by Amber Burns
By the time I shudder through the sticky release, wash myself down and reach for the towel, the promise is solidified and shielding me from the day’s events.
I’m going to leave only one thing behind in Orange Compass, the three grand I gave old man Harry. That’s it. That’s all.
Mopping a hand over the sweating sink mirror, I glare right back at the man on the other side. Bastard. I resist the inclination to smash my fist against the window, to feel something other than the storm unfurling inside me.
Gripping the sink, I come back down to earth, to rationality, to being Ryker McBride, lead vocalist of Tense Finger and not some hormonal teenager working out his problems physically, violently.
Yeah. I’d only be leaving six grand and not Astra.
3
“Mr – Ryker.”
Astra sits up from the crossword she’s poring over as I tap her shoulder in greeting. She jolts so fast, her legs, crossed under the table, smack the top and upset her sweet, sugary-smelling drink.
I catch her cup before it upends over her progress on the crossword. Astra is ready with a napkin and an apology.
“No harm, no foul.” I wriggle my fingers and brandish my top coat aside to show her I’m spill-free. She wipes off the small bit of coffee that did spill and crinkles the napkin, only to unfold it and then scrunch it again.
Our eyes catch and she jerks to the right. “Here.” She pushes a cup I hadn’t noticed toward me. “It’s black, but I grabbed two creams and sugars in case.”
I shrug off my coat and accept the drink, pouring the sugars and holding on the dairy. After my first sip I broach the subject of our meeting. “Your call surprised me.”
She’s silent, so I add, “Not that this date isn’t a pleasure.”
“Date?” she repeats, the hand holding the handle of her mug flying up and shaking off the word. My gut clenches, and I scald my tongue, biting back the curse on my lips.
Why did she have to react like that? Damn it, I was only joking. But I’m the one who isn’t laughing and Astra…she looks pained by my implication, as if I could have mistaken her call, our meeting in the coffee shop a block from the B&B as something other than platonic.
“Sorry, bad joke,” I mumble, occupying my mouth with a succession of sips. I couldn’t trust myself to say something stupid before I scared her from speaking her mind.
Considering I finally got around to knocking out early in the morning, I chased dawn to the Lopez residence and breakfasted with Custodio and his wife before Lola and her little brother joined us.
The idea was to tell everyone about the news of Tense Finger’s arrival in a couple days. I suffered Lola’s squealing and multiple hugs until Custodio pulled me away to talk more about the upcoming dinner with his business pal, Campo and his daughter, the very single, supposedly nubile, Katerina Campo.
Back in my headspace an hour after Custodio’s second sorry attempt to get me to sign up on this arranged marriage business, I answered the call waiting for me at the inn’s front desk.
Astra’s reason was vague over the phone; she wanted to ask me something from yesterday. We scheduled a meeting in the hour at the café I’d passed multiple times in and out of the B&B.
As soon as I hung up, I regretted the public meeting place. Not knowing how I could reach her again, I seriously contemplated the glasses-and-hat to ward off any curious on-lookers.
Once Lola finished finalizing the designs on her party invitations, the news would be out of my existence back in Orange Compass, but I still liked the idea of enjoying a cup of Joe with Astra.
Looking around now, I’m happy I skipped on the glasses after all. For a Saturday, the cozy café isn’t as packed as I’d suspect it would be. The three-day storm must have weeded out the weaker customers. Fat snowflakes falling from the white-gray heavens are piling around the edges of our window view of Main Street.
The tables behind and in front of Astra’s window seat are empty, most patrons heading for the cushier booth seating.
Having noticed my attention out the window, Astra apologizes for her invitation. “It’s coming down hard. We didn’t get anything like this in Columbia.”
“You’re not from here?” I ask, glad to grip onto a topic change. I’m still smarting from her rejection and the confusing signals in-between since we’ve met.
“I moved down here five months ago for the start of the school year at St. B&J.”
I pegged her as a new hire earlier – just not that new. The pieces fall into place, seeing how she reacted to Lola’s attitude in her office the first day, and the omnipresent fatigue plaguing her aura.
She lowers her mug, tongue dashing across her lips to catch the beads of coffee. “Orange Compass is different than Columbia.”
“In more ways than the snow,” I finish her thought, and when she doesn’t correct me I know I got it right. Taking a break to sip my complimentary coffee, I keep her in my sights over the mug.
Her lashes lower, fanning over her cheeks as her finger traces out an undecipherable pattern over the newspaper. “I should have been clearer when I called. Sorry.”
“To be honest, you saved me from spending the day going out of my mind. I’m almost hoping whatever you called me out for isn’t as dangerous as it sounded.”
Astra pops a hand over her mouth. “Dangerous?”
“Yeah,” I bring my elbow up on the table, supporting a hand under my cheek. “Call it what you want, thrilling, mysterious, adventurous, I’m scared I’ve hyped this way too much.”
“It’s nothing like that, really,” she rushes, looking nervous nevertheless. “I just wanted to ask about yesterday. At Harry’s Gold Trades, what happened? What did you say to the owner to make him give back the jewelry box?”
“I gave him a little heart-to-heart.” My brow quirks up, my lips lifting, “But you don’t believe that?”
“It’s just, I,” she pauses to study her drink, both her hands squeezing around the mug like it’s become her lifeline.
I’m sitting up ramrod before I call to her. Astra is slow to level our eyes, her teeth working her lower lip.
“What’s up?” I ask, a little afraid to hear her answer suddenly.
“I went back to the pawn store,” she’s not finished with her explanation but I fill in the gap. She went back to the store and found out about the trade off and old man Harry’s big payday.
I close my mouth on the entrance of a group of five teens. Thankfully Lola isn’t in the group, but I’m suddenly wary of the café and wishing I’d at least brought the glasses for drastic measures.
“…but it’s too much,” Astra blinks as she notes that I’m not paying her heed. She’s turning her head to follow my gaze when I intercept her.
“Would you like to go for a drive?”
“Right now?” Astra’s voice rises with her confusion. She must see I’m serious because she shrugs. “I’m done with my coffee, but you won’t be able to take yours.”
“It’s all right.”
The teen are making their way to a booth that’s just far enough. Still not wanting to take the risk, I jump at Astra’s acceptance and help her by holding her drink and newspaper while she gathers her coat from the back of her chair and her purse.
She’s heading to her car parked out front when I say, “Do you mind if we take my car?”
Astra doesn’t argue though her intrigue is plainly writ on her face. The walk re-caps her discovery at Harry’s.
“He shouldn’t have told you that.” My jaw locks from irritation. At six thousand bucks, you’d think Harry could shut his mouth and not air our business. Maybe I should have let Astra’s friend, Holly, pull out those gold caps of his.
“I’m glad he did! It’s a lot of money.” Astra takes the passenger side and slips in beside me, looking about as if trying to settle into her surroundings. There isn’t much of me inside the car, other than the empty energy cans in both drink trays.
Since I’m not picking up the topic
as readily as I figure she hoped, Astra lapses into silence.
In the car I aim wildly, driving down streets I remember but would love to forget. Astra remains quiet for a few more lights, and when she finally speaks she veers instead to the weather.
When I mention L.A., she looks at me with interest. “You live in Los Angeles?”
“Yeah,” I say, unsure of what that means to her.
She sinks into her seat and continues staring out the window. I almost believe she’s dropped the topic and then she says, “It must be such a shock coming from L.A. to here.”
“What?” braking at a light, I hazard a glance to gauge her expression following the comment.
Astra blinks, worry drawing her thin, red brows together. “The weather must be such a surprising. More of surprising than coming from Columbia to Orange Compass…”
At the tilt of her head, I relax and concentrate on driving through the snow. She wasn’t referring to my history with OC. And I have to stop being so damn jumpy before I kill us both.
I’m exaggerating.
Main Street is being actively plowed. It makes the drive a little bearable. I slow and stop when we reach the end of Main Street, and the quiet beginning of the less plowed neighborhoods nearer the shore.
Deciding the car is as good a place to talk, I adjust the heat and fiddle with the radio station and volume for background noise. Nothing like a little soft rock to take off the edge, the sting of most things…
“About the money,” I interject, taking our conversation from weather back to rockier ground. “It comes favor-free.”
“It’s a lot of money.” Astra repeats. She’s wearing a frown that isn’t going to budge anytime soon. Understandable.
I’d sensed something had been off since I met her, and it finally hit me this morning. A huge part of the reason I’ve been so moody, too. She has no clue who I am, and isn’t that a freaking wonderful.
I know I’m right because I’m looking into her eyes, all deep shit and stuff.
There’s no recognition and none of the familiar fangirl craze glinting in the swirls of warm hazel with touches of green. What’s more she wouldn’t be worrying about six grand if she knew how much I was really worth.
“I know Holly, and she wouldn’t have accepted her jewelry back if she knew you paid so, so much for it. It’s criminal!”
I debate telling her and then let it go. She’d probably learn soon enough, and I could savor the sweet, underrated anonymity for a bit longer.
“I’d be able to pay in small installments if that’s all right with you.” Astra is staring ahead, her side profile revealing her set mind. Lips sucked in, eyes blinking rapidly, and her nostrils flared, I get the image of a woman prepared to battle for this.
Damn.
“I told you there are no strings attached. Consider it my Good Samaritan deed.”
Astra shakes her head. She’s refusing to look at me, likely as it’ll break that tight concentration of hers. “I can’t. It’s not right.”
“Because you think it’s bribe money, or you’re afraid someone else will?” I bend my knee resting it on my seat as I shift to face my back towards my door. I need to be looking at her for this.
Astra’s surreptitious glancing doesn’t fly over my head. I soften my tone, seeking a sense of calm. “That was uncalled for.” I apologize. We’ve both been doing that around each other a lot. “That said, I also had no design for bribery,” I shift to face the front window too. It’s getting harder to look at her.
We’re quiet for a moment then Astra pipes up, “I did enjoy the chocolates.”
I glance over and seeing that I’m her captive audience, she continues, “They tasted fine after they thawed in the microwave.”
“The microwave? That’s new.” My smile encourages her to lift her own lips.
I look out the window, my gaze landing on a familiar ornament up ahead. I thought I’d been driving aimlessly, but apparently I’m hardwired for Orange Compass.
“Want to take a quick walk?” I’m asking, not waiting to hear her answer fully. I pull the key from the ignition and hear Astra climbing out her end, her car door closing. I meet her on the pavement, or what the snowplough revealed of it, and my hand naturally settles over her mid-back, gloves brushing her wool coat.
Astra isn’t shifting away, so I keep my hand there as I lead the way.
I’m hyperaware of her puffing breath, the fruity smell of her hair and her soft body under the outer layers. Her chest is rising and falling by the time I confirm the old, bright red shoelace tied around the vintage lamppost marking the end of Main Street.
The neighborhood unfolding in front of us is silent. No kids are stirring out on the lawns, parents no doubt keeping them housebound from the weather’s harshness.
It’s more brown now then red, the elements and the years turning color but preserving the memory as fresh as feeling the cold metal around my thighs and my slippery fingers losing the grip several times on the shoestrings, arms sore from pulling the lacing them tight before sliding down –
“Ryker?” Astra’s closer, turning to me. I can feel her breath reaching my neck, washing heat over me and stirring my cock to attention.
“We’ll walk a bit and then I’ll take you back to your car. I want to sort out this money stuff.”
“I’d like that, too,” she concurs. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you were trying to buy me off or something. But I don’t feel comfortable with taking your money.
“And like I said, I know Holly wouldn’t accept it either if she knew. Which is why I called you out in the first place,” Astra says. “Holly’s getting suspicious, too. If she finds out she’ll say the same thing.”
“And?” I’m staring around, taking in my childhood neighborhood, but still sensitive to Astra’s proximity. “Why are you offering to pay in her place? Oh, and don’t tell me that’s what friends do.”
Astra’s hesitation brings me back a hundred percent. She pops out her lip and explains. “Holly’s new like me, only she came here about a year ago after she finalized her divorce with her husband. It’s been hard for her raising her son, Liam and working from home.”
I nod. “Sounds like she’s got her hands full,” my sympathy genuine having been raised in a similar situation, minus the self-sufficient entrepreneur of a mother. I push my thoughts back, feeling a bit selfish to be wallowing in my pity when Astra’s sharing Holly’s story with me.
“He isn’t helping Liam either.”
“Financial troubles,” I fill in, nodding. “And you don’t have your own problems?”
I’m ready to smack myself at the wording, an apology and correction at my tongue when Astra smiles sadly.
“I don’t have a family to worry about, like Holly, so sparing money isn’t a problem.”
Me, too, I think, my hand doing the talking and comforting for me. Slipping around the side of her waist, I bring her to a stop with me and she pauses, rapture claiming her features, opening her eyes and mouth.
I cup her cheek and I feel, see her rigidity setting in. Riveted describes her stare perfectly. I’m sure if I concentrate I can see the pulse at the base of her neck.
Freaking happy to see she’s as affected as me, I still the caresses of my thumb and move to meet her lips. Astra’s soft jerk initiates my hand to slid into her hair and grip her skull, keeping her in place, locking her to the inevitable.
Our lips are a hot mesh, my other hand holding Astra by her back, pushing her against me, relishing in the feel of her softer body yielding to mine. Her moan vibrates through me and I respond with a groan.
She moans again when I grab her ass, my dick stiffening at the plump flesh in my palm. I break our contact and give us a chance to breathe – well, give Astra a chance to breath; I’m busy peppering kisses over her jaw up to her ear where I dash my tongue up her shell and grab the tip between my teeth.
Applying light pressure, I tug and release.
I find her mouth
again, her lips swollen and glossy from our first slippery lip lock. My tongue wriggles to the fore and I’m pleased to gain entrance on contact. She’s jumping into this with both feet, returning my duel in her mouth with everything she’s got.
“Astra.” I grunt her name when she’s rubbing her lower belly over my cock. There’s all the clothing between us, but my body on fire still. I’m about this close to tossing off my coat and peeling off her layers, anything to get to her body. Burning up as I am, the rational part of me knows I have no way to cool this off.
Considering having sex on the street is not an option.
A memory comes to mind as I disengage our latest kiss, I’ve lost count.