Playing Patience (11 page)

“Okay, you hold it like this,” he said as he positioned the boy’s hands properly.

Then I watched as he very patiently helped Alex pick each part of the chorus. When he was done, he looked up at Zeke like he was a god. It was so adorable.

“Good job, kid,” Zeke said as he ruffled Alex’s hair. “Now, see if you can do it by yourself.”

He praised Alex when he hit the right chords, then softly chuckled and helped him when he didn’t. It was like watching a completely different person and somehow I knew I was seeing the real Zeke.

I reached down to scratch my leg and it brought attention to me. Right in front of my face, Zeke turned into the asshole. His back went stiff and his eyes pinched at the corners.

“Okay, that’s enough for today. Y’all go play,” he said in a stern voice.

Alex smiled up at him, thanked him, and then ran off with the other boys. I heard him say something about being a rock star as he passed me.

“If there’s a guitar in a five-mile radius you find it, huh?” I asked as I sat beside him.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He didn’t look up at me as he picked at it and tuned it.

“Where’d you get that one?”

“Some kid brought it in and left it on the bleachers,” he answered.

“You’re really good with that thing.” I pointed at the guitar.

He grinned up at me. “I’m really good with a lot of things.”

Somehow I knew the flirty, sexual innuendo side of Zeke was a front. I’m not sure how I knew it, but I just did.

“You don’t have to do that with me, you know?” I wasn’t sure if I was headed in the right direction, but I felt like I should make it clear that I wasn’t judgmental.

“Do what?” His brows turned down in confusion.

“Pretend. I saw you with Alex. You’re a nice guy, Zeke. I don’t know why you insist on playing the asshole.”

“I don’t pretend anything. What you see is what you get.” He glared at me.

“If you say so.” I smiled at him and shook my head. There was no way in hell I’d let him intimidate me with those deep eyes.

It was too late. I’d been given a peek into an alternate Zeke universe, and nothing he could tell me would convince me otherwise. He was nice guy who played the part of the asshole.

I took the guitar from him and ran my thumb across the strings. It made an awful noise and I cringed.

“Well, I suck at the guitar.” I giggled.

He didn’t laugh. He just stared back at me like he was pissed off about something. Then out of nowhere he came over and adjusted the guitar in my arms.

“You’re holding it wrong,” he said.

I jerked when he touched my hand to move it down in the right position. I wasn’t sure if he noticed how uncomfortable it made me to be touched, but if he did, he didn’t mention it.

“There. Does that feel more comfortable?” he asked.

It did and I looked up at him and nodded. He slung his head to the side and shifted his overly long bangs out of his face. I loved when he did that.

“Put your finger here,” he instructed.

Again, he reached down and touched my fingers as he put them in position. His hands were rough and warm. And even though I’d had the initial jerk, the more he touched my fingers, the less uncomfortable it became. This was a revelation for me, since from the time my dad started coming in my room, I’d rarely let anyone but my mom and Sydney touch me.

“Now, strum it,” he said.

I did and it sounded so much better.

He reached down again and rearranged my fingers against the strings. I felt a soft pull in my lower stomach as he softly moved my index finger and pressed it down.

“Again.” He was closer now and still I wasn’t bothered by his closeness.

I ran my thumb across the strings again, and again it sounded good. This continued, him moving my fingers and telling me to strum the strings until finally I could hear the song I was playing. It was the same song he’d been playing when I walked in. Except my version was a slower, crappier version.

“I know this song,” I said. “What is it?”

Finally, he grinned down at me and shifted his bangs again. His lip piercing captured my attention and I had to stop myself from looking at his mouth. He must have caught me looking because his grin got bigger. He leaned in closer; his breath shifted the hair around my ear.

“Patience.” The way he said my name sent a wave of heat down my spine. “By Guns and Roses… It’s your anthem.”

I felt my cheeks heat up.

“You were playing it when I came in,” I said as I fiddled with the guitar again. Anything I could do to keep my eyes away from his.

It was starting to make me uncomfortable how
comfortable
I was with him. He was a stranger for crying out loud and a mean one at that. I should be deathly afraid of this dude, but instead, I felt safe around him. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he’d saved me twice now or maybe we had some freaky cosmic connection. All I knew was being around him was nice. I didn’t have to put up any fronts or play the governor’s daughter. I didn’t have to pretend to give a shit about fashion or be the best soccer player on the field. I could just sit and be me. I didn’t have to pretend to be the Patience that everyone else thought I was because he didn’t give a shit either way.

“I was.” His eyes were darker.

He really knew how to pull off that dark and dangerous look.

“Do you like playing that song?” I asked casually as I handed him the guitar.

He picked at the strings a bit and then shrugged. “Not really.”

“Then why were you?” I adjusted my tank top and sat back in my chair.

He played a little tune and shot me with another sexy grin.

“It reminds me of you.”

Nine

Zeke

The minute the words came out of my mouth I regretted them. The sweet, pink blush that covered her cheeks was the main reason. The other reason was because it sounded like something a pussy whipped punk would say. I completely ignored the fact that it was true. I was playing that song while waiting for her to show up. No one needed to know I was actually kind of looking forward to our little words war. It was fun teasing her and getting under her skin. It kept me from thinking about the fact that I wanted to get under her panties even more.

Thankfully, she didn’t respond or make me explain. Because of that, I instantly liked her more. Most women would have questioned and beat that confession to death, not Patience. She was much too good for that. Instead, she smiled back at me and then jumped up and went to play ball with the boys. Again, I enjoyed the gym shorts view for the rest of my hour.

Afterward, when I saw her sitting on the sidewalk, I just pulled up and she opened the passenger-side door and got in. I didn’t have to ask and she didn’t pretend like she didn’t need a ride. I’m not sure why I did it. My gas hand was low and I didn’t have two dimes to rub together, but it just felt like the right thing to do.

The drive to her house was a quiet one and again, I appreciated the fact that she was so different from most girls. Most girls couldn’t sit and enjoy a peaceful ride with just the radio on low. Most girls felt the need to pollute the silence with overdramatic nonsense. Not Patience. She stared out the window and every now and again I’d catch her nodding her head to the music and smile. She had a beautiful smile, one chock-full of honesty and genuine sweetness. I liked to see her smile.

Once we got closer to her house, that smile slipped from her lips.

“You can let me out here,” she said as she leaned up like she was ready to dart from my car.

“I can take you all the way. I don’t mind.” I continued to drive.

“No, please just stop the car here.” She suddenly seemed tense and annoyed.

I pulled over onto the side of the road and turned toward her.

“What’s the deal?” I asked.

Better question, why did I care? If she wanted to get out of my car, then by all means, get the fuck out, but something wasn’t right. Something was off. She went from peaceful and smiley to tense and worried in a matter of seconds.

“Nothing, I just feel like jogging from here.” She turned to get out and sent me a big fake smile.

I reached out and grabbed her arm. A quick moment of terror rushed through her expression and then melted away just as quickly. She’d done the same thing earlier when I touched her hand to show her how to play the guitar. It was brief, but I didn’t miss it.

“Cut the shit, snowflake. What’s going on?” I asked.

She sat back, looked up at the ceiling of my car, and sighed.

“My dad told me to stay away from you.”

I took a minute to celebrate the fact that she didn’t try to correct me on her name. I liked snowflake. It fit her so well.

“Gotcha. You should definitely listen to what Daddy says.” I grinned over at her.

“Yeah, it’s just easier I guess.” She shrugged.

“Although…” I leaned over closer to her. Her unique smell swarmed around me. “What’s the fun in that?”

She looked up at me through her long lashes and took a deep breath. I liked that I affected her. It was only fair since she affected me. I wanted to move in closer. I wanted to touch her. Mostly because she was so damn untouchable and I had a rebellious streak in me that was ten miles long, but also because I was starting to wonder stupid shit. Shit like what her hair felt like and if her cheek was as soft as it looked.

I needed a swift kick in the ass. What would my boys think if they could hear my thoughts?

Then she caught me off guard by reaching up and running her finger across my lip ring. Her fingertip felt soft against my lip and some strange part of me that I didn’t know wanted to kiss her fingertip. It was the most out of character thing ever… for me, and I think for her, too. Nothing shocked me anymore and it was strange that something so innocent managed to.

She pulled her hand back like my mouth was full of snakes and then looked away from me. She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, but it was as defiant as I felt and it slipped back out. I reached up and captured it in my fingers. Her hair was indeed as soft as it looked. I didn’t miss the odd expression on her face as I tucked the piece of hair behind her ear again. I should have stopped there, but instead, I ran my finger down her baby-soft cheek.

“What is this?” Her voice cracked.

The question brought me back to myself and I snatched my hand away. I did the first thing I could think of that would make the moment disappear. I leaned back and grabbed the crotch of my pants.

“What this? Come here. I’ll show you.”

The glazed look in her eyes vanished and she glared over at me. Without saying another word, she popped open my door and jumped out. I watched as she started to jog toward her house. I waited until she was in her yard before I pulled away.

Ten minutes later, I was stranded on the side of the road out of gas and waiting for Finn to bring me some. An hour and about ten text messages and phone calls later, I finally gave up on Finn and called my dad. He wasn’t too happy about having to bring me gas. When he got there, he said nothing to me. He pulled up, rolled his window down, and pushed a red can of gas out the window at me. I took it from him and watched as he pulled away.

When I finally made it home for the night, all I wanted to do was grab a shower and go to bed. But the minute I walked in the door, I was hit with the raunchy smell of beer and Marlboros and I knew I was in for a rough night.

I barely made it through my bedroom door before he was on my back and punching me. Only a bitch hit a man from behind. I wanted to tell him what a bitch I thought he was, but instead, I stood my ground as he went in on me. He threw a few upper cuts to my ribs and I fell back against the paper-thin trailer wall. I messed up and moved my hands away from my face and he took the opportunity to land a hard punch straight to my right eye. An explosion of pain rang through my head and I dropped. When I woke up, it was two in the morning, the trailer door was wide open, and my dad was passed out in my mom’s chair.

I skipped school the next day since my right eye was blood red and surrounded by a mean-ass bruise. Instead of school, I went over to Finn’s so I could kick his ass for not showing up.

“Sorry, bro. I got stuck with a one-nighter who wouldn't leave. I finally got her out around ten this morning,” he said as he crashed onto his couch and sighed.

“You know how to get a one-night stand to leave, right?” I said as I picked up the rolling papers and started to roll a joint.

“No. Please enlighten me, oh great one.” He waved his hands around like he was summoning someone. I kicked him, making him laugh.

“If you want a one night stand to leave, all you have to do is pull out your wallet and ask how much you owe her.”

Finn burst into laughter. “Damn, that’s fucked up, dude. Leave it to you to come up with some shit like that.”

Once I was done rolling up some green, I lit the joint and took a long, hard hit. I strained to hold it in as long as possible as I passed it to Finn.

“So, what happened to the eye?” he asked as he blew out his hit.

I tried to come up with a damn good excuse, but my head felt all fogged out. Not that I was making it any better by smoking weed and getting high. When I didn’t respond quick enough, Finn started in on me.

“I hope you at least kicked their ass.”

I didn’t say anything. Instead, I cut my eyes at him and gave him a look that said I did.

Who knew? Maybe next time would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Maybe next time I’d get tired of being his punching bag and I’d haul off and beat my dad to death. Sometimes, that’s what I felt like doing when he went off on me. The thought of spending the rest of my life in jail wasn’t very appealing and I was already planning on leaving Dad’s house very soon. I could take his shit for just a few months more. I’d done it for years. What’s a few more months?

If I had the choice, I would’ve skipped community service, too, but again, the jail time thing wasn’t something I wanted to do. So, after spending the day with Finn and smoking entirely too much weed, I drove over to the Boy’s Club. Patience met me at the door. She had a light glistening of sweat over her face and her eyes were unusually bright. Guess what they say is true—exercise is good for you. She looked vibrant and full of energy, while I felt like finding the nearest bed and taking an all-night nap.