Chloe's Dream

by Jennifer Ann

  Everyone throws her a “bye” as she races to the front door without looking back. For a moment I consider going after her. Something’s definitely up.

  “What was that about?” Jewels asks, running her hands along Adam’s arms and frowning. “Chloe usually doesn’t ‘do’ jittery like that. Should call her?” she asks, glancing down at her phone. “Make sure she’s okay?”

  “She’ll call when she’s ready to talk about whatever’s bothering her,” I say, holding a hand out above the bar. “Hey, Stella, can I get another beer and something for the guys?”

  “Sure thing,” Stella answers, sliding over to take orders from Theo and Adam. As she’s filling a glass at the tap, she grunts and tips her head to a table near the entrance. “I see Mick’s back. I don’t know what his emergency was, but it looks like everything is more than okay now.”

  I scan the crowd before I find Mick sitting incredibly close to a stunning brunette who apparently feels no shame in showing her oversized breasts to the world, much like I did before meeting Theo. The black lace of her bra peeks out beneath the neckline of her slinky, emerald green dress. Seriously. It’s well below zero degrees outside and the girl’s dressed like it’s the middle of summer. I can’t help but wonder if she’s desperate for Mick’s attention as she touches his chest with one hand, laughing brightly with her head tipped back. Mick smiles from ear to ear, his eyes filled with light, obviously pleased to see Big Tits humored by whatever he said.

  “Shit,” I mutter under my breath, nudging Jewels. “I think I know why Chloe was so upset. Check it out.”

  Jewels narrows her eyes on Mick and the woman. “Shit,” she parrots, pursing her lips.

  {Chloe Cirillo}

  Chapter 1

  Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely adore my new friends Kelly and Jewels. It’s just that sometimes I feel like one of those neon-haired troll dolls in a world filled with Barbies. They’re both freaking knockouts with these crazy long legs and gorgeous hair that they always know how to style like they’ve just stepped from the salon. And now that I’m forced to watch them try on fluffy wedding dresses that make them look like something out of a fairy tale, it just reminds me that I’m far from perfect in addition to being far from finding my own Prince Charming.

  Until I met the two Wisconsin transplants, I only ever hung out with guys. Guys from my band, guys from the tattoo shop, guys in high school I’d meet up with on weekends for jam sessions. Most of the girls I’ve known in my lifetime are filled with too much drama, too caught up in how they look and every single thought that passes through a guy’s mind. Yet there’s something about these two that stuck under my skin the same way a person hears a tune on the radio and can’t shake it for days. They’re a hoot to be around unless they’re fawning over their perfect men, then it can get downright nauseating, although it’s still quite adorable the way the four of them seem perfectly matched.

  Most of my guy friends are able to look past the fact that I’m a girl and just hang without trying to hit on me or make things weird, unlike the kind of guys who follow the band religiously, or come into the shop to have work done and feel the need to hit on me. I love guys in general of all shapes and sizes, just never really had the time to balance a relationship between finishing my tattoo apprenticeship and keeping up with the band.

  It’s my lifelong—or at least since junior high—dream to become recognized for my talent, and sign a deal with a record label. There’s no room for love when you’re hoping to become a household name. I’ve seen how hard it is for a marriage to survive the rock and roll lifestyle. Hell, even Chris Martin couldn’t make a go of it even though he was married to someone famous.

  But.

  Once upon a time, our band played at Flanagan’s where Kelly bar-tends, and I remember seeing Mick Flanagan, the bar owner’s brother, serenade his girlfriend. He was cuter than hell and incredibly brave to sing in front of people with a voice that really shouldn’t be used outside of the shower. I couldn’t get over his dazzling smile and the gold sparks to his hazel eyes. The way the uppity bitch ran out of there, I really felt for the guy. It takes someone with an awfully big heart to put himself out there like that, and then to have it stomped out with obvious rejection? Despicable.

  Fast forward to a year or so later when Kelly re-introduced me to him. There were definitely fireworks of an epic level when we got to talking about concerts we’ve been to and our love of guitars. I’m the kind of girl who’s all about a guy’s arm and didn’t see just how sculpted his tattooed biceps were until we reconnected that day. I could hardly swallow as I watched him speak with his hands, waving those beautiful pieces of eye candy before my eyes.

  About a week later he added me as a friend on Facebook and even posted a couple of music-related memes on my wall. I responded with something playful each time, starting a short string of interactive comments that I thought were a step closer to something happening. Beyond that, however, there was silence.

  Then on New Year’s, when he leaned in to give me a sweet, unobtrusive kiss at midnight? Forget about it. Scrumptious lips like those are only given to angels and supermodels. It took me a full day to recover from that kiss, I shit you not. I wasn’t able to speak a full sentence for hours. It’s like he put some kind of a spell on me. I hadn’t seen him since, although I definitely wanted to.

  Then I saw him in the bar today with the busty brunette and lost all hope. Why is it whenever I actually become interested in a guy, which literally feels like once in a blue moon, they have to be unavailable? Maybe this is the universe’s way of trying to tell me to stick with my plan and focus on my music career.

  “Yo, Chloe. You ready to do this, or what?” Beckett asks, pulling me from my trance. He plugs his guitar into the amplifier and stares at me with his light eyebrows raised.

  Five years ago, I thanked my lucky stars when I found Beckett Bergen strumming a guitar around the block from where I was living at the time. He’s the real looker of the band—strawberry blond hair thick enough to really sink your fingers into, steely blue eyes that can make you forget your own name, just the right amount of ink running up his arms and side (some of it done by yours truly), scruffy facial hair to add a little character, and a gravely voice that perfectly compliments mine.

  He’s exactly the type I’d go for if I didn’t see him as a really good friend that I don’t want to lose. More than that, I’m worried we’ll complicate things to the point that the band breaks up. We had blissful, wild sex a few times back in the old days before I decided that, however, and it was pretty freaking terrific. We’ve hooked up again on a drunken night here and there over the years against my better judgment, although we made it clear there weren’t any strings attached. Anything serious wouldn’t work out between us anyway. He wasn’t exactly the ideal “boyfriend” in the time we were sleeping together. He’s never dealt well with the whole concept of monogamy.

  Beckett’s a total player, not even close to the boyfriend or even long-term commitment type, and he’s got serious jealousy issues. He sees himself as a rock god and prefers trysts with adoring fans. I mean he’s good, but come on. The way girls climb over each other for a chance to touch his hand? I really don’t want to compete with that. He’s always autographing their boobs like he’s Trent Reznor or something.

  Landon watches on with sticks in hand, bare-chested, ready to roll. The kid’s decent enough looking if you like the type who are lanky with baby-faces and respectable abs, but he can’t sing worth a lick and he doesn’t have the charm or confidence Beckett carries. After seeing him play in a former friend’s band, I invited him to join us. He remains to be the best drummer I’ve seen who could, quite honestly, one day keep up with the legendary Dave Grohl the way he keeps improving. I’ve always thought of Landon as our secret weapon since no one would ever guess someone who looks like he’s still in high school would be filled with so much wicked talent.

  Beaming, I situate Blue Beauty over my shoulders and plug her
in. “Yeah, let’s rock this shit.” The hum I’m met with shoots a thrill through me, all the way down to my toes. Music does something primal, awakening my spirit and taking me to another dimension. Unlike most the musicians I know, I’m not into drugs and have never played high because I don’t want anything to mess with the natural high that comes with performing.

  “How about we start with the new Bush cover we’ve been working on?” I suggest. “I think it’ll draw a lot of the kids from the university if we can fine tune more of these 90s grunge songs. Beck, you need to tighten the riff on the chorus, and Land, you need to add a set of symbols the second bar in. Okay, here we go. Play it like you stole it, boys. On my count...one, two...”

  We fill the old warehouse—at our disposal courtesy of Landon’s wealthy father—with our brash music, rattling the ancient windows with each note. With each strum of my fingers and vibration of the chords, I feel the familiar release ripple through me unlike anything else, rattling against my core and making me feel like I’m the queen of the freaking world. I grab the microphone, making it my bitch, and start in on the lyrics, well aware that I’ll never nail the insanely sexy voice of Gavin Rossdale, though I’m able to make it my own with a unique twist.

  Who needs sex when you can discover untouchable bliss with a guitar and the sweet release of one’s voice?

  This girl, that’s who.

  As we transition into one cover song after another, I try not to dwell on the fact that it’s been so long since I was with a guy that I’m sure my hymen has repaired itself. Not to be crude or anything, but it’s the gospel truth. Such a thing normally wouldn’t bother me quite so much, but I can’t stop thinking about Mick and those mystical lips of his. Or the model-type he was cozied up to at Flanagan’s.

  Did Mick just add me on Facebook as a courtesy? What if he was never interested in me that way, and I’m reading too much into his kiss? It was either me or one of Kelly’s sisters available that night. Maybe he was too intimidated by the raven-haired beauties and saw me as a safe choice.

  “Chlo-e!” Beckett snaps angrily.

  “Hmmm?” I say, turning to him.

  He stands with his guitar hanging from his shoulder, arms crossed, and a deep frown. It’s very similar to the dissatisfied look he gave me when I told him I couldn’t sleep with him anymore because I respect our relationship too much.

  “Where were you just now? You completely dropped the beat. You’ve been way too distracted lately. Something you’d like to share with the rest of us?”

  I wave my hands through the air. “I’m sorry. No, I’m good. I don’t know where my head was, honest. If you guys don’t mind, though, can we call it good a little early?” Without waiting for their blessing, I set Blue Beauty back on her stand. “I should really call it a night. I promised Jewels that I’d go with her again in the morning to shop for bridesmaids dresses. Since it’s just me and Kelly in the wedding, I have to go along even though I’m worried she’s going to stick me in something foo-foo. I never would’ve guessed she’d be the type until she started trying on wedding dresses that look like something you’d wear to the ball. She’s such a pretty girl, I’d just like to see her wear something simple.”

  “See you guys tomorrow night,” Landon calls out, shoving his sticks into his back pocket and skipping out like he can’t get away fast enough. He’s not the most sociable guy and most everything about of his life outside the band remains a mystery. All I know is that he lives with an older brother and delivers laundered linens by day. I guess he’s the kind that likes to keep his business to himself. Everyone has their own little quirks.

  Beckett sets his guitar down, eyeing me suspiciously. By the way his nose starts to scrunch, I can tell he’s teetering on the edge of annoyance. “Whatever’s going on with you, get it straightened out. We can’t go to these gigs sounding unprepared.”

  I position my messenger bag across my body and grab my car keys, flashing him a reassuring smile over my shoulder. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Give me some time, and I’ll bounce back like always.” I turn away from Beckett before he reads any further into the distance I’ve placed between us.

  The next day involves more of the same torturous affair in which my two hot-ass friends try on fluffy dresses. This time, however, they attempt to stuff me into flowing bridesmaids dresses that make my legs look even shorter than normal. To give her a bit of the credit she probably deserves, Jewels lets me choose my own style apart from Kelly’s on the condition that we wear the same soft pink color she chose. I can do pink, and I even find a shorter dress that wouldn’t kill me to wear for the entire day of the wedding.

  This time Kelly’s older sister Glori, in town for a few days, joins us because—get this—she has an upcoming photo shoot with some big shot designer. Of course she does. Because what else would you expect from someone that goddamn gorgeous? Although she’s a bit uptight and not as fun as Kelly, she’s got these long, skinny limbs and she’s mystically graceful. She even moves in grand gestures like some kind of beauty queen. I swear I’m like that little E.T. character, surrounded by fucking goddesses.

  “Oh, Kel!” Glori exclaims, clapping her perfectly groomed hands together. “You look absolutely stunning. Theo isn’t going to know what to do with you!”

  “He’ll know exactly what to do with me,” Kelly mumbles outside of her sister’s range of hearing. I giggle as she watches herself twirling in the mirror, the long, draping dress fluttering around her ankles. If the dress was white instead of the soft pink, she’d look like the bride rather than Jewels’s maid of honor.

  “And you...Chloe,” Glori adds with far less enthusiasm, “I think that style fits you…really well. It brings out the color of your eyes.” Although she claimed to really like our band last time she was in town, I think Kelly’s pristine sister is still a bit unsure how to deal with me. I guess I’m so far out of the box from what she considers normal that she doesn’t know how to deal.

  I frown at my pasty, short legs beneath the knee-length number with a mullet in the back. The sweetheart neckline allow for the girls to properly breathe and it fits perfectly around my narrow waist I’ve worked so hard to maintain. I just wonder how my friends’ midwestern families will react when they see all of my exposed tattoos in their glory. Something tells me their mothers won’t see me as a wholesome girl once they catch sight of the catrina decorating my forearm. “Maybe I should wear get something with sleeves to cover up my...sleeves.”

  “You’re not wearing sleeves in July,” Jewels huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’d never ask you to hide your tattoos. It’s who you are.” She sets her arm across my shoulders and grins widely at me in the mirror. “You look killer in this style, girl. Mick is going to come undone when he sees your full-on feminine side.”

  With the mention of Mick’s name, I flush. The anticipation of him seeing me all dolled up like this sends a swarm of butterflies spiraling through my gut. Then I frown up at Jewels. “Wait, I thought these dresses were for your wedding back in Wisconsin. Am I wearing the same thing to Kel’s wedding in the city?”

  Jewels glances at Kelly before flashing me the kind of overdone, toothy smile she hopes will make up for her confession. “These are for mine. Mick’s invited to both of our weddings.”

  Kelly gives me a similar smile, one smothered in guilt that comes off as all teeth. “Surprise.”

  Well this is just great news. Maybe he’ll bring his date so I can gaze out at him and her giant tits during the ceremony. My skin begins to itch with the thought of me looking out of place in a dress this fancy with Mick and that woman watching on. I’d rather run naked through Times Square.

  “I need outta this dress.” I reach for the zipper in the back, but my short arms can’t grab onto anything. I’m like a T-Rex in tulle, ready to rip it to shreds. “Could someone please get me outta this thing?”

  Jewels rushes to my side, pulling on the zipper while I hold the dress tight against my chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t sa
y anything to you first. We were all sitting at the bar one night talking about the wedding and Mick mentioned he’d never been anywhere in the US other than New York. Adam and I invited him, thinking it’d be a good chance for you guys to spend more time together. I thought you’d be excited that he was coming. I never guessed...”

  Kelly steps in at my other side. “I know what you’re thinking, Chloe. But Mick has a really big family. It could’ve been a sister-in-law or a cousin. I’ll ask him about her next time we’re alone at work. Don’t read into it until we know the whole story. Besides, he may not even be able to take time off to come to the wedding. I think part of the reason he hasn’t contacted you is because he’s been insanely busy with classes and his family.”

  I resist rolling my eyes to the ceiling. If that top-heavy woman was one of Mick’s relatives, I’m Kelly and Glori’s rejected sister who was dropped at the orphanage. No one dresses that seductively to hang out with their cousin or sister-in-law unless, I suppose, they’re from the Deep South.

  “If it would make you feel any better, I don’t have a date for the wedding either,” Glori tells me with a shrug, as if she couldn’t convince any guy she meets in the meantime to go along with her.

  I move toward the dressing rooms with a small smile. “Look, it’s not a big deal. I know you guys are only trying to hook us up, and I think it’s sweet. It really is. I just don’t believe in forced relationships, you know? He’s had all this time to make a move. Maybe like Kel said, he’s just too busy. Tending the bar and going to college, I’m sure it takes a lot outta him. Believe me, it’s not like I’m not going to cry over this. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen on its own. It’s fine that he’s coming to Wisconsin, J, really. I’m sure we’ll all have a grand time, and there won’t be any weirdness whatsoever.”

  I slip into the changing room before they can interject. Leaning against the door, I fight off a sudden wave of nausea. Never before did I think I’d find myself freaking out over some guy because I didn’t think he liked me. What is this, the fifth fucking grade?