I woke up and laid in bed for awhile on Saturday morning as I recounted the night before. The sunlight spilled through the opening of my curtains and lightened up a strip of my hardwood floor in front of my bed. Even though my mind still raced with other questions, I couldn't help but think about something Nathan said last night. It's sexy when you're confident.
I knew he had a flirtatious personality, and the likelihood of him having said things like that to who knows how many girls before was high. Yet it still lingered in the back of my mind instead of ignored. And eventually I got out of bed and pulled a sweatshirt on before exiting my room to head downstairs. The house was eerily silent, and I briefly wondered if I was the first one awake.
Of course, Luke wasn't up yet, considering it wasn't past noon yet. My mom, however, was an early riser, so she was likely to be up. I went to the kitchen and then the living room, but nobody was to be seen. I checked my mom's office and didn't see her there, either. In the middle of looking for her, my mom walked into the front door and then the kitchen as grocery bags filled her arms.
When she saw me, she smiled widely. "Good afternoon, honey. Will you help me unload the car please?"
I nod and walk out with her. "Afternoon? What time is it?"
My mom raises her eyebrows at me. "Almost twelve. Don't tell me you just woke up?" When the look on my face gives me away, she whistles jokingly. "Lauren, were you partying or something last night? It's very unlike you to sleep in."
I filled my arms with grocery bags from the trunk and think about her words while biting my tongue from telling her how wrong she was. I was the opposite of partying last night. I was babysitting my wasted little brother and make sure he didn't get in a fight with Beefy and Meaty, not to mention tuck him into bed at the end of the night.
"Well, at least I woke up to new food," I smile at my mom as she chuckles and grabs some bags from her trunk. "There's nothing better than that."
I head back and forth between he house and the car until the trunk is unloaded and the kitchen counter is overflowing in plastic bags. Once my job is finished, I grab the new milk and cereal, then head over to the other side of the kitchen to make myself breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever the hell this meal was to be considered.
I watch Keeping up with the Kardashians- what can I say, I had a weakness for trashy reality TV- and my mom joins me after she puts food away. We frequently indulged in the Kardashian's life, and even Luke loved Khloe. In fact, I was certain that when my mom goes away for a book signing or interview, she spends her nights in the hotel room with Dianne watching while drinking red wine.
"What are you doing today?" I ask after a minute of thinking of my plan-less day. "We can go get our nails done. Or lunch."
My mom looks at me sheepishly. "I have plans with Dianne."
At the rejection, I muttered, "Why do you have a fuller social calendar than I do?"
"Do you want to come with us, honey?" She asks with a nudge of her shoulder. It was so lame that I just received her pity invite.
"No," I supplement immediately. "That's okay. I'll find something to do; go and have fun with Dianne, but don't get too drunk."
My mom swatted at me with a playfully mad expression. "Oh, shush, Lauren."
I smirked and continued watching with her for another hour before she got up to get ready for her night in the city. I, on the other hand, had zero plans. I sat on the couch and contemplated my next move: lay in bed and watch Netflix or go out. For some reason, the idea of going out appealed more- really, I always choose to lay in bed and binge on Netflix, so the change was weird- so I went to my room to change, too.
When I opened my closet, I saw nothing but expensive jeans and tight shirts, and absolutely none of it looked appealing. As I scavenged the back of my closet for the my old clothes that hid in boxes, I told myself that it would be fine if I didn't completely dress up today. I mean, what were the chances I'd see anyone, anyway? I pulled out my favorite Rolling Stones tee, the one that was faded from the amount of times I've worn it, and paired it with ripped dark washed jeans and my beloved white high top Converse.
After I changed, I headed outside with with my purse and keys. It was forty five degrees and sunny out, a nice surprise for the Philadelphia winter season, so I skipped driving and opted for the bus. I eventually got off of in the middle of the city, by my favorite coffee shop in Rittenhouse Square. I was enthralled by one shop in particular, with a faded vintage sign hanging above the front door that read Vintage Records.
The familiar scent of incense burning in the store hit me as I took my first step into the building. I made my way toward the sticker-covered staircase in the corner of the room and climbed the steps until I reached the top floor. There was nobody around when I got up there, and the windows were wide open to make the air less stuffy.
As I shuffled through records, my fingertips grazed a recognizably-stamped record, and I pulled it out with a small smile to examine it.
"You're into the Rolling Stones, huh?" A voice surprised me a few feet away.
I look up in surprise to see a guy around my age with blonde hair and electric blue eyes with his eyes on me. I hadn't thought there was anyone up here, but I glanced past the guy to see a door open with a sign reading STAFF ONLY. My eyes fall on the name tag on his chest with 'Aaron' unscripted on the tiny piece of metal.
"I wonder what tipped you off," I joke easily.
His drop to the album in my hands, and then to my matching tee shirt, before he looks back up at me with a wider smirk that threatens to change into a smile. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm actually just really good at guessing someone's music taste."
I allow myself to laugh, and when I do he allows himself to smile. "I'm afraid you're wrong. I actually hate the stones. I'm more of a Justin Bieber girl."
Aaron nods with a teasingly solemn expression on his face. "That's a shame. Here I thought there was such thing as a pretty girl who also has an impressive music taste, but I guess it's just an impossible match."
My cheeks warm involuntarily at the compliment, but nonetheless, I continue my game. "I guess it is. I'm sorry to disappoint."
"You didn't, don't worry," His smile is now a full-on grin. "I'm Reese."
My eyes glance down at his name tag again before meeting his gaze in confusion. "Not Aaron?"
Reese- or Aaron, I'm not sure yet- looks down at his name tag and then back up at me sheepishly. "I replaced Aaron," he clarifies. "My boss hasn't gotten me a new name tag yet. I think he forgot, too, because he's been calling me Aaron recently."
I laugh at his words but, before I can answer, someone shuffles behind the STAFF ONLY door. "Aaron!" An authoritative voice calls, and we both tun to see a burly man sticking out the doorway to look at Reese expectantly. "Get back here and help Nathan with these boxes, will ya?"
Reese cringes when he says 'Aaron', but nods quickly. "Okay, I'm coming."
The burly man disappears in a back room but as Reese turns back to me, I think about how he had said Nathan. I mean, there had to be plenty of Nathan's in the city, right? I told myself not to think too much of it, and instead of firing off questions like normal, I uncharacteristically held back. I set down the Rolling Stones album as I thought about Angelo's next door, but Reese's voice stops me before I move.
"You never told me your name," Reese says quickly, his eyes interlocking with mine. "But I told you both of mine."
I smirked a little and hold my hand out. "I'm Lauren."
He grins as he takes hold of my hand and shakes it with the smile still on his lips. "Lauren, it's been a pleasure. Would you do me the honor of giving me your number, so we can talk again?"
Then it hits me: this extremely hot guy that I just met is asking me for my number. I couldn't help my smile from spreading, but I managed to hand him my phone and say, "Alright, Aaron Reese."
Reese chuckles as he takes my phone and punches some numbers in before he hands it back. "I texted myself so I have your number too."
"Thanks,"I say for a lack of anything better to say, and also because I'm incurably awkward sometimes.
He chuckles and takes a step back toward the door. "The pleasure was all mine. Maybe we could get together tonight, if you're free."
I was taken aback by his forwardness before answering eagerly, "I'm free tonight." In an attempt to seem less eager, I question suspiciously, "But how do I know you're not a serial killer?"
Reese grins wickedly. "You already gave me your number. Technically, I could find and kill you based off of that information." When my eyes widen in surprise, he begins to chuckle. "I won't kill you, scouts honor. You're too pretty to kill."
Once again overcome by my awkwardness, I blush and do not say anything, but look down to examine my shoes instead.
"I would like to take you out though," I look back up at Reese and wonder how such a hot guy was asking me out. "I don't know if you're into this, but it's really fun to go down to the tracks just to watch for a little."
Alex's words rang in my head: Stay off the tracks. My interest was immediately piqued, but as I ask, "The tracks?", an annoyingly familiar voice demands, "Reese."
I look behind Reese to see Nathan standing there with his forehead beaded with sweat and his hair sticking up in various directions. I scowl at Nathan as I realize he cut off the answer I was hoping to get and that he wouldn't tell me. Nathan glares at his coworker looking extremely exhausted and tired.
"Get back here and help," Nathan snaps. "I want to get out of here on time today."
Reese turns back to me and smiles apologetically. "I'll text you later, yeah? Maybe I'll see you tonight."
I smile but it doesn't reach my eyes. "Yeah, I'll talk to you later."
When he turns around and disappears into the staff room, I let out a deep breath and drop my smile. I turn to glare at Nathan, who looks frustratingly cool in his faded jeans and- is that-
"Nice shirt," He smirks at me.
Nathan is wearing a white and extremely worn Rolling Stones shirt. The once bright logo now was faded and chipping in some spots, almost resembling my own. And I'm not going to lie- Nathan Rhodes has never looked hotter.
I frown and realize I'm being distracted by his looks when I need to be asking him questions. Like what everyone means when they talk about "the tracks".
"Nathan," I say evenly, and his face kind of falls, like he knows what to expect. "Where and what are the tracks?"
His previous playfulness ceases, and I notice it visually first. Nathan stands straighter, more alert, and crosses his arms as he looks at me. I try not to get distracted by the way his arms flex when he does that, but that was asking a lot. I stand my ground, mimicking his movements and crossing my arms over my chest.
I would get answers.
"It's nothing," Nathan sets his jaw and stares me down.
I scoff, "Bullshit."
He looks even more bothered by my imploring and he snaps, "Do you have to be so fucking nosy all the time?"
My anger increased tenfold but before I could make a remark I realized I was in a record store, and thank God there was nobody else in here because we were kind of causing a scene. I remembered Nathan's boss and Reese in the back, and didn't scream at him like I really, really wanted to do.
Suddenly, the previous zeal for being out of the house vanished like it was never even there, and I suddenly just wanted to leave the record store and go home. I glared at Nathan as his gaze searched mine, as if I were an interesting creature, but I just shake my head.
"If you're not going to tell me," I say. "I'm going to let Reese take me there."
I walk past him, back toward the sticker-stamped staircase. When I began to descend, I heard Nathan's authoritative voice behind me.
"Lauren, do not go to the tracks tonight," Was his final warning.
And it only sparked my interest more.