore that color, except Lyla and now Boston. He wears a dark suit.

  * * *

  I hustle into Sandborne only to find Annie waiting by the door.

  “Who’s that?”

  “A guy from my logic class.”

  “Ooh. Do tell.”

  “Nothing to tell. Turns out he recognized me from work so we walked over together.” Breathless and taut, I walk beside Annie, not yet ready to tell her any more.

  “Mmm Hmm.” She nods her head, speculation in her tone.

  “Do you know where we’re going?” I ask, desperate to change the subject. The encounter with Boston has left me jittery when I want nothing more than to focus on school.

  “Yes. Do you realize we didn’t exchange numbers and I couldn’t find you anywhere?” Annie sounded almost panicked.

  “Didn’t think about it,” I say, handing over my phone. “Besides, we have this class together.”

  We wander into the room as Annie calls herself, handing back my phone when hers starts to ring. I head toward the front, not really paying attention while saving her contact.

  Annie grabs my arm, “Wait.... We can’t sit up there,” hauling me over to a couple of seats near the back.

  She’s right. We can’t sit up front. Staking out seats near the back is a much better idea. I pull off my worn plaid, revealing a plain white tee and jeans. It’s unusually cool outside for September, but it’s warm in here. I half listened as Annie chattered on about her classes.

  “I just came from Intro to Shakespeare and let me tell you, it’s going to be the most horrid experience I’ve ever had with Shakespeare.”

  “Aren’t they all?” I drawl.

  She continued, completely missing my sarcasm. “Of course I know my Shakespeare and thought it’d be easy, but the instructor is unreasonable. Would you believe...”

  I watch Annie as her voice becomes muffled by the lightweight fleece she drags over her head before taking a seat. She’s wearing a black baby tee with blue jeans and black cowboy boots. The jeans are designer and the boots obviously hand made with elaborate cutouts that reveal brown leather below. Annie continued her monologue while I moved to her jewelry. The lush platinum bracelet and understated diamonds winking in her ears must have cost a fortune, but she wears them well, as if they’re nothing special. She had obviously dressed down during a week when most freshman girls would be wearing their best, her look casual only to the casual observer.

  When I Look at Annie, I see she’s wealthy but I also see that money matters not a wit. I guess most people wear who they are or where they come from just as obviously. My brow furrows in thought as I wonder what Boston and Annie might be like together.

  “Are you listening to me?” she demanded.

  “Hmmm?”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I answer, no longer distracted. “Your Shakespeare instructor is whacked and wants you to explain why he’s great, Shakespeare, not the instructor. What’s wrong with that?”

  “I thought this would be easy, ya know, covering everything I’ve already learned. Now I have to work on something new, something I don’t know.”

  “It’s why we’re here.”

  “Yes, yes.” Annie ignored my seriousness. “Hey, I almost forgot, there’s a frat party Thursday night to kick-off the new term. We should go.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want to be distracted by parties and stuff. I really need to focus on school.”

  Annie cajoled, “Oh come on. It’s just one party. You don’t really have any homework yet anyway”

  “I’ve got a ton of reading and two assignments already and this is only my second day,” I protest even though I know the work won’t take long.

  “Come on,” she tempts with bright eyes and an eager smile. “It’ll be fun. You can invite your guy from logic class?” Her eyebrows waggle suggestively and I burst out laughing.

  “Okay. Okay.” I concede, thinking there is no way in hell I’m asking him.

  Before we could discuss plans for Thursday, Professor Campbell walked in. As Campbell went over the syllabus, I thought about maybe setting up Annie with Boston. She’s sweet and I think he’s a good guy. They’d make a great couple.

  “So we’re on for Thursday night?” Annie confirmed as soon as class let out.

  “I guess so.”

  “Don’t go getting all excited,” she grouched, but brightened again almost immediately. “And don’t forget to ask your new friend.”

  “Who?” I ask, knowing exactly who she means.

  “That hot guy you were talking to earlier,” she teases.

  “Yeah, maybe I’ll ask him.” My voice trails off as my mind begins churning. If Annie’s interested, he’ll be off limits and I won’t have to worry about breaking my own rules. I smile thinking this might work out after all.

  “Woo Hoo! We’re going to our first party.” She dances in a circle wiggling her shoulders and butt, embarrassing the hell out of me.

  “If you keep that up, I can’t be seen in public with you.” She stopped as I zipped my bag shut. “So where is it?” I ask, slinging my bag over my shoulder and following her to the door.

  “No worries. I’ll drive,” she offers. “Meet me at the south campus sandwich shop at ten.”

  “Isn’t that kind of late?”

  “It’s the perfect time to arrive. We don’t want to be too eager.”

  * * *

  I try to work up the courage to ask Boston to the party as we walk from logic to philosophy, but I wimp out. We talked about the first week of classes, a logic assignment, and Lyla, but I couldn’t work up the nerve to ask him to the party. I’d considered using Annie as bait, but with my luck, she’d show up with a guy.

  Boston stops at the steps to Sandborne. “Can I ask you something?” He shoves his fists into his pockets and bounces his foot off the lowest step. He’s wearing Chucks and I watch as the rubber toe collides with the step, bounces back and then swings forward again as if he’s kicking it.

  “Sure.” I watch his face, not bothered by his eyes right now because he seems to have trouble meeting mine.

  His foot hits the stair, bounces back, hits the step again. “Do you work tonight?”

  “No, only Fridays and Saturdays.” I pause and then begin speaking, but our words collide.

  “Would you like to do….”

  “About tonight….”

  I laugh, nervous again after botching the question. His toe stops kicking into the step and he finally looks at me.

  “Sorry Sterling. Go ahead”

  “I was gonna say that I’m going to a party tonight with my friend Annie. You?”

  He laughs, his eyes crinkling as they reflect the gold and amber colored leaves clinging tenaciously to the surrounding trees. “I was going to ask if you wanted to hang out tonight, but you already have plans….”

  “You wanna come with us?” I blurt as my eyes slide away and my courage ebbs.

  “You sure?”

  I’m not sure of anything, but a thrill courses through me at the possibility and I shiver, not the cold shiver of death passing by, instead the heated pulse of hope. “I don’t know … yeah.” Unable to bear his eyes pinning me down, I duck my head.

  “Then yes I’ll come. It sounds like fun.”

  My mind chants, He said yes! He said yes! “We’re meeting at the sandwich shop at the south end of campus at ten. Good?”

  “Great. I’ll meet you there.” He starts up the steps, landing on the third before pausing. “Wait. I’m going this way.” He points away from the building, laughing at himself.

  “I’m going this way.” I point toward the building and smile.

  He jumped the three steps and I stand staring as he jogs down the sidewalk, turning back to wave when he reaches the end.
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  Heading into class, I think about how he looked when I asked. He looked like someone who’d won the lottery and might just grab and kiss a stranger on the street. Realization dawned. Damn! He’d been asking me out. I hope this isn’t a mistake. It doesn’t feel like a mistake, although Logan and Brock didn’t feel like mistakes at the time either. Walking into philosophy, I search for Annie. She saved me a seat. That’s when I remember I can still try to get Boston and Annie together.

  Chapter 4

  “All of the above. You’ll love him,” I say, talking up Boston for Annie’s benefit. I want to convince her he could be the man of her dreams.

  We’re at the sandwich shop meeting up for the party. The place is an eclectic mix of mismatched furniture in comfortable groupings with dim lighting. It’s a study in texture in both the decor and the variety of students who enjoy the place. Everyone is welcome and it’s a popular spot on campus that serves up the best coffee.

  “Doesn’t matter what I think. You’re the one who has to love him.”

  I laugh. I guess I need to be more clear. “He’s not for me. I’m not interested in dating right now. I think he’d be perfect for you though.” I feel a momentary twinge because I’m pretty sure Boston is interested in me, but I’m not ready for a relationship with him or anyone else right now. Timing is everything, so I brush off my concerns. If he thinks I might be interested, he’s dead wrong. I have nothing to give and everything to lose, so I’m not going there. Besides, I’m sure he’ll like Annie just fine.

  “Listen Sterling,” Annie counsels as if she’s got a great truth to reveal. “I’m in a relationship right now, so even if I might have been interested, in another time or another place, I’m already committed.”

  “Who’s the guy?” I ask, as the fact that we barely know each other registers.

  “I met him in the Hamptons this past summer and we hit it off.” Her eyes don’t go soft. There’s no dopey smile and no far-off expression. I don’t believe she loves him, but that doesn’t always matter. I’m a firm believer that love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.