“Yeah, it’s not going to be ideal,” repeating Charlie’s words, “but it’s going to be better than staying the night outside in this heat.”
We arrive at Charlie’s studio around eight thirty in the evening. I ride my bike over the curb and onto the sidewalk, next to the entrance. Harper takes her helmet off and I get assaulted by her fragrant hair again and almost lose my balance.
“Where are you going to lock up your bike?”
“I’m not.” I smile.
“Aren’t you afraid it’ll get stolen?”
“Nah, because I’m taking it inside.”
“Can you do that?” She asked.
“Yeah, I’ve done it a million times, all the floors are concrete where we’re going and I always promise Henry, the owner, to keep a mat beneath it to catch any oil.” I point to the second story window above the door. “That’s his apartment right there.”
“Will he be cool about all this?” She asks, skepticism leaking from her tone.
“Yeah, I think so. Henry knows my situation. He never lets me stay more than one night, though. I suppose he’s afraid I’ll move in and that’s against some sort of tenant code city thing. He’s not licensed for that and a real stickler for the rules. The city has it out for the rockers, I guess.” I winked, like a dumbass. I immediately regretted the cheese move.
I pressed the buzzer in awe of my total loss of cool. This girl seeped the ‘smooth’ outta’ me.
“Henry,” Henry announced in a static voice.
“Henry, it’s Callum. Did Charlie call you?”
We hear another buzz for the door and I opened it. I clicked the buzzer again and hear the other end connect but Henry says nothing.
“Thanks, Henry.”
“No problem, Callum. See you in the morning, dude.”
“And that was Henry.”
“How old is he?” Harper asked.
“I don’t know, like thirty?”
“Cool.”
“Alright, hold the door for me?” I ask.
She whips inside the covered alcove and holds the door as wide as it will go. I give my bike two hard shoves and it lurches over the step to the alcove and into the building foyer. I lead Harper to Charlie’s studio in the very back.
“It’s the last door on the right.”
She jumped ahead of my bike and opened the door for me as I wheeled in the bike. Charlie’s studio space is large and it should be, because it costs him a small fortune but apparently it paid for itself when he recorded for random bands when he wasn’t on the road.
Harper let out a low whistle.
“Incredible,” she said, turning around.
I set my bike up in an open corner of his instrument room and opened one of the only closet doors near the entrance. I pulled out a large rubber pad that Charlie kept inside for my motorcycle and tossed it underneath the motor.
I turned around and caught her watching me. It reminded me that I was alone, with an unbelievably beautiful girl, and that no one was around. I tucked my hands in my back pockets to keep from seizing this stranger and kissing her until she gasped for air.
“So,” I said, rocking back on my heels. I grabbed my bag. “Listen, I’ve done this a couple of times. It gets old fast but the one thing I’ve learned is to take advantage of anything you can while you can because you may not have the opportunity to do it for awhile which means I recommend we shower, then take any dirty clothes we have to the laundromat close by.”
“This isn’t your first rodeo then?”
“Not by a long shot. I’ll go first, ensuring you’ll have privacy later.”
I grabbed my towel, something noticeably missing from her “luggage”, also something I plan on addressing later, and head for the shower with my soap and shampoo in hand.
The “shower” was a drain in the floor, a poorly pressured spout, and a thin plastic shower curtain in the corner of what at one time must have been a pre-war locker room. The water was lukewarm at best but better than I’d had for the past two days, which was sponge baths in subway restrooms. Even though the water temperature was crummy, I had never been in such a good mood and was positive it was from meeting Harper. There’s nothing more thrilling than meeting someone new for the first time, especially if that someone new was freaking gorgeous as hell.
I stepped from the shower feeling better than I had in a very long time and toweled off. Shit, I thought as I looked down at myself, I forgot my clothes. I wrapped my towel around my lower half and trudged along the hall back to Charlie’s studio, already turning beet red at what I was about to do.
As I near the studio though, I can hear loud music trembling through the air and one miss Harper Bailey singing at the top of her lungs. I edged toward the slightly ajar door and quietly pushed it open, hoping to grab my bag next to the wall nearest me and holding my breath that she’d be too distracted to notice me but when I catch a glimpse of her, I become engrossed.
Forgetting my towel and my bag, I leaned against the door jamb just watching her dancing around, singing Aerosmith’s ‘Dream On’. I couldn’t believe how remarkably entertaining it was to see her shuffling over the floor like she was, her hair falling over her shoulders and in her face. I can tell it was probably the most free she had felt in quite awhile making her face flushed and excited and her body swaying to each beat. I wondered if the words meant anything in particular to her and suddenly didn’t know if I was intruding. If this was some sort of therapeutic ritual for her, I’d feel like an ass if she knew I was watching. I leaned forward and grabbed my bag just as she turned and saw me standing there.