Toxic (Ruin, #2)(14)

“Maybe I like it when people don’t fight back,” he snapped.
“If you’re that angry the last thing you need is to get into trouble. It will just make you more angry.”
“Says Miss Perfect,” he growled. “Tell me, is it curiosity, or are you really just stalking me? Taking me up on my first offer?”
“First offer?”
He leaned closer to me and offered a half grin. “To make your pony blush.”
I felt my cheeks burn as I glanced down at the carpeted floor.
“Oh, so you are taking me up on my offer.” He grinned and trapped me against the door. “Maybe it will help your music.”
“I don’t need help,” I murmured, still not looking up.
“Passion.” He ignored me, leaning in so I could almost taste him. “Music and passion are one. And I’ve never seen anyone so lacking in my entire life.”
I flinched as if he’d just slapped me across the face. With a grunt, I tried to push him away from me but he wouldn’t move.
“I’m a great tutor.”
“I don’t doubt it. But I’m not interested in a one night stand.”
“So you say.” His hand moved down my arm. I shivered. “But your body says something else entirely.” His lips grazed my ear and then my neck. I arched toward him, not realizing that I was pressed fully against him until it was too late. His warm chuckle should have infuriated me. Instead, it made me want to reach out, to touch him back.
See? He was a damn siren!
His mouth found mine, and I was lost. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice… well…
I’d never been one of those girls. The girl that kissed random strangers. I mean, seriously. I really did have a purple pony in my room.
His tongue found mine. I moaned as his hands tugged at my shirt. He smelled like fresh soap and spices. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
With a growl he pulled back, his eyes flashing. “We doing this here?”
“Wh-what?” My eyes darted round the room with confusion. What was he talking about? Palms sweaty, I wiped them on my jeans and took a hesitant step away from his muscled body.
His mocking chuckle vibrated off the walls of the room. “So, we doing it here? Or did you have someplace special you wanted to go for your first time? I mean, normally I don’t do charity cases, but I could light a candle if you want.”
I reared back, tears burning at the back of my throat. He caught my hand mid air.
“Tsk–tsk… and I’m the one who needs anger management.” He winked. “Nice playing with you, Freshman, but if you don’t wanna play then you’re just wasting my time, and I’m really…” His eyes darkened. “…really careful how I spend my time.”
“I think I may hate you,” I breathed.
“Hate’s a good emotion.” He finally released me. “Fill your heart with hate, then maybe it won’t hurt as much. That’s what I always say.” His smile was sad as he calmly stepped away. “Use it.”
“Wh-what?” My head was still spinning.
“The hate. Use it while you play.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but he was already halfway down the hallway by the time I could think of anything smart in response.
Once he reached the end of the hall he called back, “Interrupt my private session again, and I’ll take that as an invitation. Believe me, you don’t want to experience that, especially since you hate me.”
As he disappeared around the corner, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Clearly, I’d completely lost my mind. My lips buzzed from our kiss. I should have run away. I should have slapped him! Instead I let him maul me… again.
Stressed. That was it. I was stressed and overworked and it didn’t help that when I’d pleaded for the second time this week to get out of the stupid Freshman Seminar project, my professor had threatened me. Again.
I was going to have to start practicing late at night if I had any hope to impress the professors at the end-of-the-year recital. My scholarship depended on my ability to play.
My ability to make the professors believe I was worth the free ride they’d given me at this school.
Shaking thoughts of the dark stranger away from my head, I decided to stay in the same practice room he’d left. After all, I was already there and it wasn’t like he was coming back.
Maybe some of his talent would rub off on me.
I didn’t play like that.
I wasn’t raw.
I was practiced.
To be out of control the way he was? To let the music decide what it was going to do and when — I didn’t have that. I was lacking in the passion department.
My professors all said my music was perfect — but cold.
If I was cold — he was on fire.
Two hours. I had two hours to practice before I had to meet up with my class partner and go over plans for our project.
I set my notes and music on the piano and focused on the keys. My fingers tingled as I touched the ivory — they tingled when I thought of his hands.
For once in my life I wanted to know what it felt like to be free.
But something told me — the guy who had just left this room was anything but — he was trapped, and by the conviction in the song he sang — it was all his own doing.




Chapter Nine
Music is life — maybe that’s why I’d abandoned it for so long. I didn’t feel like I deserved life — not anymore. —Gabe H.
Gabe
I leaned against the wall as the music from the practice room filtered faintly into the hallway.