Sticks (Black Addiction #2)
Page 16
I gave them the thanks-but-no-thanks and kept it polite, because the other thing I was working on was dialing down the asshole. All part of the plan in being a better man. Not just for Kenzie, but for our kid too. Besides, it was time I did more than throw on a new coat of paint; I wasn’t fucking eighteen anymore.
My truck pulled up in front of Kenzie’s apartment like it had driven itself. My braining zoned out on the miles as I thought about seeing her. Every time it was just a little bit better.
“Knock, knock.” I drummed on her front door, the old lady who lived next-door giving me a look of disapproval for my loud announcement.
“Did we have plans?” She opened the door, her blonde hair piled on her head in a messy bun.
“Nope, was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” I leaned on the doorjamb and waited for the invitation. “Did you want me to give you a minute so you can sneak out your boyfriend? I can turn around, pretend I didn’t see.”
She laughed, throwing her head back as her eyes lit up.
“He left an hour ago, why do you think I’m ready for bed? He completely wore me out.” She cracked open the door wider to reveal her favorite sleepwear, a pair of shorts and T-shirt combo made me harder than anything in a Victoria Secret’s catalog.
Don’t let the game fool you. If there was even the slightest possibility there was a dude she was seeing, I’d probably hunt him down and rip his balls clean off. Clean. Off. Then I’d probably feed them to him just so he got the message. Lucky for me—and the general male population—she had shown no interest in other dudes. Thank you and hallelujah.
“You wanna do something tonight?” I walked into her apartment trying to keep my eyes off her ass as she walked in front of me. The hard-on-of-death already pitching a tent in my jeans.
“As in . . .” She sunk her ass down onto her couch and motioned for me to do the same.
And wouldn’t you know, the T-shirt she loved to wear to bed had gotten a little tighter since the last time I’d seen it. The curve of her tits being showcased like a brand new car on a game show. I’ll take blue balls for one hundred, Alex. It was going to be a rough night.
“I don’t know, something. We’ve been practicing for this gig like day in, and day out and I’m about to climb the walls. You wanna come hang out at the bar?” I suggested the first thing that came into my head, my ass coming down onto the seat beside her.
Trying to keep my eyes nailed to her face took most of the effort; the fact the sentence even made sense a serious fucking bonus.
“You want to take me to the bar even though I can’t drink?” She tilted her head to the side like I’d suggested we go skydiving. I guess it hadn’t been my best work.
“Sure, think of how much fun it will be. I’ll drink and you make sure I get home okay. We can even get burgers on the way.” I leaned back into the couch and rested my arm around the back, my hand just brushing up against her neck. See, model citizen, I didn’t even try to touch more.
“As exciting as that sounds—” She picked up her remote and brought the box to life. “—I’m going to have to take a pass. I have a hot date with Vikings and Dunkin Doughnuts. Nothing works up my appetite like a good raid.” She smiled and then slowly licked her lips.
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
I wasn’t going to make it.
As the opening sequence burned up the screen, my dick sent out an SOS of epic proportions, signaling this was not the shit he’d signed up for while I tried to remember what Ron Jeremy looked like naked.
“You want to stay and watch? I have a dozen original glazed.” She taunted as she lifted the lid of the cardboard box on the coffee table. The box and the contents of absolute zero interest to me.
“Sure,” I coughed into my fist as I watched her bend forward and grab a doughnut from the box.
“There’s like a billion calories in these, you want to get fat with me?” Her fingers lifted it to my mouth as her lips spread into a grin.
Two things.
She could eat about five hundred boxes of doughnuts and still not even be close to being fat.
Annnnnnnd if I ate that doughnut from her fingers I was probably going to throw her down on the couch and eat like a savage. And I didn’t mean the fucking doughnut.
“Nah, I’m good,” I mumbled through my locked jaw, genuine fear washing through me on what would happen if I opened my mouth. “You go first to make sure they aren’t poisoned.”
“Who said chivalry was dead.” She laughed and took a small bite. “See, perfectly safe. Delicious too. You are totally missing out.” She licked the glaze off her fingers and it took everything I had not to pass the hell out.
“Awesome.” I grabbed one of those bad boys and shoved it in my mouth, praying its sickly sweetness would send me into a sugar coma. Nothing fancy, just a few hours out cold so I could regain some of the feeling in my lower legs. Hopefully give my dick a reprieve because as it stood now—stood being the operative word—I wasn’t sure the thing wasn’t going to snap off.
“You’re such a pig.” She giggled taking another small bite.
The comparison to pork not nearly as offensive as the distance between my mouth and her body.
“I can’t be good looking, charming, a monster in the sack annnnd have perfect manners, babe. We have to give the rest of humanity a chance.” I moved my hand a little lower, coming to rest on her shoulder. Still acceptable without breaking my PG rule.
“True.” She leaned into me, her head resting on my shoulder. “If I fall asleep, don’t eat all the doughnuts,” she whispered against my chest, the tiny vibrations making my dick punch out against my fly.
“Trust me, Kenz.” I gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Doughnuts are the last thing on my mind right now.”
I had no idea why, but I was nervous.
Maybe it was because I still hadn’t told my parents, just wanting to live in my bubble a little longer. Or maybe it was something else.
Butterflies were flapping wildly in my stomach and I couldn’t stand still. I had gone completely overboard, spending hours obsessing over clothes and hair was something I hardly ever did. But tonight was special; it was Joey’s big night and I wanted to look amazing.
Of course it was because I hadn’t gone out in a really long time, and not because he had been so absolutely amazing in the last few weeks. That had nothing to do with the fact I was flipping between excited and I-am-going-to-pee-my-pants.
“Can you tell I’m pregnant? I probably can’t pull this off anymore. I swear my tits are like three times their usual size.” I poked at the top of my dress, my ample boob-age straining against the neckline. I’d always assumed it would take months before I looked any different, but small changes were starting to happen. The biggest one—my breasts.
“You look hot, I’d totally do you.” Sara waved off my concern with a flick of her wrist, her eyes coming to settle on the topic of conversation. “And your tits are definitely bigger.”
“I should have changed.” I tugged the hem of my dress, the length against my thigh sacrificed to compensate for my growing assets. “You’d tell me if I looked ridiculous, right?”
I was nervous enough tonight with just the Joey component, fussing over my outfit choice was a stress I didn’t need. Goddamit, I should have worn something else.
“I just offered to sleep with you and I’m straight. If that isn’t a ringing endorsement then there is no hope for you. The dress is fine.” Sara folded her arms across her chest, annoyed I didn’t believe her. She was right; the dress was fine. It was fine. It was fine. I repeated in my head.
“So that’s how it’s going to be tonight? Talk about tits and whether or not we’d fuck each other?” Becca wandered over, her hands straining with three bottles of beer and a water contained within them.
“Only Kenzie’s tits, and probably because they need their own zip code.” Abbey grabbed a bottle as her eyes also took up residence in my chest region. “Wow, do
you think they are going to get much bigger?”
“Okay, you can all stop now.” I rolled my eyes, twisting the top off the water wishing it was something with a little more kick. Sure as hell could have used it right now to take the edge off whatever it was I was feeling.
“Just putting it out there but I prefer dick, girls aren’t my flavor.” Becca’s grin hidden behind the bottle as she lifted it to her lips.
“Like I’d sleep with any of you.” I scoffed, glad I had the kind of friends who would even indulge this kind of conversation. “I know where you’ve all been.”
“Wow, kettle black much pot?” Abbey laughed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And who are we here to see again? Oh . . . that’s right, the dude whose baby you’re carrying.”
“She has a point.” Becca nodded as if seriously weighing Abbey’s words. “If anyone is displaying whore-like behavior, it’s you, Kenz.”
I laughed, the word whore often being used by one or more of us as a term of endearment, something most people didn’t understand. The power and sting being removed from something all of us had been branded with for most of our adult lives.
“You’re all whores.” Sara agreed, sipping her beer with enthusiasm.
CJ’s was packed to the brim, as it was every night—but tonight was special. Wall-to-wall people from varying walks of life had all gathered in the same place of worship to celebrate a common god. Music.
We’d waited two weeks for the night to finally get here. Black Addiction had been working their asses off if the amount of rehearsal was anything to go by, and I was excited I got to share it with Joey. The girls were along for moral support.
Nestled away in what used to be a bad part of town, was the iconic bar-come-club that for most of us was the Holy Grail. Legends were made and Goliaths tumbled, all on the same simple wooden stage. And through it all, the dirty red-bricked building exterior had remained unchanged.
Unlike standard clubs, CJ’s didn’t separate the talent from the mortals. All of us were thrown together as equals until someone stepped up onto the stage. The mingle that happened before and after, just as important.
“Ladies,” Rusty, Black Addiction’s talented guitarist greeted us. “I didn’t think they let your kind in here?”
“You mean incredibly talented?” I laughed, wondering where the rest of his band was. More like just one member in particular. “We’re here in case someone needs to show you how it’s done. Just give me a wave Rus, if the playing gets too complicated.”
“The wave won’t be happening, Kenz.” The assurance Rusty gave wasn’t necessary. He was an amazing guitar player.
“So, where’s the baby daddy?” Sara’s head whipped around, noticing no other members of Black Addiction. While I had been wondering the same thing, subtlety wasn’t in her repertoire.
“Yeah, I have to congratulate him. Seems all this time I was wrong and he did actually have a penis.” Becca laughed, enjoying herself even if it was at my expense and Joey’s. Thankfully he wasn’t around to hear her.
Abbey nodded in agreement. “Got to hand it to our girl for finding it, she’s a regular Magellan.”
“I hate you all.” I shook my head reminding myself it had been me who suggested we all come to CJ’s. “Ignore them, Rus, it’s what I do.”
“You girls are sick and twisted.” Rusty’s eyes moved slowly between each of us before breaking out into a smile. “And I fucking love that, we should tour together.”
“Name the time and place,” I said even though I knew it was a bullshit offer, allowing myself to indulge the fantasy. Being on tour with Joey would be a dream come true. Funny how not so long ago I wouldn’t have even considered the idea, and now I would give my right arm for it.
“Time and place for what?” Joe appeared behind us, the man of the moment gracing us with his appearance.
And holy shit.
Wow.
Just hearing his voice made my heart start beating a little faster. I didn’t even have to see him, with just those words enough to make my panties wet. While I’d always had an attraction to him, it had somehow amplified. Now I was a walking talking homing beacon whenever the man opened his mouth.
My skin prickled as I turned around, my eyes getting wider the minute I saw him. Which was ridiculous, because I’d seen him only a few days ago.
But tonight it was different.
He looked good.
Really good.
He was stage ready with a pair of dark-blue torn jeans, heavy black boots and black fitted-Tee. His colorful tattoos poked out from underneath the snug fabric, looking every inch the rock star. Irrational jealousy spiked inside of me, wishing I could be that shirt. Or at least, touch what was under it. What the hell was I saying? It was hot, the temperature in the club playing with my internal biology.
“Gang bang, Joe. You want in?” Rusty threw out the line, ready to reel him in.
Had to admit I really respected Rusty. Not only because he was amazing at what he did on stage, but also because he was really pulling my ass from the fire right now. Saving me from looking like an idiot while I stood there gaping like a goldfish.
His efforts infinitely helpful at the moment considering I was warring with some conflicted emotions. The ones where I was more interested in whether this club had bathrooms that locked rather than what was about to go down on stage.
“What?” Joey’s smile slipped as he turned to his guitarist. He hadn’t even taken the bait where sex was mentioned. Perhaps he hadn’t heard correctly. Not that I was interested. No, of course not.
“Hey Joey/loser/douchebag/dumbass,” polluted the air. His actual name only spoken by me. I tried to make it sound normal, even though no part of me actually felt that way.
“Rus, you should have told me the circus was in town.” Joey grinned, looking and nodding toward the girls.
While he may have initially been thrown off his game, he was back in standard form. His joke earning a few middle fingers from the girls much to his delight.
And thank God for that. Funny Joey, I could deal with—sexy Joey, not so much.
“Actually, Joey, we have an opening for the bearded lady.” I internally cheered I was able to keep it together. “Wait. That’s not right.” I paused before leaning in closer to him. “You’re too pretty for that.”
Bad idea.
A waft of his aftershave hit me, the scent dazzling me for minute. I probably shouldn’t do that again, making a mental note to maintain a safer distance. A mile or two should cover it. Anything closer and I was putting myself at unnecessary risk.
“Yeah, yeah, you ladies laugh it up.” He shrugged, completely unaffected by our light-hearted teasing, or my body’s apparent silent inferno. “But prepare for greatness, we’re going to explode on that stage tonight. I didn’t come all this way to choke.”
I coughed, clearing my throat and tried to remember that the words had been unintentionally sexy. The explosion was for the audience, and not for my own personal enjoyment. Pity my body hadn’t gotten the memo.
Not that any of us doubted he had earned his success, but we each had our reasons to poke fun at him and pretend like he wasn’t ridiculously talented.
For me, it was so I didn’t ask him to strip off his shirt and trace the curve of his torso with my tongue. Everyone else’s reason really didn’t matter at this point.
“Guys, I’d like to have a band on stage with me.” A nervous looking Angie joined the group, Max not far behind. “Twenty minute warning.”
Awesome, more reinforcements. There was safety in numbers and the bigger the buffer between Joey and I, the better. Considering I was having thoughts about his chest and my tongue, I needed all the help I could get.
“Ladies.” Max tipped his chin hello, Angie followed by giving us a wave in greeting.
“Looks like it’s show time.” Rusty nodded to Angie who was clearly about to hyperventilate. She wasn’t the only one. “And the spotlight waits for no one.”
Which left just one member of Black Addiction.
Ah. Crap.
“We’ll give you some space, let you have your awkward moment privately.” We were treated to another subtle segue courtesy of Sara. It was a talent always delivered with a smile and one I didn’t appreciate right now. Being alone with him wasn’t smart. In fact, it was downright stupid and I had to fight the urge to beg them not to leave.
Be sarcastic, I reminded myself, anything else is a trap.
Joey and I watched as the girls made a hilarious display of trying to discreetly move to the bar. They needn’t have bothered. I was happy to have my awkward moment with an audience—encouraged it in fact—but they weren’t to know that.
The consideration they’d shown was enough to make my heart swell, even if it had left me hanging out to dry. Sarcasm, I recited, and don’t look at him too much.
“You feeling all right?” Joey asked when we were finally alone. The question offered with what appeared to be no hidden agenda. Or at least I hoped he hadn’t suddenly developed mind reading abilities or that awkward moment was definitely going to happen.
“Aren’t I supposed to be asking you that?” I deflected, and praise baby Jesus I still had some fight in me. It hadn’t been easy.
Despite what I was feeling tonight, things hadn’t changed between us. We were happily planning to stave off the weird and keep it friendly between us. It wouldn’t be worth tossing it all away purely for instant gratification. Or would it? No. No it wouldn’t. Why was I struggling so much tonight?
“You can reach down and feel for yourself if you want.” His eyebrow rose suggestively as the outer edges of his lips curled into a grin.
So. Not. Helping.
My hand jerked at my side, ready to volunteer as tribute as I nervously laughed like an idiot hoping to God he didn’t ask again. I wasn’t sure I’d be so strong, especially when he was offering. How much trouble could I get into just by touching?