earned more over the past three years than he’d ever dreamed possible, but he knew Johnny had residuals rolling in from three other bands he’d been a part of, so the man was set for life, no doubt. Kiefer had a long way to go, but he wasn’t complaining. Johnny had done more for him than probably anyone else in his whole life…except for maybe his first grade teacher. That woman had talked to his mom, tried to get her to take better care of her son. She couldn’t, though, so Kiefer wound up with his grandfather off and on until the old man passed away. But he wouldn’t have had that handful of good years if not for that elementary school teacher.
Then there was Heather. She was a calm in the storm of his mind.
And that realization hit home as he stood there making small talk with his bandmate. “Hey, I’m gonna head inside.”
“Later.”
Kiefer walked back in the house which suddenly seemed too bright. Even though there had been a light shining on him and Mickey outside, it was nothing compared to the lumens brightening the inside of the house. He blinked twice, trying to adjust his eyes, and then looked around. Just like at a party, there were clumps of people here and there—Riley and his girlfriend were snuggled on one of the big sofas, looking like they were in their own little world; Stone, his girlfriend, Johnny, and Sage stood next to the fireplace, and Kiefer could tell Johnny was telling a story by how animated he was and the way he was using his arms. Next to the kitchen, Katie and Heather stood, but Heather hugged her friend and then made her way toward the big hallway and Katie walked back toward the group where her man stood.
Kiefer knew Heather had called it a night and, even though it might seem a little stalkerish, he was going to track her down and talk to her. Alone. Now.
Mickey walked in the door behind him, so Kiefer turned and said, “Man, I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
“It’s not that late, man.”
“I know, but I think I’m Charaded out.”
“All right.” As Kiefer began walking away, he heard Mickey mutter their insult of choice. “Pussy.” Kiefer didn’t even turn around, instead just holding up the middle finger of his right hand as he walked farther away from his friend. He heard Mickey laugh behind him.
Goddamn. That hallway. He rounded the corner. He had no fucking clue which room would be Heather’s and the hallway was so well lit, he wouldn’t be able to see light from under the door. But then he heard music—a little Slash with Myles Kennedy at the helm—and he knew that had to be coming from Heather’s room.
He stood frozen in place before willing his feet toward her door and then paused, his fist in the air ready to rap on the wooden barrier keeping them apart.
He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, lowering his fist. He started to walk away when the thought occurred to him that he had nothing, absolutely nothing, to lose…so he turned around and knocked on her door rapidly.
There would be no backing out now.
Chapter Five
HEATHER HAD SLIPPED her shoes off and upzipped the bag holding her laptop. She turned the little computer on and, while it warmed up, she slipped off the jeans and put on the soft PJ bottoms she’d brought with her. After pulling her hair up into a low-riding ponytail, she returned to her computer and sat on the bed where she leaned against the headboard, pulling the laptop onto her thighs.
She pulled up Media Player and started playing a mix of some of her favorite songs, and then she opened up the online college interface. She’d been teaching for this particular online school for a few semesters and, overall, she enjoyed it. She missed the in-person interaction, but she was teaching undergrads and knew she was also missing a lot of freshman shenanigans—in-class hookups, blatant plagiarism (because the students could see as well as she did