Always been You

by Mia Scott

  "Is he—?"

  "Bombed out of his gourd? You betcha! He's going to be so mad tomorrow when he realizes he consumed approximately ten bazillion calories." They both let out a hearty laugh and Maggie grabbed Alisha's hand, weaving through the crowd over to the table. "Don't they sound great? We're having so much fun—but it's even better now that you're here."

  "All you wanna do is ride around Sally. Ride, Sally, ride."

  His voice really was good, and he looked like he was having a blast performing. She smiled fully when she looked to the stage. "They do," she agreed, dropping her bag on the table.

  Russell looked up with wide, glassy eyes and a bright smile on his boyish face. "İAy caramba, mamacita! Muy caliente!"

  Alisha smirked, which gave way to a full-blown grin. Drunk!Russell and his predilection for speaking Spanish never failed to entertain. "Gracias, Señor!" she said sassily.

  "Let's get closer to the stage," Maggie suggested, grabbing Alisha's hand again and dragging her along, ignoring the rude comments from other women in the crowd as they pushed their way to the front.

  "Jesus, Maggie," Alisha said, rolling her shoulder. "I think you nearly pulled my arm out of the socket."

  "Suck it up, pal." She looked to the back of the small stage where James was and felt the giddy thrill course through her body. "God, he's so cute."

  "Good kisser?" Alisha asked with a dimpled grin.

  Maggie flushed hot and caught her bottom lip between her teeth, nodding slowly. "Mmm hmm!"

  "Look at the bright side—at least when he sets you on fire he'll know how to put the flames out again," she said with a cheeky smile, nudging Maggie's shoulder.

  He'd noticed her almost from the moment she'd walked into the bar. It was like he had some strange Spidey-sense-slash-Alisha-radar—and that weirded his shit out. Still, he was glad to see her. Besides, she looked smokin' and that was always a point in the plus column as far as he was concerned.

  Big sang the last few bars of Mustang Sally and smirked behind the microphone when he saw Maggie drag Alisha to the front of the audience. They had one more song planned before the break, so he decided to play one that was sure to knock her socks off. Because even though he had zero interest in a girlfriend (totally worth repeating as often as possible) that didn't mean he didn't like making girls swoon and pant after him. He turned and exchanged a few quick words with his band mates and stepped up to the mic again. "This is our last song before the break and it's dedicated to Shorty, who decided to grace us with her presence tonight." Yeah, that's right…a dedication. He was no amateur. He was the fucking man. Big slanted his eyes in her direction and couldn't miss the shocked look in her eyes nor the tiny smile playing on her lips.

  Alisha's stomach did a loopty-loop when he dedicated the song to her and she felt the goose bumps break out over her arms when he brought the harmonica to his lips and the opening notes of Thunder Road poured out in time with the piano. She was vaguely aware of Maggie digging her elbow into her ribs like OhmyGodAlisha, but everything melted away when he closed his eyes and opened his mouth. All she could see and hear was this man with his beautiful and deep voice singing one of her favorite songs in the whole world.

  The screen door slams, Mary's dress waves

  Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays

  Roy Orbison singing for the lonely

  Hey, that's me and I want you only

  Don't turn me home again, I just can't face myself alone again

  Don't run back inside, darling, you know just what I'm here for

  So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore

  Show a little faith, there's magic in the night

  You ain't a beauty but, hey, you're alright

  Oh, and that's alright with me

  The song began to build as Big strummed his guitar and James came in on the drums.

  You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain

  Make crosses from your lovers, throw Rosemarys in the rain

  Waste your summer praying in vain

  For a savior to rise from these streets

  Well now, I ain't no hero, that's understood

  All the redemption I can offer, girl, is Beneath this dirty hood

  With a chance to make it good somehow

  Hey, what else can we do now?

  Alisha looked around the crowd and smiled at everyone dancing and singing along. She caught Maggie watching her and she smiled and the two joined in right along with them.

  Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair

  Well, the night's busting open, these two lanes will take us anywhere

  We got one last chance to make it real

  To trade in these wings on some wheels

  Climb in back, heaven's waiting on down the tracks

  Oh-oh, come take my hand

  We're riding out tonight to case the promised land

  Oh-oh-oh-oh, Thunder Road

  Oh, Thunder Road, oh, Thunder Road

  Lying out there like a killer in the sun

  Hey, I know it's late, we can make it if we run

  Oh-oh- oh- oh, Thunder Road

  Sit tight, take hold, Thunder Road

  His eyes met hers and she could've sworn she saw the briefest grin flash across his face as he held her gaze and sang the next verse. She didn't care or feel embarrassed. She didn't shy away from the intensity of the look between them. She just flashed him a dazzling smile and continued to sing the words of The Boss as the music swept through her.

  Well, I got this guitar and I learned how to make it talk

  And my car's out back if you're ready to take that long walk

  From your front porch to my front seat

  The door's open but the ride ain't free

  And I know you're lonely for words that I ain't spoken

  But tonight we'll be free, all the promises'll be broken

  Big broke the look and turned back to the rest of the crowd to finish out the song.

  There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away

  They haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned-out Chevrolets

  They scream your name at night in the street

  Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet

  And in the lonely cool before dawn

  You hear their engines rolling on

  But when you get to the porch, they're gone on the wind

  So Mary, climb in

  It's a town full of losers, I'm pulling out of here to win

  The band played out the instrumental end of the song and earned every last one of the enthusiastic cheers and rounds of applause, according to Alisha, who clapped her hands and turned to find Maggie watching her with a curious expression on her pretty face. "What? I love Springsteen," she shrugged, making Maggie roll her eyes playfully. "I'm going to get another drink. Want one?"

  "Sure. Just a beer for me," Maggie answered. "No more Tiki Punch for Russell though."

  Alisha laughed and peeled off her leather jacket. It was entirely too hot inside for it now. "Here, take this. Be right back with our beers."

  She leaned against the bar, watching the bartender work as she waited for him to take her order, humming along with the Bob Marley tune that blared through the speakers.

  Big walked to the end of the bar for faster service and saw her resting casually against the bar, now sans jacket and looking hot as fuck. "Hey, Larrington!" he boomed over the din.

  Alisha's head snapped up and she looked over, spying Big grinning wickedly at her. She lifted a hand in greeting. The smile tugged at her lips when he motioned her over with a slight jerk of his head. She wanted to stay right where she was, but her feet had other plans evidently, because she skirted around the other thirsty patrons to get to where he was standing. Reading his t-shirt Biff Tannen is a jerk made her burst into laughter. "Hey," she giggled up at him.

  One eyebrow cocked, he stared q
uestioningly down at her. "What?"

  "I like your shirt."

  He smirked and was somewhat surprised that she got the reference. But really, who doesn't like Back to the Future? "Thanks." His eyes traveled down the length of her body and took in the sight of the delicate swells of her breasts peeking out the top of her tank. No way was she wearing a bra under it, he thought, grinning lecherously. "I like yours, too."

  It was a sad day indeed when she was growing accustomed to the filth that spewed from his mouth. She blamed her two performances that day and The Boss—and maybe the beads of sweat glistening off him and the scruff on his face—for disarming her. "You're a disgusting pig," she said without malice, even smiling slightly.

  Big laughed then. "You sound less sure of that these days."

  Alisha shrugged, not wanting to dwell on that idea, and looked over towards the bartender and then back at Big. "I don't suppose you get faster drink service since you're with the band, do you?"

  Her dark eyes sparkled humorously in the neon light of a Parrot Bay sign, though her expression remained sober. The contradiction made him laugh. "Maybe. You trying to take advantage of me?"

  "Only for the beer," she replied tartly.

  "Hey, Tim! How about a few beers down here before I get so old my fucking balls shrivel up and fall off? “? He looked back and Alisha and smiled.

  "Charming," she remarked dryly.

  He lifted and dropped a shoulder carelessly, looking her over again. "Got your lift kit on tonight?" he asked, pointing to the hot red shoes on her feet. He thought those would look amazing hoisted in the air while he moved between her thighs.

  "My what?" she asked, feeling the heat radiate off him in waves.

  The corner of his mouth upturned. "Your lift kit—you're less short tonight, Shorty."

  She glanced down at her feet and then back up at his face. "Oh."

  "What can I get you, Big?" Tim, the bartender, asked.

  Big got a few beers for himself the guys and lifted a brow at Alisha. "Two Miller Lites," she told the man in the Hawaiian shirt.

  "Thirsty?" he asked, amused.

  "One's for Maggie."

  "So, you're not a lush?"

  "Not tonight," she laughed.

  The question on the tip of his tongue went unspoken when Tim reappeared with their beers, setting them down on the bar. She hadn't said anything about the band or the song and the pang of—God, the pang of disappointment—was quick and edgy and foreign as fuck. He wasn't about to do anything as gay as asking what she thought until the words burst forth from his mouth in a rare pussified display of weakness. "So, what'd you think of our band?" Christ on a crutch. Shut your fucking mouth.

  Alisha's smiled slowly, amused by the internal war the thoughts in his head seemed to be waging. "You guys sound really great—loved Thunder Road. That's one of my all-time favorites." When he smirked proudly, his swagger back in full effect, she chuckled. "You were a little flat in parts, but overall very, very good."

  He snorted and shook his head, drawing the beer bottle up to his lips. "Thanks, Larrington," he drawled sarcastically.

  "Just trying to help," she stated and reached for two of the beers. "Can't wait to hear your next set." She tipped the bottle to her mouth and sipped, then clinked her bottle against his. "Thanks for the drinks—and my dedication—it's almost like we're friends now." The dimples winked in her cheeks as she smiled at him and turned to walk away.

  "Hey, Larrington," he called after her.

  She paused and turned back to him. "Yes, Big?"

  "Between almost friends…your ass looks hot in those jeans." The grin on his face turned completely roguish when she blushed first, failing to mask it with a quick roll of her eyes.

  "Big, make like a tree and get outta here!" she called, quoting the character that inspired his t-shirt. Alisha flashed him her million-watt smile and went to join her friends.

  Chapter 7

  Two weeks had passed since the Fire Extinguishers performance and since then Alisha had moved out of Maggie's luxury apartment and back into her own comfortable and modest digs. She'd taken Big's advice on not going back there alone. In fact, Maggie had talked both James and Big into checking out the apartment first. Alisha was secretly relieved due to her overactive imagination and the band of hobos she was convinced was trying on her clothes and sleeping in her bed ever since Big had given her the warning. Everything had been completely fine though, and aside from desperately needing to air out the smell of stale smoke, her apartment was just as she'd left it. As a thank you, she'd bought a case of beer and some pizzas and move-in slash cleaning day had turned into an impromptu game night where James and Maggie had been nauseatingly cute cuddled up on her loveseat while she and Big had traded barbs as they sat opposite one another in her living room trying to one up the other on pop culture trivia.

  They were almost friends now, she and Big. Kind of—she thinks. They'd seen each other a couple more times with James and Maggie and had bumped into one another the other afternoon at Whole Foods. (In case you were wondering, yes, it is possible to make frozen foods sound dirty if you're walking around the store with Big.) And while he made it his mission to get under her skin by saying disgusting things, she found now that she was more amused by his overtly sexual innuendos than completely repulsed. Maggie and Russell were still not very subtle in their attempts to hint that she should hookup with Big. In fact, they were about as subtle as an atomic bomb, and her constant insisting that she wasn't interested merely fell on deaf ears.

  Alisha didn't mind making new friends, but in all honesty, she was still smarting over her ex, Gregory, and the broken heart he'd left her with after she'd walked in on him screwing another girl in their bed. It wasn't that she missed Gregory, because she absolutely did not. She knew she was well rid of that asshole and his cheating, lying ways. But the humiliation she'd felt (still felt) had been a very bitter pill to swallow. She hated him for pulling the wool down so far over her eyes and making a fool of her. For making her doubt her best friends when they suspected something strange was going on with him. But above all else, she hated him for charming her and making her love him so much and giving up her heart so completely, because he'd tossed it carelessly back in her face broken, bloody and mangled. She wasn't sure that she'd ever be able to love anyone that freely again and for that she utterly despised him.

  She moved on more every day, but that didn't mean she was a glutton for punishment. Big was undoubtedly sexy and charming, but in a very dangerous way. He was not the kind of guy that would be careful with your heart or even wanted anything to do with your heart in the first place. So it baffled her that her best friends would try and steer her in his direction. At this point in her life, she was content to focus on her career and surround herself with her two amazing best friends. (And maybekindasorta enjoy the almost friendship she was having with the fireman.)

  That Wednesday, she spent her day off the way she normally did getting caught up on chores she tended to neglect throughout the rest of the week and enduring the necessary evil that was trainer Hilda. She'd also gone shopping (not just for bad moods) and had her hair trimmed. Tonight, she planned on vegging out on her sofa and catching up on her recorded shows, very much looking forward to a mini-marathon of The Vampire Diaries and the gorgeous Salvatore brothers. (The fact that she's partial to bad boy Damon means absolutely nothing)

  She slid into an empty seat on the subway and tucked her shopping bags under her feet, pulling out the rest her newspaper to read on the ride home. Flipping to the style section, her heart momentarily stopped, and her mouth went dry as dust. There, in large black and white, was Gregory and his whore smiling out at her announcing their nuptials that took place last Saturday. Mother fucker!

  Alisha kept it together on the subway and during the walk back to her apartment. Once she was inside, she dumped her purchases by the door and walked right back out again. If she stayed there, she'd end up doing something stupid—like feel sorry
for herself or shed tears that didn't need to be shed again.

  Big was having a pretty decent night. It was about to get a whole lot better now that the brown eyed brunette NYU student who'd approached him at Starbucks (his FDNY t-shirt never failed) was on her knees and reaching for his belt. Just as she was easing the zipper of his jeans down, his cell phone rang to life with Alisha's ringtone.

  I love it when you call me big pop-pa

  Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player

  I love it when you call me big pop-pa

  To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies

  He dug into his pocket for his phone and Holli (yeah, with an i…she'd explained that shit thoroughly) looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Maybe he had. Regardless, he flipped open his phone and said, "Larrington—to what do I owe this pleasure?"

  "Hi, Big. Are you busy?"

  Big smirked at her question. Oh, if she only knew. "Nope. What's up?"

  "We're sorta friends now. Aren't we?"

  The hell? "'Course we are, Shorty. You drunk?"

  "Not yet, though I think that is the plan. Want to come have a drink with me?"

  Unexpected, sure, but definitely a welcome surprise. "Sure. Where are you?" She rattled off the name and address of the bar. "Be there in twenty."

  "See you then."

  He shut his phone and quickly stood, zipping his jeans and fastening his belt.

  "What the fuck? You're leaving?" she screeched, scrambling to her feet.

  "Sorry. Something better came along," he said, his tone unapologetic.

  "Drinks with a guy named Shorty?" She grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and hurled it at him.

  Big grabbed his coat off the floor and slipped it on, biting back a laugh. "Something like that." This time he did laugh and had the foresight to duck when she threw the remote at him. Damn, bitch was crazy. "See ya (never)," he called, heading for the door.

  "You…are a fucking asshole!"

  He turned and shrugged. "I've been called worse," he informed her and strolled out of the apartment.