Secondhand Heart

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Secondhand Heart Page 8

by Kristen Strassel


  “When my baby needs a job, I’ll be sure to have her contact you for a recommendation.” She laughed. “I care, Daisy. I want to be married.”

  “I want you to be married to someone who thinks you’re more important than teaching some stoners how to make glorified bongs.” I hugged her, she looked so sad and almost transparent. “And you know I think Roger sucks.”

  She pulled away from me, and I knew I didn’t make her feel better. “Stop it. He doesn’t suck.”

  I didn’t agree, but I did keep my mouth shut.

  “I’m just going to say hi to Dad and then head back home.” Ev stood up straight, sucking in a big breath. “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Hanging out with Cam, I guess.” In less than a week, I’d gone from awkwardly planning dates to assuming we’d be hanging out. I hushed my voice so Dad wouldn’t have post-traumatic stress syndrome from our encounter the other morning.

  “It’s all going to work out. Have fun.” Ev hugged me again before I went upstairs. “I’ll call you this week with any new wedding stuff. And if you refuse to do it, I’ll tell Mom you’re banging a married guy.”

  I hung my new dress up carefully on the outside of my closet. All the good stuff got that place of honor. Otherwise, it would get shoved in the back, fall off the hanger, and look like something I should dust with instead of wear to my sister’s wedding. I tried to picture some of the enhancements that Ev wanted to suggest to her friend, who was a fashion designer. It would make the dress more wedding appropriate, but she seemed to think I’d still be able to wear it later on with a pair of leggings and boots. Of course, that was Ev’s style and not mine, but she always did look cute, so maybe I’d give it a try.

  For way too long I laid on my bed and started at the dress, thinking about my sister. How did she go from having the brass balls needed to perform on national television to trading services with struggling artists and marrying some guy who put everything else before her? Ev deserved so much more than that. She deserved someone who thought the sun rose and set because of her. I wasn’t just saying that because she’s my sister, either. Ev was what awesome was made of. Somewhere along the way, she let someone talk her out of believing that. It pissed me off. How did I not see it happening? Was it when I was in Arizona? Or when I got sucker punched by Jordan’s death? I’d taken so much from Ev, and I never realized she needed me just as much.

  God, I was an asshole.

  The last thing I wanted her to do was to get married so she could avoid admitting to failure. I understood, having to tell people you weren’t kicking ass and chewing bubble gum was mortifying. The singing thing didn’t work out as she planned, she wasn’t making any money, and now she let douchebag Roger knock her up. Even though I harbored this fantasy that he wasn’t the father, I knew Ev too well to think that was true. She thought he was so fantastic, creative, and visionary. It was like she was putting all her eggs, literally, in his basket.

  But I’d done the same thing with Jordan. Of course, his basket was way cooler that Roger’s. But with Jordan, it was a joint effort. We both wanted the same thing. Or did we? Our lives had been so intertwined that it just felt natural to factor his future into mine. I was so lost without him, because I felt like now that he was gone, all my passion had died with him. Being with Cam lit a fire in my heart like I hadn’t felt since Jordan. It would never be the same, but damn, it felt good. But I couldn’t rely on someone else to help me shape my future. This time, I needed to do it for me, and if someone else wanted to come along for the ride, well…buckle your seatbelt, baby.

  I snuggled in under my blankets, wondering if Dad could manage to freeze the pipes in July. I didn’t want Ev to make the same mistakes I did. But the question was, could I stop her?

  The rest of the afternoon was spent snoozing and fantasizing about Ev calling her wedding off. I didn’t want anything bad to happen. I just wanted to make her come to her senses. But then it was time to get back to reality, and go hang out with my still sort of famous country singer boyfriend.

  A couple of the waitresses gave me funny looks but didn’t say anything as I bypassed the dining room and headed towards Cam’s office.

  “Take your clothes off,” were the first words he said to me when I entered.

  “What?” I knew I heard him just fine, but what the hell? He might own the place, but that was a damn ballsy request.

  He gestured up and down my body. “That stuff. Get rid of it.” He got up from his chair behind the desk and perched on the front of it. “It’s covering all the things I want to see.”

  “What about my beautiful face?” I protested, as I unzipped my jeans and let them pool at my ankles. I kicked them away, feeling so much more naked than I really was.

  “I love it.” Cam’s eyes moved from the puddle of fabric on the floor up to my face. “But this stuff,” he motioned to my shirt, “has got to go.”

  This would be so much easier if he’d just come over here and do this for me. But instead, Cam leaned against his desk, arms crossed, almost like he watched me through the window of another room. This felt like giving a stranger a peep show. Dirty, forbidden, and fucking exciting. My girl parts were already screaming at me. My shirt joined the jeans, and I walked slowly over to Cam as I unhooked my bra, which I used to wrap around his shoulders and pull his face to mine to kiss me. The move had already worked for me once. Why mess with success?

  His teeth grazed my bottom lip, sinking in and pulling it. I unbuttoned Cam’s shirt and pulled it out of his pants.

  “Why do I have to do all the work?” I pulled away from him to ask, then sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

  “Because I love watching you do it.” Cam didn’t move. “Are you going to finish what you started?”

  My face was now at his hip level. Yeah, yeah, yeah, when you’re sitting in the back of a restaurant in nothing but a pair of soaking wet panties, the time had passed for being coy. His crotch was in my face. So I did what any other red-blooded American girl would do in that situation. I undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. His cock was ready for me, even before I put it in my mouth.

  Every so often, I looked up at Cam, a beautiful angle up the long hard line of his abdomen, to see his head thrown back. He groaned in approval, his hand clutching my hair just at the nape, so I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to.

  “Hey, Cam, we wondering if…oh my God.” Someone walked in on us. I’m not sure who, because by the time I was done gagging, she was gone.

  My mouth still open, I sat there, stunned, covering my chest in case of any more intrusions.

  Cam burst out laughing.

  “You think that’s funny?” I took turns staring at him and looking back at the door, convinced the entire restaurant was going to come back to try to catch the free show.

  “I told them to knock first.” Cam wiped his brow and continued chuckling. “Maybe now they’ll listen.”

  “That girl just saw her boss getting his dick sucked! There are some things you can’t unsee, Cam!” I bent over to pick up my bra, then got up to retrieve the rest of my clothes. Cam grabbed me around the waist before I even got away from the chairs, turning me around so now I was against the desk. One of his hands slid to the waistline of my panties, moving back and forth along the elastic before tugging them down over my hips. I tried to pull them back up, but he was too fast for me. His other hand went back and forth from one breast to the other, teasing my still bare nipples. My breathing was jagged and shallow, I kept watching over his shoulder, distracted.

  Cam eased me up on the desk, picking me up like I weighed nothing. I clasped my hands around his neck so I wouldn’t fall backwards. He pushed his jeans down his legs, just enough so he could get the job done. My heart hammered against my ribcage, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

  “The door isn’t locked,” I whispered against his damp neck, the curls stuck to it moved with my lips, my voice raspy.

  “Exciting, isn’t it?” he a
sked.

  You know what? It was.

  The drive-in. The parking lot outside his condo. Here. My sweet country boy had a thing for being watched.

  I guess it wasn’t that much of a stretch, he performed for screaming crowds on stage. Singing, playing his music, it had to be as raw and personal as being intimate with another person. Right? In a different way, but the same level of vulnerability. Or he’d given so much of himself that his boundaries had totally evaporated.

  My boundaries were still held together by a worn thread. I didn’t want to set foot into the common area of the restaurant, but if I ever planned on leaving this office, I had to do something. There was no way in hell whoever caught us kept her mouth shut. That type of thing was just too good to keep to yourself.

  I gave up. “I can’t go out there.” When we finished and got dressed, I sat back down in the chair and looked up at Cam, who raised an eyebrow at me.

  “This is it?” he asked. “You’re going to stay back here for the rest of your life? There’s no shower back here. I’m just letting you know, in case you want to reconsider.”

  “Just until the end of the night.” I took another look at the door, considering it, but then realized that hiding out was the best thing I could do. “They’re all going to know.”

  Cam burst out laughing. “So what? They know, Daisy. You’ve been here every night this week. You leave with me.” He pulled me out of the chair, so our arms were stretched outright, and my body was against his. “I want them to know.”

  “I want them to assume. They didn’t need visual proof.” My legs felt like jelly. Cam led me out of the office, and helped me on to a barstool, then went behind the bar. I didn’t dare make eye contact with anyone. He reappeared with a shot and a beer chaser.

  “See, the world didn’t end.” He winked at me.

  “I guess you’re right.” Another shot appeared on the bar. I eyed it, and then Cam. “You’re going to have to drive me home if you keep this up.”

  “Maybe that’s our problem.” Cam played with a lock of my hair. “We wouldn’t have to keep putting on a show if we lived together.”

  Holy shit. Either this tequila was the most potent stuff on earth, or Cam really just asked me to move in with him.

  “You can’t give me two of those and then expect me to make big decisions.” I knew I was making those ugly drunk faces. Slutty Gumby, anyone? The shots made me instantly sea sick, a big accomplishment on solid ground. My joints felt rubbery, and my chin was rapidly melting into my neck. “And all we ever do is fuck.”

  “Wouldn’t it make our favorite pastime a little easier if we lived together?” The crooked smile. Maybe. Cam’s eyes were floating around his face. “There’s plenty of time to get to know each other.”

  I steadied myself on the arms of the bar stool. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  “Whoever you are, I like it.” He leaned in and kissed me, quick and chaste. Thank God, I don’t think I could have handled his tongue in my mouth. “I have to go on stage.”

  “Can I have some water?” I asked him before he left me, and had never been so appreciative to receive anything in my life. I almost forgot to take off the little paper topper. That would have made me puke for sure. The cold water melted some of the fur off of my tongue.

  The show that people actually came to see had started while Cam and I were performing in the back room. The place had filled in, a sea of anonymous faces enjoying their Saturday night. I’d never been so thankful to be a part of a crowd as I was at that moment. I was too drunk to freak out over it. I blended into the crowd, just another townie trying to live it up deep in the burbs. I had no idea who walked in on us. The packed room either worked in my favor, or the word spread like wildfire.

  Cam joined the band on stage. Tonight he wasn’t singing, yet anyway, he was playing rhythm guitar. Cam just couldn’t stay off the stage. He understood that some of the crowd was there to see him, it was after all his place. But what he really wanted to do was build the local musician’s community. South of the city was a vast wasteland of sucky entertainment. People down here were practically starving for things to do. I’d asked him to consider some rock acts too, not just country. And artists that played their own music. There was only so much beer in the world, and I didn’t want to waste it all drowning out butchered renditions of Maroon 5.

  I didn’t know the song they played, but the rest of the crowd sang along, rocking back and forth and fist pumping. My eyes were glued to Cam, his glow more than just the spotlight that was trained on him. His hair was still slightly damp from our play time, but otherwise, you’d never know what he’d been up to. It was our badly kept secret, and thinking about what we’d just done made my belly warm. Or maybe it was the tequila. My gaze fell to his fingers, plucking and tweaking the strings and making them cry out and sing, just like he’d done to me.

  Once Cam left the stage, the crowd swallowed him and he disappeared from my sight. I attempted standing up on the rungs of my bar stool, but it would have been like trying to walk on water right now. Didn’t need to wind up flat on my ass in the middle of this crowd. Everyone’s head turned to the opposite corner of the room. I couldn’t see what was going on, but it looked like something pretty monumental from the way people were turning to see, then back to their friends with their eyes were wide and they were gesturing rapidly. No one was even paying attention to the band anymore.

  People squeezed next to me, more intent on getting a drink than what was happening around them. I couldn’t see shit. One of the dudes getting a beer next to me had a serious case of BO, and I had to turn back to the bar to make sure I didn’t fall off my stool.

  Once that smelly guy was gone, I turned back toward the stage, and for the most part, things seemed to have gone back to normal. Some gangly-limbed, middle-aged women were dancing to the music, trying to pull their balding counterparts up with them. It looked like the Peanuts Christmas special out there.

  Where the hell did Cam go? I needed to chill out, he owned the place. There was no job description, even if he’d hired five people to do something, he still had to make sure it got done. And I didn’t own him.

  I’d gone to high school with Shauna, one of the bartenders, so she usually took care of me when Cam wasn’t around. We hadn’t been super close before, but I felt comfortable enough asking her what was going on when I was totally oblivious.

  Tonight, she was slammed, and I had a hard time getting her attention. Because gossiping with me was just as important as her doing her job, of course. Shauna must have felt my eyes following her, and she held her finger up to acknowledge me. I nodded, still watching her. Another bartender whispered something in her ear, making her eyes grow huge. She looked over at me and her mouth dropped.

  A couple minutes later, the crowd thinned around the bar and she brought me another shot.

  “So you heard, I take it.” I didn’t pick up the shot glass right away, but I twisted in my fingers, objects around it grew larger and smaller. Whoa. That shit needed to stop. I moved away from the shot glass.

  “Yeah.” Shauna looked disgusted. “But how did you?”

  Why was she talking in riddles? I probably shouldn’t drink this. Shit already wasn’t making sense.

  “I was there. I did it.” I leaned forward on my elbows, my drunken equilibrium sent me a little too far forward. Time to be proud of my whoredom.

  “What?” she said, scrunching her face up in confusion. “I think we’re not talking about the same thing.”

  Oh, thank God. But then what was going on? “What are you talking about?”

  “Cam’s wife is here.”

  What. The. Fuck?

  I downed that shot of tequila like it was holy water. God help me.

  Oozing off the bar stool, I got knocked back and forth like a human pinball trying to make my way through the crowd and back to Cam’s office.

  The tiny little voice that represented Sober, Reasonable Me insisted that I nee
ded to calm the fuck down, that there had to be a reasonable explanation for Ashley showing up here. But Drunken Idiot Me had no time for any of that rational shit.

  Why would he do this to me? Talk about screwing me in public. What the hell was she doing here?

  “Daisy! Daisy.” Shauna chased after me. I’d crossed the kitchen and headed down the hallway that ended at Cam’s office door. I stopped and let her catch up. “Are you sure you want to do this?

  “No! I don’t. But what am I going to do, just sit out there and let them rekindle their relationship?” I lowered my voice to a stage whisper, my “s” were all sloshed and lipsy. I wasn’t sure any of the cooks were paying attention to us, we probably just looked like run of the mill girl drama. “We just had sex in that office!”

  Shauna raised her eyebrows, then looked down the hallway at the closed door and smiled. “Yeah, I heard.”

  What if Cam and his awful wife were doing the very same thing behind the closed door?

  “I think I’m going to get sick.” That feverish feeling overwhelmed my body as I clapped my hand over my mouth, and ran out the side door. The hot garbage smell helped everything evacuate my body.

  Shauna had disappeared by the time I was done, and I didn’t blame her one bit. There are things no one needs to see. She came back with a glass of water. “Are you going to be all right?” She frowned at me. I must have looked like a hot mess.

  I nodded, sipping the water.

  “I have to go back to the bar. Lisa will kill me if I leave her alone any longer.” Shauna put her hand on my shoulder. “Go clean yourself up before you go barging in there. Come see me if you need anything else.”

  “Thanks.” Shauna was moving up my list of favorite people. Had she not stopped me, I would have ralphed all over Cam and his wife. Way to make an entrance, Daisy.

 

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