Watching for Comets

Monday

Shortly after four o'clock the next day, I was walking across the green back to my dorm room when the trill of a violin permeated the air. I followed it and the gathering crowd to a spot on the lawn outside my dorm. I found a gap in the crowd large enough for my skinny ass and slipped through. Jason's eyes lit up when he spotted me. He winked at me without breaking his performance. I hoped that no one noticed the gesture or that I was blushing because of it. The violin was hooked up to an amp, which was spreading the sound across campus. The empty case was splayed out in front of his feet, a few scattered coins and dollar bills within.

The cadence carried me away. This time, without the obligation to tend bar, I could focus on the music and his talent. A few people came in and out of the crowd, but most stayed put. When Jason drew the bow across the strings in an elongated finish that turned into a bow, the audience cheered and called for an encore.

He grinned. "Aww, thanks, everyone, but I've got a hot date," he announced. I bristled in embarrassment, hoping nobody noticed. With a few groans of disappointment, the crowd dispersed. I waited until they had all turned away before stepping forward. Jason smiled at my approach, gathering the tips from his instrument case and stuffing them into his pocket.

"I thought we were meeting downtown," I said.

"You wanted to hear my violin," he replied. The smile faltered as he studied my expression. "Was this a bad idea?"

I shrugged my shoulders a little. "It's a little embarrassing."

"Okay. I'm sorry. I won't do it again." He laid the violin down into its case with the gentleness and care deserving of a newborn baby, then slung it over his shoulder as he stood up.

"I appreciate the thought," I corrected, reaching for his arm. The smile reestablishing itself, he stepped over to let me take it. Behind him, the purple-haired drummer was packing up the amp. She saluted to the both of us before carrying off the equipment, so maybe she too had forgiven me for assuming Jason was a druggie, although her face remained impassive.

Jason moved in a little closer, peeling my gaze back over to him. His breath coasted across my lips. "Are you ready for our date?"

A pleasant tingle made its way up my spine. "Let me drop my stuff at my room."

#

After dinner, one kiss led to another, and we found ourselves in the back of his bus once more. I was determined to take up where we left off.

I traced my fingers along his shirt collar. "May I... see your tattoos?"

A sideways smirk crept onto his face. "You want to take my shirt off?" he teased. Then, before I could manage a response, he went on, "I want you too."

I blinked at his conviction. "You do?"

He nodded resolutely. "If you want to." His own hands crept up the back of my shirt, fingering my spine. I reached for the hem of his t-shirt. As I lifted the fabric up and over his shoulders, I watched his expression maintain its tempting confidence. He lifted his arms to help me pull the shirt the rest of the way off. It mussed his hair in the process, and I smoothed the quiff back into place.

With his naked chest before me, I became even more conscious of how much fitter he was than me. Traces of toned abs peeked out from beneath his flat torso. Gathering up my own courage, I laid my hands against his chest. In spite of his bravado, I felt his skin shiver beneath my fingers. In between my hands lay the cross necklace, flat against his chest. He continued to hold me as I traced the ink beneath his collarbone. The night sky from his right arm dissolved into a flock of birds in silhouette. Further down, faint scars remained from his top surgery. Self-conscious of how long I had been staring at him, I bit at my lip piercing, but I didn't want to let go.