His Unwilling Muse

Chapter 6: First practice

"... the project." Warren's words flow into my right ear and then out through the left one.

While we are making our way toward the front entrance he is going on and on about the group project we're working on right now. He is more than just a little excited, I, on the other hand, am already dreading the presentation. Why do they have to put us through the torture of showing our work to the rest of the class? Couldn't they just read it themselves?

The moment we exit through the glass door a soft melody floods my ears. My feet are glued to the sidewalk, while my eyes dart around for the source of the nauseating sound.

Almost on the exact same spot as two days ago—right beside the line of bikes—stands Nate. This time, however, he has his trusty violin with him. He moves the bow in a softer rhythm than I've never heard before, while the fingers of his left hand vibrate along the strings.

I don't recognize the melody, for which I'm incredibly grateful. I would be mortified to realize I know such a romantic piece like this racket.

The pit in my stomach grows even deeper when I notice the growing crowd building around him. I can't believe he manages to lure a crowd wherever he plays. Then again, Penny, Warren's girlfriend, did call him the top student of their college, so I guess I shouldn't be that surprised.

Just like always most of the observers turn out to be young women, who seem to be more focused on Nate than his playing. With his mesmerizing looks though, I can't find it in me to blame them.

"Is it just me or is this guy always surrounded by a crowd of girls?" Warren says.

His words, which come from right beside me, break the unwanted spell that Nate managed to cast over me.

"Can you blame them?" I tear my eyes off Nate and focus on the growing crowd instead.

"No." Warren shakes his head with a frown. "He really is skilled on that violin."

"I'm not talking about his playing." I roll my eyes and begin to walk forward. "Do you think any of them are listening to the sleazy melody? No, they're all too busy drooling over him."

Warren runs after my wide steps and grasps my shoulder. He forces me to a sudden stop, just shy of the edge of Nate's admirers.

"Where are you going?"

"Home, of course. Where else?" I shrug off his hold.

"Are you intentionally acting obtuse?" He reaches for me again, but I move to the side before he can. "You promised, V."

I purse my lips into a tight line, while still unable to believe Nate and his friends managed to convince me to help him with his so-called big performance. One moment I was determined to never see Nate again, and in the next I found myself giving into their annoying requests.

And now, as my classes for the day have ended, I'm supposed to go over to the music college and spend a couple of hours with Nate while he practices. I couldn't imagine a more wasteful way to spend the rest of my afternoon, even if I tried.

Unconsciously I find myself craning my neck to see in between the gathered bodies of fellow college students. The moment one of the young women moves to the side, a pair of chestnut eyes moves from the violin and focuses straight on me. Despite my brain screaming at me to look away, I find myself unable to move.

Nate draws the bow across the violin's strings a couple more times, while never moving his eyes off me. Then with one last final draw the melody ends, and he lowers the instrument.

"How did he know?" Warren asks, and I find myself wondering the same thing.

How could Nate possibly find me among the crowd of other young women crammed in between us. It doesn't seem possible.