I wish an amazing rock band would come along and save my peers from all the bullshit they’re filling their ears with.
Every generation before me was lucky enough to get more than one.
God knows it’s time for us.
The fact Phoenix knows what good music is only makes him that much more irresistible.
I can feel him studying me as he backs out of the driveway.
“You like this song?” he questions, or at least I think he does because the volume is turned up so loud.
“Rock music is my favorite,” I shout over the music. “And Disturbed is awesome. Although, technically speaking, they lean more toward the heavy metal spectrum of rock.”
Regardless, they’re a timeless classic. Practically a prerequisite for those claiming to be a true fan of rock music.
I watch the tendons in his hand and wrist flex as he clutches the steering wheel and speeds out of my neighborhood, breaking a handful of traffic laws.
When the song ends, Phoenix presses the pause button on the stereo. “What time is your curfew?”
“What makes you think I have a curfew?”
And how the hell does he know?
His lips curve into a smirk. “You seem like the type.”
I want to ask what that’s supposed to mean, but then he tosses me his phone, which is feeding music through the stereo.
“Come on, Groupie. Play me something good.”
The insulting name has me narrowing my eyes. “Fuck you. I’m not a groupie.”
I’m a fan. Big freaking difference.
Annoyed, I scroll through the playlist on his phone. We have similar tastes. He even listens to a few of the same bands that aren’t super well known. He gets props for that.
However, I’m still irritated by his groupie remark, so I choose a song to reflect that.
I give him a smirk of my own as “I Hate Everything About You,” by Three Days Grace comes through the speakers.
His lips twitch before curling into a sexy smile that makes my heart stop.
I’m thankful we spend the rest of the ride listening to music.
I’m confused when he pulls to a stop on the street in front of a small house. “Where are we?”
I figured he was going to take me to his place so we could study.
“Relax,” he says as he gets out of the car. “It’s not a crack house.”
I don’t know how to take that remark. Is he assuring me…or making fun of me?
I seriously hope it’s not the latter because I’m not like that at all.
I climb out after him. “Excuse me for wanting to know where a guy I’ve barely even spoken to is taking m—”
I stop talking when he advances on me…slowly backing me up until my spine meets the window of his car.
“What’s the matter?” A menacing glint darkens his eyes as he sweeps his gaze up and down my body in a way that makes me feel naked and exposed. “Scared I’m gonna have my wicked way with you? Do all the dirty little things you think about when you’re alone in your bed at night…touching yourself?”
God, I wish.
A buzz goes through me when he leans in, his lips ghosting over my ear. “Or is that what you’re hoping will happen tonight?”
My mouth goes dry. I try to form words, but none come out.
“You can feign innocence all you want, but I know you like to stalk me, Groupie.” He edges away. “But I’m gonna need you to keep your little crush in check so I can graduate. Think you can manage that? Or do I need to ask Mrs. Herman to find someone else?”
It feels like he just poured a tub of ice water over my head.
“I don’t…” I fight the wave of embarrassment coursing through me. “You know what? Screw you. I didn’t ask to tutor you. Therefore, I don’t need to spend my free time doing it.”
I’m about to walk away and pull up the Uber app so I can get home, but his hand wraps around my wrist.
“Look at me, Lennon.”
The commanding tone combined with his touch makes me fold.
The second our eyes lock, he says, “I just want to make sure we each know where the other stands, so shit doesn’t get complicated.”
“Why would shit get complicated?”
The only way it could is if Phoenix returned my little crush as he called it. And we both know that will never happen.
I’ve accepted it.
But for some odd reason, it seems like he hasn’t gotten the memo.
“It won’t.” He shifts his weight onto one leg, and once again, I’m aware of just how tall he is. Easily over six feet. “Not on my end anyway.”