by Lisa Suzanne
She sends me the eye roll emoji, and I giggle.
I lay my head back on Axel’s couch, and the blankets around me are so cozy and soft. I close my eyes for just a second.
CHAPTER 6
AXEL
I really do have a meeting with Carter and Lance, but it isn’t for a few more hours. I head to The Port anyway, because that’s my new haven. It’s hard to call home a haven when the woman you’re in love with is lying on your couch and wants nothing to do with you.
I don’t know what else to do. I thought some shower sex would get both our heads on straight, but instead she denied me.
Again.
It was the same, but different. It was still a denial without actually telling me no, but this time, she just said she didn’t feel good. Maybe it’s me that’s making her not feel so good these days.
Kasey’s in early, showing Olivia how to make some of our more commonly ordered drinks, including the ones we have on special. I have an abundance of vodka and we’re running lower on tequila than normal, so I told Kasey to start experimenting with vodka drinks.
They’re occupied, and Ben’s got the place under control. I rely on him a lot. I’m technically the bar manager, have been for years, but Ben’s next in line. If I had to leave and choose my replacement, it would be him.
It certainly wouldn’t be the girl who asked me today when I walked in if vodka is gluten-free—the answer, by the way, is yes—and it certainly wouldn’t be the girl whose tits are once again spilling out of her shirt. I can’t say I don’t appreciate the view and I know it’ll bring in extra tips tonight, but I also don’t need them directly in my face.
I probably wouldn’t even notice if not for the fact that I’m feeling on edge in my own relationship. I head back to my office and close the door, which is solid with no little window looking in. When it’s shut, I have complete privacy, and what do I do when I’ve got the bluest balls I’ve ever had after Emme wouldn’t give me a taste of that sweet body in the shower this morning?
There’s only one right answer to that question.
It’s not the first time I’ve jerked off in my office, and it certainly won’t be the last.
I lock my door and sit down at my desk—which, by the way, is an utter disaster. Emme cleaned it for me once and thought it would stay neat, but she gave up on me as a lost cause after that.
I unbuckle my belt and pop the button of my jeans before unzipping them, and then I reach in and pull out my cock. It’s still half-hard from this morning, and I lean my head back and give it a few strokes. I think about Emme’s hands on me as I tug a little harder. I think of the tang of her sweet pussy as I increase my pace.
As I pump my hand up and down my shaft, my balls start to tighten. I’m used to sex every day with Emme, sometimes multiple times a day. She didn’t feel well last night, and she denied me this morning; I’ve gone longer than my body can handle. I slow my strokes because it feels good and I want this feeling to last just a little longer. I want to forget about the shit that’s been on my mind. I want to relish the pleasure.
Just as my balls start to slide up into my body, there’s a knock at my door.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I stop what I’m doing, even though I’m only seconds away from coming. I’m panting. I tuck my rock-hard cock back into my pants and fix my jeans and belt then stand and step toward the door.
I don’t know who the fuck is out there and interrupting me, but the first thought that pops into my mind is that it’s Emme and she’s come to finish what I just started on myself. I try to steady my breathing as my boner strains against my jeans. Everything feels tight and uncomfortable.
I finally unlock and open the door, and it’s not Emme out there at all. It’s Kasey.
“Hey boss,” she says. She eyes me closely for a minute. “You okay?”
I glance back at my chair guiltily but quickly wipe that expression off my face. She doesn’t need to know what I was doing in here, but my flushed face, labored breathing, and obvious erection are sort of giving me away.
“Yeah, fine. What do you need?”
“Is this an okay time to talk?”
“Yeah. I was just counting out one of the drawers,” I lie. “That’s why it took me a second to answer the door.” I feel confident in my lie, but I can also tell she doesn’t buy it. I don’t give a fuck, though. It’s my bar, and if I want to whack off in the office, I’ll whack off in the goddamn office.
“Okay.”
I head back to my chair, and she sits in one of the seats facing my desk. I force myself not to think about what I was just doing, but honestly, with her tits spilling over her shirt and the fact that I was seconds away from spurting all over my hand…well, it’s difficult to concentrate.
“I need a raise.”
Well if that’s not the way to dump ice-cold water all over me, I’m not sure what is.
“You’re already my highest paid bartender.”
“I know, but my boyfriend and I broke up, and I need to find a place to stay. I can’t afford my own place on what I make here.”
I shake my head. “Sorry Kase. I’m sorry you and your boyfriend broke up, but I really can’t afford to pay you more. You just got a raise when Carter and I took over.”
“I know, and I’m grateful for it, but San Diego is really expensive.”
I nod, because she’s right, though I’ve never had to worry about money. My aunt always made sure I was well taken care of, even when my mom couldn’t afford things on her own.
“Then pick up some extra shifts. Waitress during the day. They don’t split tips the way we do.”
She nods and holds her head up high. “Just thought I’d ask.”
“I’m sorry I can’t do better for you. Carter and I will be discussing wages in the upcoming months, but right now we’re unable to increase payroll.”
“I understand. Thanks for taking the time to listen anyway.”
I nod. “You know we both have open doors.”
“Well, most of the time. Your door was locked just now.”
I’m glad I have a beard, because I feel my face heat at that comment. “I had cash out. It’s policy.” My tone is short.
“Sorry Axel. I’ll get back to work.”
I nod.
“Hey, you sure you’re okay?”
I shrug. “Been better, been worse.”
“Me too.”
CHAPTER 7
EMME
I swear I closed my eyes for just a minute.
Three hours later, I wake up to darkness, and I have exactly thirty minutes to get out the door and figure out where the hell I’m going to pick up the band playing tonight since I didn’t arrange their ride before I fell asleep.
My car isn’t big enough for an entire band and all their shit, so I text Axel and ask if I can borrow his Jeep. He gives me the go-ahead, and I wish I hadn’t been so stupid. I hate picking up bands. It makes me feel like I’m doing the bitch work, because I am.
I pull up the address on my phone and allow the GPS to guide me down some seedy-looking streets as I wish I’d brought Courtney with me. At least then I wouldn’t be alone picking up a group of guys I don’t know.
I arrive at their address, and lucky for me, a couple of guys are standing by their gear in the driveway as they puff on some cigarettes.
“Emme?” one of them says, and I step down from Axel’s huge Jeep into the driveway. “Emme Ford?” he asks. His voice is familiar, and it takes me a beat to place it. I know I’ve heard this voice before, and when it hits me, it really hits me. It’s a voice I never thought I’d hear again.
It can’t be him…can it?
I squint to see who’s saying my name in the darkness of the driveway, and then my eyes suddenly focus. When they do, my heart skips a beat. It’s him. “James Wakefield?”
He grins. “It is you!” he says. He stubs out his cigarette on the ground and then he grabs me up into a big bear hug where he lifts me off the ground and swings me
around.
“You’re in a band now?” I ask.
He nods and smiles. “And you’re…” His smile fades. “You’re picking up bands to drive them to their gigs?”
I giggle. “I’m a promoter for The Port, and I forgot to schedule a ride for you. So, here I am.”
“It’s so good to see you! You look as beautiful as the last time I saw you.”
I’m sure I blush, and now I’m thankful for the darkness.
I haven’t seen James in years, not since after my junior year of high school. I lost my virginity to him, we dated for a while, we went to junior prom together, and then he moved over the summer—he was from a military family who moved often. We lost touch after that, but he was my first love, the guy I compared every other guy to. We didn’t break up because we wanted to; we broke up because his dad got stationed in Germany and we didn’t have a choice.
Now, here he stands in front of me, looking like the boy I used to love in a man’s body. We stare at each other until a voice interrupts us.
“Emme? I’m Braden,” the voice says, and I tear my gaze away from James.
Braden, right—the lead singer of Digital Shade, my contact for setting up this whole gig.
James Wakefield, though. I can’t believe he’s standing here in this driveway.
I shake my head to clear it then extend my arm to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Braden.”
“You didn’t have to come get us,” he says.
“I promised a ride.”
“Well thanks. Should we just start loading our shit, then?” Braden asks.
I nod. “I can help.”
Braden eyes my thin frame up and down for a minute and then raises an eyebrow in my direction. “We got it.”
I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to defend myself and say I do yoga and strength training and can probably lift more than he can, but I don’t. The customer is always right, as they say.
I head back to Axel’s Jeep.
Axel, right—the guy I’m seeing.
I feel a little tingle of guilt about my body’s reaction when I first spotted James. I didn’t want anything to do with the naked guy in my shower this morning, but just hearing James’s voice hit me in a place I hadn’t expected it to.
And that’s just wrong.
Three of the four band members get into the back seat after all their gear is loaded. James, though, slides in front next to me.
I start the car and take a deep breath, refusing to allow this little wrinkle to throw me off.
“So how’ve you been?” he asks.
“Great,” I say, though I suppose that’s a bit of a lie. The last time I saw him, we ended things. I was heartbroken for a long time, and then I started dating Declan, who I was with for three years. After I caught him cheating, I played the field. I had a lot of fun. I didn’t really date anyone else until I started sleeping with Axel. “How about you?”
I don’t look over at him, but I want to.
“Fine,” he says softly. “I was with my parents in Germany for six years. I moved back here and thought about looking you up a million times…” He trails off and leaves that between us.
I wondered a million times what happened to him, too, but as life goes on, those things fade. My heart mended—even if a little piece would always belong to him—and my thoughts about him faded from a thousand times a day to a few times, to once a day, to once every few days. Now, I can’t even remember the last time I thought about him.
“Life goes on,” I say awkwardly.
“Yeah.”
I listen to the guys in the back seat for a minute; they’re reviewing their set list.
“How’d you get involved with Digital Shade?” I ask. It feels private up here as we have our own conversation.
“Braden lived in the same apartment complex as me when I moved back, and we had a few beers and started jamming one day. He already had the band, but they were missing a bassist.”
“You play bass?” He didn’t—at least when I knew him, he didn’t.
“I do now.” He chuckles. “I learned in Germany. My parents wanted me to pick up a hobby when we moved there because I was so distraught…” It’s another thought he lets trail off. “Anyway, I remembered how much you loved music. You were my motivation for learning how to play.”
Funnily enough, my parents had encouraged me to pick up a hobby when he left, too. My path led me to local concerts and getting to know the local music scene—which, ironically, led me right back to James today.
“That’s…” I’m not sure what it is; flattering seems like too generic a word. “Flattering.” I settle on it anyway.
“It’s the truth.”
“I can’t wait to hear you play.”
“What does a promoter for a bar do, exactly?”
“Pick up bands and drive them to the bar,” I say. He chuckles. “Schedule music, get people to the bar, make sure everyone’s having a good time.”
“It’s good to see you.”
It’s good to see him, too, but I can’t say that. It’s too forward, and it’s too reminiscent of the past—especially considering that for all intents and purposes, I’m spoken for.
It’s hard to pretend like I never wondered what if, though.
Once we arrive at The Port, the band has their own stuff to do, so I’m sort of off the hook when it comes to one-on-one conversation with James, at least for the time being. I typically text Darryl to take bands to and from the bar if they require a ride, and he’s pretty amenable to last-minute requests. Tonight, though, as I stare at the empty text box and think about typing one out asking him to take Digital Shade home, I’m a little at odds about what to do. Part of me wants to talk more with James. Is he seeing anybody? Did his heart skip a beat when he realized it was me the way mine did?
Does he still think about me?
These are questions clouding my already tired mind, but I’m not sure knowing the answers would actually do me any good.
My eyes meet Axel’s for one brief moment as he fills a pitcher for me to bring back to the band. His eyes are hard as he works, but they always soften when they land on me. I shoot him a small smile, and he winks at me before handing me a tray with the pitcher and several pint glasses.
My heart warms.
I finally tap out a text to Darryl. It’s safer this way, and this is the right thing for me to do. He writes back in less than thirty seconds to let me know he’s available to drive, and that’s it. I’m off the hook for driving the band home, which is a blessing.
I’m just wondering why it doesn’t feel that way.
CHAPTER 8
EMME
Digital Shade is actually really good. They’re sort of an odd mix of rock and dance music, and I’m digging their style. James has a lot of talent. I remember him being rhythmic when it came to certain activities, but I never likened his rhythm to musical talent.
I study him as he plays, and he’s a natural up there. I remember him being more reserved—a little quiet, a little shy. He was an athlete, not a musician. As I recall, he wasn’t even in the school band. I guess our interests were just different back then.
They are now, too, I remind myself. My interest in his band—and, therefore, in him—is strictly professional. I force myself to look away, because I can’t be obvious. Axel is mere feet away, and if he thought for a second I was interested in someone else, I can’t imagine what would happen.
He’s protective. While he’s a big teddy bear to me, I’m not certain he would be so kind to someone who might be competing for my attention—not that James is competing for my attention, per se, but I don’t want Axel to misunderstand. In fact, I don’t want him to know anything about my history with James.
I head back to my office, sit at my desk, and take a deep breath. I need a drink. I shouldn’t have come back here without one.
I open my email and take care of some correspondence, check the schedule for the upcoming week, and text Darryl with the
ride requests. I’m not getting sucked into picking up another band.
Courtney bursts into my office, startling me. I jump in my chair and hold my hand over my heart to calm it for a few seconds.
“I need your help,” she says between pants.
I look at her with alarm. “Are you okay?”
She shakes her head as her eyes fill with tears.
“Sit,” I say, and she sits in the chair facing my desk. “What’s wrong? Is it Carter?”
She bursts into tears.
“What did he do?” I grit through clenched teeth.
She shakes her head. “No,” she says through her tears. She wipes her eyes and sucks in a shaky breath. “It’s not Carter. He’s perfect. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Talk to me.”
“It’s all happening too fast and I’m overwhelmed. I didn’t want to bother you out there, but I saw you come back here and I need you.”
“I’m here, Court. Whatever you need.”
“I just can’t keep up with wedding planning and impressing his family and appeasing my mom and coming up with new content for the blog.”
“Let’s start with impressing his family. Why, exactly, is this a concern?”
“They’re like gazillionaires, and I’m just…not. I want everything to be perfect—to be up to their standards.”
“Do you love Carter?”
She gives me a strange look. “Of course I do.”
“Does he love you?”
She gives me an even stranger look. “He asked me to marry him, didn’t he?”
“Then who cares about impressing anybody?
“I do.” She stresses the I and points to her own chest.
I nod to appease her. “Okay, so we’ll impress the family. What’s up with your mom?”
“She wants to be involved in every decision and I can’t fucking take it! I don’t have time for it!”
“You’re right, you don’t. So make some decisions without her.”
“I can’t. She’s all up in my business twenty-four seven.”