by Amy L. Gale
I rush to the door and swing it open. Okay, so I’m acting a little more frantic than I would’ve liked, but I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t coming out.
“Whoa, is the apartment on fire?” Tyler leans against the door jam.
It might burst into flames now. “Sorry, I was running late, and I’m still in frantic beast mode.”
“Hope there’s a full moon tonight.” He winks.
“Be careful what you wish for.” Oh God, here I go again. If I keep this up, he’s going to expect a repeat of the first time we met. I’ve got to convince him I’m not “that” kind of girl.
I grab my purse and step outside. “Ready?”
The question is, am I ready for this? Technically, this is the third time we’re in each other’s company, so we’re pretty much dating at this point. I’ve gone from, should I bother getting involved with Tyler, to how can I keep from screwing this up.
“I’m always locked and loaded, Babe.” He holds out his hand to take mine.
I slide my fingers in between his. An abundance of tingles sweep through my body. The feeling scares the crap out of me. Why am I dying for it to last forever?
We head down the steps to his red Camaro, the metallic specks of paint glisten in the dimming sunlight.
“You know which one it is, right?” He nudges my arm.
“Funny.” I guess I’m never living that one down.
He holds open the passenger door, and I slide into the leather seat. The small town Kansas boy always peeks through the rocker façade. He’s got that gentleman charm you don’t always find with guys in big cities, especially with rock stars.
He jumps into the driver’s seat and fires up the engine. He pulls out a few CDs from the center console. “We’re going old school tonight. Lady’s choice.” He hands me the stack. “Choose wisely.”
“I always do.” If that were even remotely true, I’d have far fewer regrets.
I’m used to satellite radio and iPods, it’s been ages since I played a CD, especially in a car. Why does this feel like a test? I peruse the choices and stop at a band I loved since high school. “Here ya go.”
“Foo Fighters, nice.” He slides the CD into the player and turns up the volume. Everlong blasts through the speakers. “You’ve gained the prestigious privilege of choosing all tunes.”
I put my hand to my chest and make my best oh-my-God-I-just-won-an-Oscar face. “I’m honored. Do I get a trophy to commemorate the occasion?”
He flashes a half-smile and digs in the center console. “Here you are, the golden guitar pick.”
He’s got the best sense of humor. The guys I meet at work, or any of the magazine’s executives seem to lack the humor gene. Maybe it’s a rare find nowadays. Tyler is definitely one of a kind. Not another person on earth comes even remotely close to him.
“I’ll treasure it forever.” I smile and slide the pick into my purse.
It’s going in my shadow box with the ticket stubs from the first concert I attended, Aerosmith, and the dried rose from the corsage Josh bought me on senior prom. I take a deep breath. Tonight is about fun, no need to dredge up the past.
I sit back and let the warm breeze blow through my hair. The bright lights of the city are slowly lighting up the horizon as the sun sets. Purple and pink hues as far as the eye can see, very picturesque.
Well, we just passed the last exit to downtown, so we’re clearly not eating at one of the city’s trendy spots. “Are we off to a deserted island?”
“I’m taking you to the depths of my world.” He winks.
Hmm, intriguing but creepy, in a serial killer, stalker kind of way. I can see the headlines now, Reporter slain after dating disgruntled bass player. Of course, my mind wanders to the worst possible scenario. I know Tyler better than that. What does he have planned? Maybe he’s secretly a vampire and about to take me to his lair.
“Should I get ready to have my whole world rocked?” I smirk.
“Every second you’re with me, babe.”
Butterflies flutter in my stomach. If anyone else in the world said that to me, I’d laugh in their face. Tyler has the power to change my outlook on everything.
“What are you waiting for?”
He moves his hand over to my thigh, caressing my skin with his thumb. “We’re almost there.”
At this point I don’t care where we’re going, he can drive off to the middle of the desert, and I’d be happy. Seclusion might be the best date ever. Tyler and me away from the rest of the world for a while.
He pulls onto a dimly-lit road lined with tall grass and an unkempt sidewalk. Salty air floats along my skin. No matter what coast, the scent of the ocean is always the same, salty with a hint of freshness unmatched by anything else. Guess it’s just one of the many mysteries of the universe. It brings me back home instantly.
He slowly slides his hand away, sending my body into overdrive. I fidget with my fingers, trying to compose myself. I focus on a small cabana-style restaurant up ahead. Colored lights hang from the orange pavilion and round, picnic tables for two line the boardwalk floor.
Tyler pulls into a parking spot at the edge of the sand and turns down the engine. The crash of waves and faint song of the seagull fill the air. It’s quaint and secluded. Only a few other couples sip on drinks on the patio.
“How can you possibly find all these hidden gems when you’re in L.A.?”
“Surfer’s secret.” He walks around to the passenger side and holds open my door.
I stare at the tiger on his arm, dancing with every movement. Whoever placed that tattoo knew exactly what they were doing. I’m mesmerized. I step out of the car.
“Maybe I should hang-ten with you sometime.” God, do surfers even say that? I probably sound like an idiot.
He flashes a half smile. “Anytime, babe.” He pushes the door shut and places his hand in the small of my back. “Ever have sex on the boardwalk?”
That’s random and really weird. “Umm, no.” And if I did there’s no way in hell I’d be sharing the story, especially on a date.
“I think you’ll like it.”
I stop and fold my arms. “Excuse me?” Am I on a date with Tyler or Chaz?
He holds up his hands. “It’s the signature drink here.” He smirks. “Unless you wanted something else.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks. “I can definitely use a drink.”
We make our way up the few steps to the wooden floor. A blonde, probably around eighteen years old, hops over like she’s running on the beach in slow motion. I guess she’s our waitress.
“Hey Ty, you’re back in town. Want the usual table?”
He nods. “Thanks, Trixie.”
How many usual places can a person who doesn’t even live here have?
“You really get around when you visit. Maybe I should hire you as a tour guide.” I slide into the seat overlooking the ocean.
“All you’ve got to do is stop for a minute and take a look at what’s right in front of you.”
Firecrackers spread across my skin. I lean forward and prop my hand on my chin. “Sometimes it’s the most amazing view.” Where the hell did that come from? I sit up, willing the filter between my brain and my mouth to regain function.
Tyler runs a hand through his hair. Bright crimson rushes along his cheeks.
Oh my God, I made the rock star blush. Looks like I can cross that off my bucket list. He’s right though, so many people neglect to take in the moment, and they let it pass them by. One thing I vow to never do again.
“Do you know what you want?” Trixie smiles, tapping a pen against her lip.
Right now I want to jump across this table and tackle Tyler on the sand. I get it, I’ve already had my hands on the Golden Fleece, but half of the night erased itself from my mind. Was I really that wasted or was it self-defense?
“Key lime tortilla crusted chicken is our house specialty.” Trixie breaks the silence.
“Sounds great to me. House specials are a
lways the best.”
“Me too.” Tyler winks. “And we both want Sex on the Boardwalk”.
Trixie giggles like a 1950’s teen who just saw Elvis. She scurries off to the bar.
I raise an eyebrow. “One of your groupies?”
He snickers. “Jealous?”
Is he serious? Just because Trixie has a name reserved for a stripper and thinks she can bring guys to their knees by batting an eyelash. Hell no. And I have absolutely no reason to be concerned about who flirts with Tyler. It’s not like he’s mine… not yet. Oh my God, what am I thinking? The last thing I need right now is a guy… especially a rock star with an entourage.
“Not my style.” I tap my fingers on the table top. I’ve got to tone down the conversation. It’s gone from let’s rip off our clothes to is she flirting with you? “Really, how did you find this place?”
“I met two local guys, Logan and Gavin when I decided I’d buy a board and instantly be able to surf.” He chuckles. “Yeah, didn’t work out so well. They taught me everything there is to know about surfing, and I instantly fell in love.”
“Hmm, with which one?” I smirk.
“Funny.” He runs a hand through his hair. “With the ocean, the waves, the way I feel when that board glides against the wave.” A half smile graces his face. “It’s like the moment when the lights shine down on stage, and I’m in another world. In charge of my destiny for a brief time, nothing in the world comes close.”
I stare into his blue eyes, mesmerized. In another hour I’ll be giggling like Trixie. “Sounds incredible. I’d probably wouldn’t even be able to stand up on the board.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not about that. It’s about enjoying the ride.”
Trixie comes back with two mammoth drinks in a glass that looks more like a fishbowl than a cocktail. Two umbrellas hang out of the side along with a gummy crab. If I finish this, I might forget yet another date with Tyler. I’ve got to pace myself.
“This looks intense.” I pull the twisty straw to my lips.
“That’s the way I roll, babe.” He gulps the drink.
“Anyway, Gavin used to date Trixie so he took us here for drinks after a day of surfing. I’ve met a bunch of other surfers through them. Been coming here every time I’m in town ever since.”
I sip the fruity concoction. It burns my mouth as it passes through. Not a good sign. “Do you surf with Gavin and Logan when you’re in L.A.?”
He grabs the back of his neck. “Nah, we had a little misunderstanding about a girl who happened to be Logan’s sister. Not my proudest moment.”
Of course, it’s about a girl. “Spare me the gritty details.” Okay, so this was probably years ago, and I’m sure Tyler has matured since then but why would he risk screwing up a friendship over hooking up? Especially when Gavin and Logan introduced him to something he loved. I thought surfers had some kind of unwritten “guy code”.
Trixie slides our dinners in front of us. “Hope you enjoy them.” She smiles at Tyler, then turns away.
“What about you?” He stabs a forkful of chicken and pops it in his mouth.
“You know I’m a new reporter, haven’t been in L.A. that long. Trying to build my career. Listen to kick ass music. What else do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
“Not much else to tell.” I slug my drink through the straw like I’ve just emerged from months in a desert. Maybe the alcohol will calm my nerves.
“Mysterious… You on the run from the law?”
“Something like that.” I flash a meek smile. I’m making myself sound worse. God knows what crazy thoughts are running through his head right now. I’ve got to explain, at least a little. “You know I’m from Seamist, Maine. Small town, nothing there for me anymore.”
He nods. “I get it, being stuck in bumblefuck anywhere sucks. Would you believe I played football? Not good enough for a ticket out but I escaped anyway.”
I chuckle. “I was a Seamist Tigers cheerleader.” Oh boy, the alcohol is kicking in. God knows what’s about to slip out of my mouth.
“You’re hot. I can totally see you at the top of the pyramid. Let me guess, you dated the quarterback?” He chomps on another bite of chicken.
“Guilty.” I chow down on my dinner, letting the flavor of the crunchy lime chicken flow across my tongue. “This is delicious.”
“Wait until dessert.” Tyler finishes his last bite. “So where’s this quarterback now? He’s not going to show up here and try and kick my ass is he?” He laughs.
I drop my fork. Josh never had to be jealous. I only wanted him, and no other man existed in my world. I take a deep breath trying to blow off the question. Where the hell’s the waitress, I need another drink.
“Hey, you okay?” Tyler reaches for my hand.
“Yeah.” I slug the rest of my drink. “The quarterback passed away senior year… car accident.”
“Wow, that sucks. I’m really sorry.” He runs his thumb along my fingers.
I lift my head. “Ancient history… Now, tell me about this amazing dessert.” Thank God the water works didn’t turn on. Crying definitely puts the damper on a date.
“Ah. Named after us.”
“Ali and Tyler dessert?” It wouldn’t shock me if he got the restaurant to let him name a dessert. Especially if it’s owned by a female.
“Hot Blondies.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Sounds perfect.” I guess I kind of took the cowards way out when it came to talking about Josh. Once you tell someone he passed away they never ask anything else. No one seems to care about what he was like or what we had together. They’re always more interested in his death than in his life. Guess I’m still bitter about the way the town acted.
“Hey, Trix, two hot blondies,” Tyler yells across the restaurant to our waitress Trixie.
She waves.
“So what’s on your agenda next? I mean after the record is finished. You plan on buying a house in every country?”
“Hell no. We’re going on tour to promote the album in a few months. I rent a place when I’m here in L.A. I bought a place in Silent Springs right after we started seeing some cash. Now I only go there for family holidays and when I need a place to crash. I don’t want to be stuck anywhere.”
“Doomed to wander the earth for eternity.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He crinkles his brow.
Trixie interrupts, setting the biggest blondie I’ve ever seen in front of me. The mound of ice cream on top wobbles as she slides the plate. “Here ya go, white chocolate blondies with lemon cream.” She scurries to another table.
I think this restaurant is located somewhere in heaven. Maybe Tyler missed his calling. He’d be an amazing food critic.
“It all depends on your perspective.” I shovel a spoonful into my mouth. They should rename this Better Than Sex. I moan, louder than I’d hoped.
“Told you I’d rock your world.” He shoves half the blondie into his mouth in one scoop.
“You delivered.” I smile.
He kept his word on everything he’s told me so far. I just can’t figure out his intentions. Is he looking for a friend to hang out with while he’s in L.A., does he feels bad for the way things went down with Jenna, does he want us to be more than friends? I’m definitely not at the point where I can ask.
The melodic tones of a steel drum band flow through the air, harmonizing with the crashing waves. I’ve always wanted to vacation at an island. In fact, the future honeymoon I planned in my head takes place on Caribbean island, complete with palm trees, frozen drinks, and a hammock for two. I sway in my chair, losing myself for a second.
“Let’s dance. I’ve got moves like Jagger.” He stands and holds out his hand.
“I bet.” I take his hand and follow him to the wooden dance area in front of the band. “I have the moves of an off balance sloth.”
“We both know that’s not true.” He pulls me close.
Fire scorches
my face. It must be a million shades of scarlet. Last time I danced in public was three years ago at my cousin’s wedding with one of the groomsmen who had trouble keeping his hands to himself. Luckily that’s not an issue this time. As far as I’m concerned, Tyler can put his hands anywhere he wants.
Tyler sweeps me across the dance floor like we’re floating. He stares into my eyes like we’re the only two people in the world. Right now, we are. I press my forehead against his and slow things down, swaying to the beat. Tyler holds me closer. Nothing can come between us at this moment.
For the first time in forever, I’m safe. His strong arms keep the rest of the world at bay. I close my eyes and lean forward, brushing my lips against his. He slides his tongue along my lip and pulls me into an amazing kiss. Oh my God, I kissed him. I’ve never kissed a guy first in my life. What is wrong with me? I can always blame it on the drink. Now I’ll never know how he thinks of me. Does he just want another one-nighter? We hook-up while we’re together and then he does God knows what when we’re not?
He pulls away, sucking my bottom lip. “See, you’ve got moves.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder. What can I say at this point? If I start asking the questions plaguing my mind, I’ll sound like a psycho and ruin our date. No reason to put the cart before the horse. I’m going with the flow and not worrying about anything. It seems to work for Tyler.
If I want to avoid any other uncomfortable situations, I need to get my hands off him. “Wanna hit the beach?”
He pulls away. “You read my mind. Let me take care of the bill quick and don’t argue. You know I’m old-fashioned.”
“Yep, just like Humphrey Bogart.”
“Here’s lookin’ at you, kid.” He winks and pulls his wallet out of his jeans.
My heart erupts into a frenzy of radical beats. And he knows Casablanca, too. Tyler surprises me every second we spend together. It’s like a blessing and a curse. I meet someone who brings out things in me I haven’t felt in years, but he doesn’t want to settle down, ever. What the hell, I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.