Hard to Resist (12 page)

****

After about thirty minutes of processing information and signing up for classes that would best fit my needs, I was finally free of that hot-ass hellhole. Bursting through the doors with my registration papers in hand, I rush for the parking lot but before I can set foot on the black asphalt, a soft melody rings in my ears. It’s the strumming of guitar strings and along with the beautiful sound of the guitar is a deep, delightful voice. I turn to make my way around the building to see where it is coming from. I’ve never heard music so appealing—acoustic music at that. It’s hypnotically alluring.

Rounding the curve of the brick wall, the first thing that I see is his muscular arms and his sculpted chest. He has on a fitted grey tank top and the bare skin that is revealed is glistening with a soft sheen of sweat. A few strands of his hair are sticking to his forehead and I come to a halt as I watch a bead of sweat trickle down and land against his shiny black guitar. I pause as all of my breath is gushed right out of me. Even while he’s sweating bullets, he is unbelievably gorgeous. His luscious eyelashes touch his masculine cheekbones gently as he stops playing to wipe the sweat away from his guitar first and then from his forehead with the hem of his shirt.

Realizing that someone is watching him, he glances up quickly and his grey eyes stare into mine, completely caught off guard.

“Natalie?” Nolan calls as his eyebrows pull together.

Pulling my lips in, I feel the urge to just twist around and rush for my car. But I know that if I do that, he may chase after me just to talk to me. I’ve been trapped by his music. A smile sweeps across his lips as he pulls the strap of his guitar around him and steps down from the picnic table that he was sitting on. He swings his guitar around to place it against his back, causing the strap to press between the crease of his chest. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

“I um . . .,”My sentence falls short as I observe the way his hips sway in his snug cargo shorts. Sweat is all over him. On his chest, beneath his arms, and even against his abs that are beneath his tank. He might as well take it off because I’m sure that by the end of the day, his shirt will be completely drenched. “I heard you playing. I wanted to see who it was.”

“Oh.” His head tilts as he meets up with me. “I hope you liked what you heard instead of thinking it sounded disastrous. Your face was kinda twisted when I looked up. Seems like you hated it.”

“No,” I shake my head quickly. “I—I loved it, Nolan. Where did you learn to play like that?”

“My father taught me how to play when I was only six years old,” he sighs. “He was in a band of his own for a very long time.”

“Oh.”

He pulls his arms in to fold them across his chest. He studies every inch of me but I’m sure that I look like complete shit. “Do you write your own lyrics?” I ask to distract him. As he looks away, he places his thumb beneath his strap and slides it along the leather.

“I do.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize that, um—”

“Realize what?” he asks, his mystic grey eyes meeting mine again.

“I didn’t realize that you liked to play,” I say, completing my sentence that I had cut short purposely to prevent any prolonged conversation with him.

“You’ll learn a lot about me that you may find interesting, Natalie. I actually wrote a song about you. Wanna know what it’s called?”

I gulp heavily as a bead of sweat trickles against my forehead. “What?”

“Soul-stealer.”

“What?
” I frown. “Why is that the title of a song about
me
?”

“Because I’ve been soul-less these past two weeks without you.”

“Because of me?” Folding my arms, I take a step away from him. “If anything, you should write a negative song about yourself, Nolan. I did nothing wrong.”

“You denied me without reason,” he counters. “That was wrong in so many ways.”

My eyes narrow defensively. “You really believe that protecting my already shattered heart is doing something wrong?”

“Natalie, you didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself to you. I had pretty much asked for a chance and you denied me, flat out. Don’t you think that was kind of selfish?” His eyebrows shoot up.

“What’s selfish is the fact that you cheat on innocent girls. Although it’s wrong to cheat period, I can slightly understand why you did it to get back at the ones that hurt you. What I don’t understand is why you would do it to the ones that actually wanted to make it work.”

“Because none of them kept me interested. But with you,” he says, stepping in closer to reach for my face. “With you, there is something different. There is something here for you that I know I won’t get tired of. You’re a challenge that I know I won’t conquer for a very long time and being with someone for a very long time is what I need right now. I need someone that will work with me, not against me. Those girls that you think are innocent, weren’t innocent. They nagged all of the time and accused me of things that I didn’t do. I got so frustrated that I started putting distance between us and did my own thing. You can’t blame me for that.”

My skin buzzes pleasurably and I want to pull away from him but I don’t because the way he’s stroking my flushed cheek actually feels satisfying. I’ve missed his touch over the course of these few days. I’ve missed seeing him smile, make jokes, and even him telling me that I’m beautiful. It bewilders me that I can even miss a person like him. Someone that is probably just as low-down and selfish as Bryson. But he’s made me happy. I didn’t realize it but happiness was there during that
“date”
with Nolan. I felt somewhat complete.

I force myself to pull away from him, though. He stares at me and I clutch my papers in hand before taking a step away. Although this feeling drives me crazy, I can’t let the way he is drive me off the rocket. But, then again, I could use this. Spending time with him helps me to forget all that I’ve been through with Bryson. He’s like a distraction and to be honest, it helps to think of someone else for a change. This past week has been terrible for me. I was reminiscing so much that I felt sick with tears every night. Enough is enough. I can’t continue with this depression anymore.

“Do you play all of the time?” I ask as I take a look at the head of his guitar.

“I play every night.”

I nod as I look over his shoulder to a couple that is walking past, hand-in-hand. I cringe a bit as I watch them disappear. “Well I’m going to an Open Mic session tomorrow,” I state, refusing to let the memories of Bryson get to me. “We should go together to see how it is. Maybe you could play?”

“Oh, no.” He shakes his head, waving his hands disapprovingly. “I don’t sing for anyone but myself.”

“You wouldn’t sing for me?” I ask, stepping to fill the gap just a bit.

Nolan’s head tilts and his lips spread to smile. “Wait—is this you trying to plan a real date with me?” His eyes narrow playfully. “Are you actually willing to help me?”

“Help
you?” I spit as my nose crumples. “This is not about to be a project for me, Nolan. Just like you told me a few weeks ago. All or nothing. We’ll do what feels natural . . . but that’s it. We’ll see what happens as time goes on.”

His white teeth flash and my heart stumbles before reaching the next beat. His smile only makes me want to step out of my lady-like character and hump him all over that picnic table. He steps in and the space between us is no longer there. Reaching to cup my face, he studies my brown eyes again. His sweat spills through my tank and the heat between us sparks with intensity. It’s blazing out right now and I’m sure most would hate to be touched like this while it’s so hot, but I love it. I love the way my body is bubbling with more heat than it needs.

“Everything that I do with you is out of natural instinct,” he says against my lips. “I want this to work, Natalie. There’s nothing that I want more than to see you every day and to know that I can do better. I know I have it in me. It may seem like I’m moving too fast but I’ve been thinking about you way too much to just let this go. I can do it.”

I nod as he pulls his hands away before they can get too sweaty. “Please just don’t screw it up, Nolan. One strike and I’m done.”

“Of course,” he says. “I won’t fuck up. Trust me.”

“Okay.” I smile as I take another step back. “I picked up some light bread yesterday. What do you say to those sandwiches?”

Nolan’s chuckle rumbles as he clutches the strap of his guitar. Stepping forward, he drapes an arm around my shoulder before leading the way towards the parking lot. “I still prefer
Natalie
on mine but I guess ham will do just fine for now.”

I burn scarlet as I try to keep my face hidden. He has a huge habit of making me blush. But at least I’m smiling. After all, this is what I really wanted . . . right?

Chapter Thirteen

“So, seriously,” Nolan says as he picks at a piece of lettuce on his sandwich. “How did you meet Harper? She’s the complete opposite of you.”

I reach for my glass of fruit punch from the coffee table before turning to look at him. He stuffs the last corner of his sandwich into mouth before giving me his full attention. “Harper used to live next door to me. We had lived in the same neighborhood for ages. We kicked it off on the first day that we’d met.” Tucking my leg beneath my butt, I turn to face him while taking a sip of my juice. “Why do you ask?”

“Harper is crazy,” he says through a chuckle. “Not like bat-shit crazy but like party-crazy. I always see her bouncing around at club
LIV
. She gave a blowjob to the manager of that club. You know that right?”

I choke on my drink and force myself to keep my lips sealed to prevent any of it from spilling out. “What?” I croak. “Why would you say that? Harper would never stoop that low.”

“She wouldn’t?” His eyebrows rise smoothly. “The only way that a girl can get an underage friend into that club or even get that friend a pass to drink is if she gives him something worth his time. What man wouldn’t want something in return, just in case he happens to get fired for allowing underage drinking?”

“You’re just making assumptions,” I mutter as I sit my glass down. There is no way in hell that Harper would suck on a man that she hardly knows. The Harper I know would vomit if someone told her to do that. She didn’t do it to Bobby so I wouldn’t expect her to do it to someone like the owner of club
LIV
.

But now that I think about it, Max (the owner of
LIV
) was pretty hot. He was young as well with wavy brown hair and a well-trimmed goatee. He had the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen and he kept up with himself really well. He was far from the word ugly but I’m sure Harper has enough respect for herself to not stoop that low . . . at least I hope she still does. It’s been two years since the last time that I’ve seen her. People change as time goes on, I know that for sure.

“I’m not assuming. I know, Natalie,” Nolan reassures me.

“How would you know that?”

“Because Dawson walked in on her making out with the owner in the men’s bathroom.”

This time, my eyes stretch until they are practically popping out of my head. “Making out . . . with
Max?
” I stand and reach for the plates with the crusts of our bread on them. “So why does Dawson still want to go on a date with her? He doesn’t consider her, like, a whore or anything?”

Nolan sighs as he crosses his arms. “Dawson thinks that he can make every girl that he comes across settle down completely. When he wants a girl, he
wants
her. I’m assuming that he hasn’t found the right one yet but he’s never been unfaithful. He and my brother get on me so much about being a player and being
immature
by trying to get back at the girls that cheated on me. Dawson’s like another brother that is constantly yelling in my ear. They want me to chill out and get serious for once.”

“Oh wow,” I murmur. “Well, good luck to him with that. Harper is a bit wild and to try and tame her now seems kind of impossible. And you’re one to talk. You and Dawson are complete opposites. I can get down with a few parties with Harper but you—” I break off as Nolan’s head whips to look at me. His grey eyes depress and I mentally bite my tongue, refusing to blast him about his flaws. “Let me just go take these in the kitchen,” I mumble before turning around.