A question knit his brows. “Why would you think that? You think I’m chasing you?”
My eyes widened with embarrassment. “Oh, no, I wasn’t saying…”
“Because I’m not chasing you,” he cut me off. “Not yet, at least.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I was confused by his behavior, unsure if he was attracted to me…or not. Not that he should be. I just liked knowing where I stood.
“Oh,” was all I could manage.
Blaine grinned crookedly, his warm chocolate eyes heating into a smolder. “Screaming orgasm.”
“Huh…what?” I juggled the glass in my hand, almost dropping it.
He chuckled, and I had to admit, it was a fascinating sound. Husky and sexy. He ran a hand through his perfectly unruly hair. “I want a Screaming Orgasm. You do know what those are, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled, assembling the cocktail. Yeah, I knew what they were from prior bartending jobs, but unfortunately I had only experienced them in drink form.
Once the shot was perfectly garnished, despite my slightly shaky hands, I slid the drink over to him. It wasn’t far since he had made it a point to only leave a few inches between us.
Blaine took the tall shot in his hands, appraising it thoroughly, then brought the glass to his mouth and took a small sip, licking his lips afterwards. It gave me full view of that tongue ring, and I felt I could die happy right then and there.
“Mmmm,” he groaned lightly. I had to suck my lips in to stifle my own reaction. He turned to me and held up the glass just inches from my face. “Taste it,” he breathed, the words audible only to me. Before I could take the shot glass from him, he was pressing it to my lips gently, his gaze predatory. As my lips parted, so did his, as if he was guiding the movement. He tilted it back, the sweet-strong mix of vodka and creamy liquor trickling down my throat and warming my chest.
“You like it?” he asked just above a whisper as he brought the glass down, his eyes never leaving mine.
I licked my lips slowly, probably too slow to be considered totally innocent. “Yes.”
“I like it too.” Blaine’s eyes drifted down to my lips and he began running the top row of his teeth along his bottom lip as if he was contemplating whether or not to kiss me. His breathing was just as labored and heavy as mine, anticipation flowing through our veins. This was bad. Very, very bad.
Angel’s jingling laughter ringing throughout the bar doused the heated moment like ice water. We jerked apart and looked sheepishly towards her and Mick as if we had been caught red-handed. Nothing had happened, but for some reason I felt guilty and a little exhilarated. No…a lot exhilarated.
Blaine grabbed the blank application from the bar and handed it to me. “So, um, just fill that out, and someone should give you a call,” he mumbled without looking at me. Then, without further explanation, he turned and disappeared through a door a few feet away.
Mick frowned at Blaine’s retreating back, and the guilt crept back in, making the exhilaration I felt just moments ago go up in a puff of smoke. Of course, he must’ve seen our flirting. Assuming he was the boss, he surely wouldn’t want his bartender canoodling with a potential employee.
I filled out the form, although I didn’t have high hopes of getting the position. I knew that it was definitely for the best. I had vowed to never get involved with a coworker again, and a part of me, a part mostly comprised of hormones, was already very much involved with Blaine.
I chalked up that whole experience as being the last time I would see the scary-beautiful bartender. And that thought bothered me more than it should.
We were just sitting down to eat takeout sushi when our home phone rang. It was odd since hardly anyone called the house. Usually it was reserved for random parental calls which none of us received more than once or twice a month. Angel rolled her eyes and went to grab it, figuring she was due for a judgment-laced talk from Mr. and Mrs. Cassidy. I shot her a sympathetic look when she answered. However, when she paused after her greeting, her brows shot up with excitement—a reaction that would definitely not accompany a call from her parents.
“Guess what, losers?” she giggled, after hanging up with the mystery caller and rejoining us on the couch. “AngelDust just got invited for an exclusive audition at Dive! I guess a ton of other acts were inquiring about the steady weekend slot, so they’re holding live tryouts this Friday. Only two other bands were invited!”
“Oh wow! That’s great, Angel!” I beamed, dropping my chopsticks and giving her a hug. “So, um, that was, um, Blaine or…”
“Oh no, that wasn’t your badass, boy-toy bartender. That was Mick. I’m guessing he runs the place and wanted to invite us personally.”
I fought the frown creeping onto my face. “So…he didn’t want to speak with me? About the job?”
“Oh shit, Kam! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask!” She squeezed my arm in apology before grabbing a tray of edamame. “I’m sure he’ll get around to calling you.”
I nodded, hoping she was right. It had been three days since I applied and, with each passing day, I grew more restless. I knew it was stupid to feel so anxious; I had pretty much written off any opportunity at Dive after my careless flirting with Blaine. Still, I couldn’t deny the fact that I hadn’t stopped thinking of him.
The reality was, I wasn’t the type to act recklessly. I wasn’t impulsive or spontaneous, and I was cautious to a fault. To the point of insanity. I couldn’t risk a wrong turn. I couldn’t do anything to bring undue attention to myself. And to blatantly pursue a guy like Blaine could be dangerous to me and my already delicate rationality.
We had just finished our sushi feast and were sitting cross-legged on the carpet, watching Modern Family when I heard my cell phone ringing a couple feet away. Dom reached over and grabbed it for me while I lounged on the floor, my head nestled in his lap. This was the norm for us. Affection between the three of us was effortless, yet next to impossible with anyone outside our circle.
“Hello?” I answered, chuckling into the phone, my eyes still glued to the screen.
“Hi,” replied a voice dripping with sensuality.
I shot up like someone had lit a match under my ass, smacking Dom in the face in the process. “Hi,” I squeaked.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” His voice was deep, and slightly raspy with just a touch of southern drawl. Just as I had remembered.
“You’re not.” Ok, I said that way too fast. I scrambled to my feet, mouthing a half-hearted apology, and dashed to my room, earning more than a few sideways glances from my roommates.
“I wanted to tell you that you got the job. If you want it.”
“Oh?” There was more than just a trace of surprise in my voice. “Really? Um, wow.”
“You sound shocked.”
“I…I am. I didn’t think… I mean, I only made one drink for you.”
“It was a really good drink,” he replied with a sexy seriousness that made my tummy quiver.
I swallowed the whimper in my throat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So…do you want it?”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” I had to wonder if we were still talking about the bartending position.
“Good.” Blaine was quiet for a long beat, and I imagined him rolling that barbell between his full lips. I listened for the clink of metal against his teeth. “Can you start Wednesday afternoon? I’ll be training you. Is that ok?”
“Sounds good.” More than good. “Anything else I should know? What should I wear?”
“We’ve got t-shirts with Dive’s logo on it. I’ll give you a few. Anything for the bottom. Except, um, skirts.”
“Oh. Are skirts against the dress code policy?”
I heard him suck in a breath. “No. They are just very…distracting. On you. You distract me.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Oh, hell. I was flirting. No, no, no. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Not when it came to him.
“Depends.”
/> “Depends?” I said in my best innocently naughty voice.
“If I distract you too.”
I didn’t know how to respond, and the growing silence was shifting from nervous to awkward. Of course he distracted me. He had distracted my thoughts ever since I walked into Dive teary-eyed and mournful three weeks ago. But there was no way I could tell him that.
“Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Yeah. Goodnight, Kami.”
“Goodnight, Blaine.”
I held the phone to my chest after swiping the OFF button, then looked up to find a smirking Angel leaning against my doorframe. I was so busted.
“So, Kami, how have you been since our last visit?”
I nodded, fidgeting with a loose thread on my tank top. “Good.”
“Good? So no irrational fears or meltdowns?”
I frowned at the grey-clad psychiatrist sitting across from me. Good shrinks were so hard to find, and this was my third since moving to Charlotte. I felt like I could do without them, but Dom was insistent to the point of demanding.
“Why do my fears need to be irrational?” I snapped.
Dr. Evelyn Cole raised a brow and scribbled a note on her pad. “Do you think your fears are rational?”
“I think they’re understandable considering…I’m not saying they’re altogether healthy, but I don’t think they are irrational. I don’t put anyone in danger with them.”
Dr. Cole scribbled another note. “You don’t put yourself in danger?”
I looked at her incredulously. “Of course not. If anything, I am careful to a fault.”
“By isolating yourself.”
“I don’t isolate myself. I just keep a certain distance from people in order to remain…safe. There are things people do not need to know about me. If they did, I’d be alone anyway.”
“And Kenneth? Is that why you broke it off with him? Because he was getting too close?”
“Kenneth let himself fall for someone who is incapable of love. I told him not to. I warned him that I couldn’t get serious with him or anybody else. He wanted more of me than I was willing to give. More than I can give him or anybody else.”
Dr. Cole chewed the end of her pen and puckered her brows. “And you think by holding back, by making yourself emotionally unavailable, that you are protecting yourself? That your…episodes won’t be an issue?”
“That’s exactly what I am doing,” I murmured, yanking the thread on my shirt and snapping it. I took a deep breath and dropped my chin to my chest. “If Kenneth knew just how damaged I really am, just how neurotic my past has made me, he wouldn’t stay. He’d call me crazy and abandon me. And he’d be justified to do so. I am doing him a favor. He doesn’t need someone like me bogging him down with a laundry list of issues.”
“And how do you know he’ll run? How do you know he won’t stay with you in spite of your fears?”
I looked the psychiatrist dead in her eyes with all the conviction I could muster. “Well…that’s the one risk I am willing to take.”
After leaving my weekly appointment, I headed straight to Dive for my first day of training. Of course, this wasn’t a coincidence. I had purposely scheduled my visit with the good doctor to precede my first day of work to help combat the anxiety. But once I spied the marquee as I pulled into the parking lot, I felt ill. Clammy palms, mouth as dry as sand and heartbeat heading into dangerous territory.
“Oh no, not here. Not now. I can do this. I have to do this.” But even my inner monologue wasn’t convincing.
I counted down from ten, desperately trying to psyche myself up enough to leave the safety of my vehicle. I had worked plenty of jobs before without severe incident. I had played the role of a normal, sane young woman for many years and had succeeded for the most part. There had been hiccups. There had been roadblocks. But I survived them. I had my friends to help me get by one day at a time. Things were fine.
Right?
So why the hell was I freaking out inside my car in 100 degree heat over a certain inked bartender that gave me goose bumps whenever I simply thought of his name?
Blaine.
God, why couldn’t he have been named something less sexy? Like Mortimer? Or Buford? Because for a name like Blaine to be attached to someone as gorgeous as that scary-beautiful man was downright cruel.
Dammit, I should have done 20.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and took a series of calming breaths to slow my heart rate. I knew I was being ridiculous. This was just a guy. Nothing was special or different about him. He represented something that I could never have: a serious relationship, companionship, trust…love. I had to keep reminding myself of that fact. Blaine needed to remain at a distance, especially now that we would be working together.
I made my way into the bar, greeted by the soft sounds of classic rock playing over the sound system. A cozy, familiar feeling filled me, comforting my nerves. I really did like it here. Maybe it was nostalgia from the music paraphernalia adorning the walls. Or maybe it was the faint smells of lemon-scented wood polish and crispy-fried comfort food from the bar’s kitchen. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the man behind the bar, grinning at me in a way that made his chocolate-brown eyes look like warm pools of decadence. Whatever it was, whatever made my head swim with uncertainty, it didn’t keep me from smiling back at him.
“Hey, roadrunner. Good to see you again,” Blaine said on my approach. He gripped the edge of the bar and leaned forward like he always seemed to do. I didn’t know if it was out of habit or if he was discreetly stretching. I knew how standing on your feet for 8+ hours could wreak havoc on your back.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes playfully. “Dude, you really gotta quit calling me that.”
He crooked a knowing smile and narrowed his eyes at me. “Why? Are you done running?”
Running? Was I done?
“Nobody’s running, Blaine. I’m here, aren’t I?” I replied in a small, yet confident voice. I wanted it to be true. Oh God, how I wanted it to be true.
Silence filled the space between us, muting the lunch crowd chatter and background music. His gaze never left mine. The way he looked at me put me oddly at ease considering the intensity of his stare. He had the eyes of a man that had seen things. Eyes that were soulful and wise, yet vibrant and sultry. Eyes that made me want to run away, yet urged me to stay.
The subtle movement of his mouth working over the barbell threaded through his tongue was enough to distract my thoughts and focus on the task at hand. Work. I was here to work.
“So…where do you want me?” I sputtered without thinking. “I mean…do you want me behind the bar or, um, uh… Should we get started?”
Blaine chuckled, throwing his head back. When his eyes returned to mine, they were playful and full of mischief. “Sure, Kami. I want you back here with me.”
I couldn’t help but inwardly scoff at his choice of words. Then again, mine were just as cringe-worthy. I needed to put my game face on. Playtime was over. This…whatever it was…was over. It had to be. I had let too much of myself peek out from beneath the mask I wore for the general public. A mask that had only been penetrated by the two people I shared a home and any semblance of a life with. Blaine wasn’t one of those people. He would never be one of those people. And if he knew the real me, not the person who pretended to be sane enough just to get by, he wouldn’t want to be.
I squared my shoulders and stood next to him, careful to keep a bit of distance between our bodies. That seemed like the right thing to do. The safe thing to do.
Assessing the space between us and my unreadable, stoic expression, Blaine frowned. “What? Something wrong?”
Nothing was wrong with him. Not a single damn thing. It was me. It was always me.
I shook my head, mentally fixing my mask back into place. “No, Blaine. But I came here to work, remember? And you’re here to train me. So maybe we should focus on that.”
I could see his tongue rolling t
he metal inside his mouth, successfully thawing my cold glare and warming the space between my thighs. Shit. I was still here. The real me was still in this moment. With him.
ShitShitShit.
It was going to be a long day.
You ever get that feeling in your gut that something is about to happen? Something…big? Life-changing even? Something that would not only rock your world right off its axis but flip it upside down and shake the shit out of it? Yeah, I totally got that about three weeks ago.
I should’ve known the first time she came tearing into the parking lot. The first sign? She had been crying. Not drama queen, full on sobbing, but there were definitely tears. I had been just about to duck back in after a much needed break, when the screech of her tires caught my attention.
I froze.
Hell, there was no way my legs could take another step. Even with mascara smeared under her watery eyes, I could tell she was beautiful, and I think that fact made it even harder for me to turn away. I wanted to ask her what was wrong and wipe away every tear. I know it was absurd of me to want that. Shit, it was downright creepy. But she looked so…sad. And alone. And maybe even afraid. Like whatever it was that she had just run away from was bound to show up any second and drag her back to the hell she had just escaped.
After a brief chat on her cell, I watched the internal battle play across her features as she tried to get her emotions in check. That should’ve been my chance to escape. I could turn away from her and let her deal with her own misery. I had enough of my own and I’d be damned if I’d take on someone else.
But I didn’t turn away. I didn’t abandon the hellish North Carolina summer for the air-conditioned sanctuary of the bar. Nope. I took a step forward. Toward her.
She began fixing her makeup, and I could have sworn she was talking to herself. That should have been a huge red flag that this chick was bat-shit crazy. I had dealt with more crazy broads to last a lifetime, and I wasn’t looking to pick up another. Not that I felt like I needed her in my life. No… definitely not.
But I continued to walk towards her. I had no clue what I would say or do, but I knew that I had to say or do something. Anything to erase the pain that she so clearly shouldered. But before I could—before I could do something stupid in an attempt to make it all better—her car door swung open, and I ducked back under the shade of the building before she could misconstrue my intent.
Fear of Falling Page 4