Wanting Reed (Break Me) BOOK 2 by Antoinette Candela Page A

counter, quirking an eyebrow.
    “Nope.” She takes off the cap and grabs my arm, resting it on her lap to steady it. She taps the marker on her chin contemplating, staring up into the clear blue sky before she puts the marker on my cast and starts writing. When she’s done, she pops the cap back on and smiles. “There,” she finishes as she lets go of my arm.
    The pain passes, but the beauty remains. -Piper
    “Very poetic,” I laugh as I check out her autograph.
    “I always try to find the good in the bad,” she says, nodding her head at the schedule I’ve rolled up in my hands. “Registered for classes?”
    “Not yet,” I reply, tapping the pamphlet on my knee.
    “You’re one of those, aren’t you?” She glances at me from the corner of her eye.
    “One of what?” I look over, wondering what the hell she’s thinking.
    “Procrastinator.” She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. Her bracelets jingle and slide down her thin arm. “You wait until the last minute to do shit and hope the stars will align and everything will work out for you.”
    I swallow hard. What the fuck? Is she some kind of psychic? She just basically explained my life in two sentences, and she doesn’t fucking know me from Adam.
    “Do you always go around making fucking random assumptions about people?” I lean back and throw my arm across the bench as she shifts sideways to look at me.
    “Are you saying I’m wrong?” She laughs softly. Even her laugh has a slight musical quality to it. I wonder if she sings.
    “Yeah.” I smirk, scratching the back of my neck.
    “Yeah, okay.” She rolls her eyes as she digs through her backpack and pulls out a notebook. Shit. This chick is ballsy and not afraid to speak her mind. “So, are you a senior?” she asks.
    “No, first-year grad student, and you?” I counter as I watch her flip through the pages of her beat-up notebook.
    “Senior.” She pauses and looks at me. “What’s a guy like you taking in grad school?”
    “Sports medicine,” I reply matter-of-factly.
    “I should have known,” she affirms as her eyes travel to my biceps.
    I grin, flicking my chin in her direction. “Let me guess, music major?”
    “How’d you know?” she asks, tilting her head to the side in amusement.
    “Your voice.”
    “Shit, I get that a lot,” she answers, crossing her toned legs in front of her.
    “Well, now you know how it feels.” I grin, thinking the conversation with her is so easy and relaxed. I haven’t talked to someone like this in a while, and it feels good.
    “Touché.”
    I open my mouth to say something, but her phone cuts me off. She digs it out of her backpack and frowns as she checks the number. “I’ve really got to take this phone call,” she says while grabbing her backpack and getting up from the bench. “It was nice meeting you, Reed. I’ll see you around.” She throws the backpack over her shoulder and walks away.
    “Same here.” I smile as she answers the phone and proceeds to call someone “babe” on the other line.
    No matter what anyone says, I’m not a procrastinator. Not intentionally. Who am I kidding? I’ve always been this way. I’m not going to change, but I can’t keep putting this off. I rise from the bench and head over to the main building to register for classes.
    Because I was early, I didn’t have to wait too long and I got the classes I wanted. I decided on going all out and taking the hard shit up front to get it over with. After thanking my advisor, I head out the door and notice the waiting area is filled with students. I tug my hat over my eyes and run into my little songbird from an hour ago in the hallway. She’s walking arm in arm with some tall blonde guy. He’s got tattoos covering his right arm and a guitar slung over his right shoulder.
    “Hey,” she says with that same harmonious voice. “Fancy meeting you here.”
    “Yep, I got my stuff done early.” I smirk.
    “I see that.” She peeks in and grimaces