by T Gephart
“Hey, crazy bar chick. I heard you moved in, nice.” Rocker dude looked down at my pajamas or maybe it was my breasts, I couldn’t be sure. “Wow, nerdy crazy bar chick. You just keep getting hotter.”
Ummm. Huh?
While Rusty and I had been discussing the merits of bathroom sex and cathedral ceilings, rocker dude and his lady friend had received their happy ending. And while they had been rather taken with each other around twenty minutes ago, it seemed busty brunette had now turned her attention to Rusty while the object of her affection was now looking at me. Obviously, their super hot encounter not one to stand the test of time or exclusivity.
“Hey Rusty, you look great tonight.” Busty brunette ran her fingers over his chest. “You need anything, baby? Before I go.”
Did she just . . . after she just . . . No, surely I misunderstood.
“I’m good, Rochelle.” Rusty smirked without missing a beat. “Maybe next time.”
God, I hoped he wasn’t serious.
“So, you need me to tuck you in?” Rocker dude ignored the busty brunette/Rusty exchange, keeping his eyes on my boobs. The lack of bra not escaping his attention.
“I’m going to go with no. I mean you seem nice and everything but I’ve got the tucking in thing down and I’d hate for someone to mess with my system.” I didn’t add there also needed to be a cold day in hell. Rudeness wouldn’t solve anything at the moment.
“Hey, Joey. Not happening.” Rusty eyed him hard. “Say goodnight to Alison and leave the spare key on the coffee table. Alison, this is my drummer, Joey and his charming date is Rochelle. She’s . . .”
“I’m a stripper,” she finished off, her smile widening proudly.
“Wow, a stripper. I never would have guessed.” That rudeness I was trying to avoid wasn’t doing a good enough job being avoided. “Okay, it’s been awesome. Need to pee. Goodnight.” I took the three steps that were needed to get into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The safety of four walls had never been such a welcomed relief, leaning against the wall in the dark.
“Bye, Alison,” Rocker dude, Joey, called through the door. “See you soon.”
Not too soon I hope, my mind churned out with my mouth going the diplomatic route of “Uh-huh, yep you too.” Whatever that meant.
The voices soon shifted away from the bathroom as I sat on the closed toilet, the need to pee fabricated. Rusty’s front door slamming was hopefully a sign that the company had left.
“Alison?” The knock at the door had me leaping off the toilet, almost hitting the tub. Rusty was right; bathroom sex would be difficult. The counter would be the only viable spot, which is why I was avoiding touching it. At least until I could get my hands on some Clorox.
“Yeah almost done.” I hit the flush as I went through with the charade. Next came the water running. No need for him to know I was actually hiding out.
“All yours.” I stood proudly in the now open doorway.
He didn’t answer. Instead he moved closer, his eyes completely unreadable. Pity my mind had decided bathroom sex wasn’t an option. That had been hasty, not at all smart.
“Joey had a spare key, he crashed here a couple of days last week but that won’t be happening anymore.”
Problem here was that even though those words weren’t even close to being sexy, they were sending tingles to parts of me that had no business tingling. I was still amazed my ill-fitting pajamas hadn’t spontaneously combusted. Damn, I really should have slept with him when I had the chance.
“I’m going back to bed.” The mouth that had been playing mute while I eye-fucked him finally got on the same page.
And while part of me wanted to wait and see if he’d stop me, the smarter part—the one hopefully running the show right now— knew that would be dangerous. As would be standing there any longer, which is why no sooner had I announced my departure that I turned my happy self around and retreated to my bedroom. Alone.
Knowing Rusty hadn’t been in that bathroom filled me with more happiness than it should have. He wasn’t dating me so was free to see other people, but because he was allowed to didn’t mean I wanted him too. It didn’t get more irrational than that.
I hated it, the thought and myself for feeling that way. That someone that wonderful would be with someone else; that they would be on the receiving end of his kindness and his amazing sense of humor. I had no right to feel anything for him other than gratitude and yet feelings, welcomed or not were seeping in. My mind was complete mush and I didn’t know whether to rejoice in the freedom or be petrified of the uncertainty. Either way, I needed new pajamas and a solid plan. One that didn’t involve me throwing myself at his feet or admitting I had feelings that made no sense. The new pajamas were definitely going to be the easier of the two.
As my eyes closed and my brain tried to will itself to sleep, I made myself a resolution—one where I stopped living in fear. That’s why I was here, so that I could be a better me, not give my heart to someone who didn’t want it. The unknown would no longer paralyze me and I was going to try new things. A world of discovery was just waiting for me. It was going to be amazing, and if nothing else it would stop me thinking about whether Rusty thought about me as anything other than a friend. Maybe my solid plan wasn’t going to be so hard after all.
But all my new adventures could wait until tomorrow. Right after I bought new pajamas.
Fuck I was tired. I’d tossed and turned the whole night wondering whether or not I should have thrown the game plan out the window and knocked on her door. Not like it would have been difficult, my door being a full four feet away.
“Crazy chick keep you up last night?” Joey twirled his stick while hitting the bass drum. “Congrats on tapping that. Those tits, pretty impressive.”
“Yeah, about that. Her name is Alison and she’s a no-go zone.”
I wasn’t in the mood to hear his shit this morning. Despite him just having blown his load in some other girl, it took two seconds to wise up and see Alison was fucking stunning. Not in the typical way either. She had something else.
Unpolluted by the world, her look was a cross between girl-next-door and classic beauty. Her hair was probably the same color Mother Nature had given her; she hadn’t caved to enhance herself with unnecessary shit. And her body was freaking amazing. A combination of soft lines and curves, she looked every bit the woman that she was. That kind of body made it hard for guys like me to keep their hands off.
And as much as I hated to admit it, Joey wasn’t lying about the tits—impressive was an understatement. Their superb perfection gave me a hard-on for the better part of the night. And those fucking Captain America pajamas she’d been wearing, I was nominating for an academy award. Not that any of that mattered, neither of us was getting anywhere near her, especially not him.
“I mean it, completely out of bounds.” I repeated in case he hadn’t heard me the first time. Or in case anyone else had any ideas.
“Easy there, Rus, I was only playing. I don’t want your leftovers.” He turned his attention back to his kit.
“Ha! Since when? Every girl he’s screwed you’ve wanted a piece of.” Max added some gasoline. Not unexpected, not much was off limits with those two.
When it came to Joey, he had trouble playing with his own toys. Whatever either of us had, he usually wanted a part of. And as conceited as it might sound, I’d never had trouble finding people to play with. If they happened to decide that when the game was up they wanted to continue with Joey, well that was none of my concern. I wasn’t the possessive type. Alison, however, wasn’t up for the taking.
“You guys gossip more than old ladies. You know we have our first gig in forever next week and it’s bad enough I look like the Michelin man, I don’t want us to sound like shit too.” Thankfully Angie chimed in, changing the topic.
“Come on, Angie, you look fantastic, babe. Besides no one is going to be looking at you, they’re going to be too distracted by the three of us.” My arm pu
lled her into an awkward side hug, that belly of hers hindering my effort.
“Yeah, yeah. So let’s stop jerking around and play.” She slapped me across the chest, the feel-good moment obviously running its course.
“Sounds perfect to me.” Anything to stop me from thinking about Alison and what she looked like last night.
We’d never been a studio band. We’d earned our chops playing night after night in shitty bars and broken down dives and we’d been holed in a room playing to a bunch of dials for too long. Which is why some asshole—me—had the bright idea that we needed to get back on a stage; give the songs airtime. Our front woman being currently more roll than rock wasn’t an issue, her assuring me that the extra cargo could take the stage without breaking a sweat, and I was itching to play. One small local gig for old time’s sake. It might have been my suggestion, but we all agreed it was needed.
Unfortunately, it was going to take a lot more than playing guitar and preparing for a show to get my new roomie out of my head. My reasons for wanting to gig nowhere near as urgent as they’d been a few weeks ago. I’d even stopped sucking down Tootsie Pops like a two-year-old. Guess the distraction was good for something. Cigarettes were the last thing on my mind.
Just like Alison, I’d been woken by the Joey appreciation club early this morning. Like an idiot, I’d completely forgotten the dickhead had keys, acquired when he guilted me with the whole Phil situation. That asshole was causing more than just a few headaches, his domestic situation cock-blocking my boys. Of course ordinarily I wouldn’t have cared about the guys using my pad to get some much needed relief, but now that shit was off the table.
If I hadn’t walked out and caught Alison with her ear pressed to the door, I might have gone full-metal jacket on Joe. His timing fucking horrible. But seeing her with messed up bed hair listening to the two dumbasses getting-it-on thawed any homicidal tendencies I had brewing. She was fucking adorable.
Halfway between curious and confused, she’d been stuck to that door like it was going to start spewing out dollar bills. The image alone gave me a hard-on from hell, the conversation that followed made me wonder why the fuck we weren’t in my bed getting horizontal.
Pity I was the only one jiving that way, with her taking off like her ass was on fire the minute we were alone. Guess the question of whether she was into it was answered.
“Hey, Rus? Can you drop D on the last bit? Needs to be dirtier.” Angie paused on her vocals as her eyes met mine, none of the words sticking in my short-term memory.
“What, babe? Sorry, was in the zone.” My lame-ass excuse a quick save for my mind going off reservation—my head not in the game.
“Drop D. On the last bit you played. I think it will sound better.” She repeated slowly, clueing me in that she didn’t buy my in-the-zone bullshit. Figures, bullshit and me weren’t usually a package deal.
“Yep. All over it. Let’s do that bit again.”
Giving myself a shake wasn’t out of the question. But being that my hands were otherwise occupied and I was already getting more than my share of attention, I settled for pushing all things Alison to the back of my mind and played the fuck out of the riff we’d be trying to nail. I’d get to all my thoughts about her later. Maybe tonight. Hopefully she’d be wearing those pajamas again.
Fuck.
This shit was not helping.
It was going to be a long ass day.
***
I’d never been that dude to think too much about the big picture. The future was going to do what it was going to do, all I needed to do was handle today and the rest would take care of itself.
The band—it was a matter of time before we were back in the spotlight. And I was all about biding my time. No longer having to work day jobs was a big fucking win, so who cared if we had to wait a few more months for the Billboard charts. It would just make it all the sweeter when we got there.
So being that I didn’t need to crystal-ball my fate, my usual demeanor was pretty damn chilled. Add in the plentiful female attention that seemed to come my way and I’d go on a limb and say my life was fairly fucking spectacular. No shit, if I wasn’t already living it—I’d want my life. But the shopping list of awesome didn’t do jack to stop the edgy-as-hell that was breathing down my neck. Knowing she was going to be waiting when I got home got me so juiced up I could barely sit straight.
Oh, I knew why. I wasn’t one of these clueless shitheads who didn’t know when their ass had been handed to them. It was just unexpected. Me and long-term didn’t usually belong in the same sentence, not unless you were talking about my guitars. So imagine my fucking bewilderment when I had zero interest in any other girl that wasn’t currently living out of my spare room.
Narrowed that shit right down, didn’t it?
My long day was going to be an equally long night.
And there she was. Wearing a pair of old jeans like she was doing them a favor with a T-shirt that was doing little to hinder my view. No make-up, no shoes and probably the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
“Rusty.” Alison looked up from her computer as I walked through the doorway. “I was about to order some takeout, you want in?”
Hells yeah I did. Pity we were reading off a different menu.
“Sounds good. I’ll buy.” My ass hit the couch as I tried to focus on something other than how beautiful she was. It was a tough ask.
“You’re not paying for dinner. You’ve done enough. I’ll buy, you choose.” She twisted her hair into a messy bun and came over to where I was sitting. “What do you feel like?”
These fucking questions were the work of the devil. I kid you not, somewhere in my living room Satan himself was sitting around giggling his scorching red ass off.
“Whatever you want is good, but you paying isn’t in the cards. So I can buy or we can both go hungry tonight.” I shot the idea of using her pennies down pretty quickly. Just like us fucking tonight, her paying for dinner wasn’t happening.
“Fine, thank you.” She gave me a shoulder bump, wisely not arguing. “How are you with hot and spicy?”
Are you shitting me right now? My pants suddenly felt tighter in the crotch.
“I’m cool with whatever.” I prayed to God she was done asking questions, especially ones that got me thinking about her naked. On second thought, that was pretty much a done deal regardless of what we talked about, her double entendres were just speeding up the process.
“Oh, there’s a new Burmese place that just opened up.” Her face lit up with excitement.
“If that’s what you want. Sounds good.” And no innuendo, always a plus.
“Awesome, I’ll order then.”
She leapt out of the chair and grabbed her phone, her other hand picking up a flyer that was sitting on my kitchen counter. The big ass grin continued as she read out our order to the person on the other end of the phone.
Well at least someone was happy. Either that or she was really fucking hungry. Whatever the reason, the worry that usually clouded her eyes wasn’t there, and I really liked this new development.
With the task of takeout all sorted, she went back to her laptop while we waited for the food to arrive. Which gave me the opportunity to go grab a quick shower. Me wanting to be clean was only half of the reason I was desperate to get under the spray. The cold water required for the other purpose.
I’d managed just enough time to clean up and grabbed an ice-cold beer from the fridge when the delivery guy started rapping at the door. The timing outstanding.
My interest in getting comfortable on the couch was higher than moving to the kitchen, so the executive decision was made to eat in the living room. A plan Alison seemed on board with as she unpacked the plastic containers of whatever it was she ordered and settled on the floor beside me. Her happy mood took a nosedive as she opened one of the lids.
“Oh. My. God. What is this?” She threw her hand around her mouth like she was going to puke. “Why does it smell like that?” Th
e container dropped on the coffee table in favor of her pinching her nose.
Her horror made me interested in the square piece of plastic that had provoked the reaction, my hand picking it up as I gave it a sniff. The smell not tickling my fancy as I tried to work out what was housed in mystery box number one. “It’s some kind of curried fish.”
“Ew. This stuff looks gross.” She unpacked mystery box number two, her look of wanting to gag no less than the first.
We didn’t bother with mystery box number three, its weird and wonderful secrets probably joining the other two in the trash.
“Don’t you know what you ordered?”
I’m sure I didn’t imagine the part where she’d suggested what we ate and then proceeded to order it. Which should have made the game of peek-a-boo unnecessary.
“No, the menu didn’t have any pictures.” She kept her hands up near her mouth, the smell not getting any better. “I took a guess. I’ve never eaten this stuff before.”
It would have been easy to laugh, her horrified face surveying the mess that was our dinner. But the last thing I wanted was for her to feel any worse. The sorry no doubt already working it’s way up her throat as she looked at me with those big sad hazel eyes. Damn, it just made her look more adorable.
“So I’m guessing I’m getting pizza.” I fished out my cell from my pocket and started dialing. My back-up plan sounded better by the second as I watched her wriggle out of her seat.
“No.” She tried to grab the phone out of my hand. “I’ll eat this. I can do it.” Her horror-filled eyes turned to the coffee table of doom as I attempt to work out who she was trying to convince.
“You’re not eating that, we’ll get pizza. It’s fine.” My fingers started dialing, wondering why the hell she was acting so weird.
“No, I’ll do this. I can eat it.” She rehashed the argument, the second time making no more sense than the first.
Whatever was going down here wasn’t about the food. An obviously bigger issue had to be the reason why she was refusing to order something else. It was like she was playing some stupid game of dare, and she couldn’t back down. She was going to force the food and the point, regardless of what her gag reflex was saying. Her doing that to herself didn’t sit right with me, and being such a caring and concerned citizen I wasn’t going to sit by and watch it happen.