Beast Brothers 2

I’ve studied them, I know what they mean and what they refer to, but right now they are just marks on a paper, and instead of seeing them, I’m remembering his lean hand gripping the pen, and how I watched the muscles in his forearm flex as he wrote.

It’s Saturday night. Aidan will be on stage later, flexing those muscles and so many more for an adoring crowd.

I stare at the formulas, waiting for them to turn back into something that makes sense, but instead my mind is playing a movie for me, showing me Aidan strutting, shirtless, singing his soulful, sexy songs.

As if his dark eyes are mesmerizing me straight through my memories, I slam my notes closed, put on a little makeup, and head out before I can think too much about what I’m doing.

I know it’s stupid, I know it’s going to hurt, and I know I’m probably going to feel even worse later, but somehow I can’t stop myself. I cross campus, and soon I’m walking among the crowds headed to see Throwback.

I don’t go in until I hear the chanting. I don’t want to risk running into him. I slip in right before the show starts and I stay in the back of the room. The lights are down, and the crowd’s calls continue until the first guitar chords break through the noise. Then the stage is suddenly ablaze and the guys are all out there, Aidan front and center.

They tear into their opening number, a harder rocking song than the one they’d opened with last time, and Aidan howls out the lyrics, almost sounding in pain at times:

You

You’re like fire

Your flame sparks my desire

But you’d best forget my name

I’m not the one who came

For you ...

The crowd seems harder rocking than last time too, matching the band’s energy, even way back here at the back of the room. Aidan looks amazing, of course. Tight jeans stretched across his muscular thighs, pale t-shirt already clinging to his chest.

I watch him work his fans into a frenzy and I blink my eyes, wondering how this is same man who teaches me chemistry and introduced me to his dad. I remember feeling special, knowing those other sides of him, but now I’m almost wishing I didn’t know. Sexy as he is up there, I could look away from another hot lead singer, but I can’t look away from Aidan and all that I know he is.

“Something new. I hope you all liked it,” Aidan says, his mouth close in to the mike, as the first song ends. Responses come in loud cheers and Throwback starts into their second number, one I recognize from their last two shows.

After that first one, most of the songs are ones I’ve heard before, but somehow they all sound darker tonight. Aidan’s singing seems to have a hard edge to it, like the songs are about pain and loss instead of sex and sinning, the way they all sounded that first night I heard him perform. I know I must be projecting my own feelings on what I’m hearing, but I can’t shake the sensation that it’s a different show tonight.

Even though it’s torture to be here, to watch him and hear him, and see all the screaming girls and wonder which one he’ll take home, I stay for the whole show. My heart hasn’t even started to heal, but I stay and let the wound get cut open again.

I don’t hang around afterwards though. As soon as the house lights come on, I head for the exit, and I make sure I’m down the road before the band comes out for autographs. I don’t need to see Aidan flirting with his groupies.

Chapter 23

Amber

Megan’s back at the dorm when I return, and she’s still awake. Shit! I wasn’t thinking, and I’m not prepared to face her after my visit to the bar.

“Hey,” she says, looking me up and down, trying to draw clues from my appearance. “Hot date tonight?”

I try to quickly come up with a story about where I’ve been so that I don’t have to tell her the truth, but my brain is too tired to invent a good excuse. I stare at her and last about five seconds before my face crumbles and I start crying. Damn it!

Megan’s at my side instantly, putting her arms around me. “Aw, honey, what’s wrong?” She rubs my back and it feels good, even though I’m furious that I’ve broken down.

“It’s nothing,” I say, managing to compose myself, grateful that I’ve not quite headed into ugly-cry territory. “I went to see Aidan tonight.”

“What happened? What did he do?” She sounds ready to jump to my defense, and her concern touches me. I know she worships Aidan and the fact that she’s lining up as my friend, rather than his fan, means a lot.

“He didn’t do anything,” I say, and with those words, I start to cry again.

Megan leads me over to the bed, sits next to me and waits patiently, letting me cry. After a few minutes, she says softly, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I say, after wiping my nose with a tissue she hands me. “I mean, nothing’s going on. I thought something was, and then … nothing. Tonight I went out to watch the band. Just to torture myself.”

“Wow, you went out to the bar alone? You must have it bad,” she says, with a gently mocking tone. Seeing my frown, she continues, “So let me guess. You and Aidan had sex and then he dropped you?”

The fact that she’s ready to be angry on my behalf makes me feel a tiny bit better. “No, we didn’t have sex,” I say. “We did some stuff, but we didn’t even get that far.”

“So what happened?” Megan asks again.

I fill her in on the texting and the study date at Aidan’s house, without going into detail, and then tell her how he hasn’t been in contact, and how he acts like there’s nothing between us when I’ve seen him since then.

“Maybe he’s just busy,” she says. “He’s in his senior year, right? I’m sure he has a lot going on — he’ll have senior projects and graduation stuff on top of his normal classes.”

It’s nice of her to suggest some explanation, and I wish I could believe her, but Megan herself is the one who told me what a player Aidan was on the very night I met him. She knows as well as I do that I had no right to expect any more from him. I know it’s foolish to be grieving over something that never was, but here I am.

Deciding to change the subject, I say, “How was your night?”

“It was fine, but Eric is acting weird.”

“Yeah? How so?”

Megan gets up and starts to put away some of the clothes on her bed. “I don’t know. We’ve always gotten along so well; we can talk about anything. He just seems different, like he’s distracted, or doesn’t want to be around.”

“He always wants to be around you,” I say, laughing a little. Megan shoots me a look. “Maybe he’s just busy,” I say.

“No, he’s not. He’s flying through all his classes. That’s not it. I asked him what was wrong, but he said nothing. There’s something, though; I just don’t know what it is.”

With a shrug, she clips a hanger to a skirt. “I’ll find out eventually, I guess. So what are you going to do about the tutoring?”

“I can’t stop going,” I say. “Part of me wishes I could, but I need his help to make sure I pass chemistry. He’s a really good teacher.” It’s my turn to shrug. “I’ll just have to deal with it. The semester’s almost over, anyway.”

I wish I felt as nonchalant as I sound.

Chapter 24

Aidan

My first tutoring student of the day is not getting my best. I'm distracted, wondering if Amber will show up.

She didn’t text me to confirm our session today, and I know she

has to be wondering what’s up with me. With us. Every time I saw her on campus this week and acted like she was no one special, I felt like a jerk.

What can I do, though? It’s better to hurt her now than to get more involved and really hurt her later. That’s what I tell myself. But every time someone comes through the door of the tutoring center, I look over to see if it’s her. And even though I know sitting next to her and not touching her will be a struggle, I hope she shows. I’d rather suffer than not see her at all.

If only there was some way to spend more time with her without things getting complicated. But no matter how much I like her, she’s a relationship kind of girl, and I am just not that kind of guy.

The tutoring session finally ends, and I hope I did the poor guy some good. I hang out by the front desk, hands in my pockets, watching the door from the corner of my eye. Feeling like some nervous high school kid about to go to the prom.

When Amber finally comes through the door, she looks nothing like the bright-eyed girl who teases me back and calls me on my bullshit. Her shoulders are slumped, her head down.

Then she looks up and sees me. Her shoulders come back, her chin comes up, and she meets my eyes as she approaches.

I know exactly what she’s doing: putting on a brave front, trying not to let me see that I’ve hurt her. But she can’t hide the pain in her beautiful eyes, and knowing I put it there makes me feel like a major asshole.

“Are we on for this morning?” she asks. Her tone is cool and it’s like a knife in my stomach.

“Of course.” I lead her to a table in the center of the room. As we get settled, I wrestle with myself, knowing it’s better not to bring it up, but I can’t keep the words in. “I thought I’d hear from you to confirm our session.”

She sets her notebook down on the table with more force than necessary. “Is there somewhere else you need to be?”