Silver Edge

by Ciara Knight

  I rested my head against his chest. It wasn’t promiscuous if I wanted to be with him and only him, was it? “We spent the night together, and I didn’t kill you in my sleep. That has to mean something. Maybe we can do this.”

  “Trust me, someday I want to take you and not stop until we’re both spent. I don’t care if it’s here or in the middle of the damn park, but not our first time. I won’t be one of those guys that you fuck then run away from. I don’t want that. I want more.”

  The heat covering my body turned to a shiver. “So, you’re saying no?”

  He sighed. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I want to be inside you so bad right now I think I’m going to die if I don’t have you.” He pulled me tight against him and I could tell from his need for yet another cold shower that he spoke the truth. “You’re the only thing I can think about since that first moment I met you in the restaurant. And that music. Your music. It gets to me. It’s like your voice is calling my body to you. You touch something inside me that I can’t explain. I feel alive for the first time in over a year, and it’s amazing. That’s why I won’t take you like this. I won’t be just another guy to you. I want to be the guy. The one that treats you the right way.”

  I pulled from his embrace, a sense of shame filling me as if I’d just woken from a bender in a rundown building. Spinning to leave, I caught my foot on the guitar stand. I tripped, but he caught me. The sound echoed, startling me, and I shoved from his arms. “It’s fine. No big deal.”

  “Scarlet, please don’t be mad. I just need to know we have more between us than physical attraction before we sleep together.”

  I froze, a realization coming over me. “So, it’s not just about you taking it slow for me? You need more between us?”

  He sighed again. “I’m not explaining myself well. This is my fault. I came on to you, so there’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about.”

  “I’m not embarrassed.” The prickling of heat along my skin said otherwise. Before he could stop me, I darted past him, but he followed me down the stage steps to the dance floor.

  “Listen to me, please.” He grabbed my arm and warning bells sounded in my head, causing me to jerk from his arms.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you. Just stop.” He raced in front of me, hands up in the air. “I’ve been with women.”

  “Yes, we both know you were a super stud with a fancy car and bimbos were beating down your damn door. So go be with them if you want more.”

  “You’re not being fair. I’ve only known you a short time.”

  “Sometimes it only takes a look.” I spit his grandmother’s words back in his face. “What are you scared of, Drake? You make me confess all my dark secrets and claim you told me yours, but what’s really holding you back? And don’t use me as an excuse any longer.”

  “I don’t know.” He raked his hand through his hair.

  “You think I’m gonna deck you? Kick you in the groin? What?”

  “What if I hurt you? You’ve been hurt so much. I don’t want to make a mistake and lose you forever.”

  My chest tightened. I lifted my hand to try to relieve the pressure, but it remained. An achy, sick feeling grumbled in my belly and I wanted to just collapse on the floor. I was so tired. So tired of all these new emotions wreaking havoc on my head, my heart. “You think I’m broken.”

  “No. I mean. What if you’re looking for another release and then you’re gone? Gone in the night like the rest of my family.” He looked down at me, his eyes softened, dark, lost.

  “Listen, I need to go check on my stuff. I’ll see you later.” With all the energy I had left in my body, I shuffled toward the side door.

  “I thought you promised not to run,” Drake called after me. “You said you wanted the truth, but now you want to leave?”

  I rested my hand on the knob. “I don’t know what you want from me. You said you needed me to try to let you touch me, so I did.” Something inside forced me to spin around and face him. “Then you tell me you want me to try cuddling through the night. You tell me how you’re holding back because I need space, but the truth is you need space.”

  “Every time I touch you, you’re still tense. I don’t want it to be that way.”

  “You said you could handle it if I communicated. I’ve done everything you told me was normal in a relationship, but it’s still not enough.”

  “You’re enough for me. I love having you here and working with me. You’re sexy and interesting and special.”

  “But you think I’m not capable of sex beyond a quickie and gone. You say you want me, but…” I threw my arms up in defeat, but I didn’t know why. Why was I attacking him when I worried the same thing?

  Drake shook his head. “I can’t seem to be in the same room with you without wanting to rip your clothes off.” He laughed, but I didn’t think it was funny.

  “You don’t want me to run, but you don’t want to be alone with me, either. I don’t think I’m the one with issues.”

  Drake let out a long breath. “You’re right. Maybe I’ve been hiding behind your issues instead of facing my own. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to get hurt. Can we just keep trying?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the far wall in the darkened corner, wishing I was back in my warehouse alone. “So what do we do, Einstein?”

  Drake trotted to the stairs. “Stay there. Don’t leave.”

  The moment he disappeared upstairs, I stepped outside to cool off and take a minute to myself. My head spun and I looked toward the park at the few skaters braving the unseasonably cold fall weather. It would be so easy to bolt.

  But for some reason, I stayed.

  Chapter Twenty

  It took an hour, but Drake coaxed me back inside with a promise that we were just having a “bump in the road” and had me sit in his office while he made coffee. To my relief, he’d left stacks of spreadsheets, posters, CDs, and a bunch of other stuff in file boxes around his office. If I couldn’t sing or run, at least I had math and organization to get my mind off things.

  He returned with a mug in hand and slid the box away from me. I grabbed it again and gave him the Scary Scarlet eye. “Take that box from me and I will slug you.”

  With hooded eyes, he sat by my side but didn’t dare touch me. “I know this is tough on you, but you need to trust me. That’s why I stopped. I don’t want you to ever lose faith in me. You’re the first person I’ve met in a long time that looks at me as if I’m worth something more than a big paycheck or arm candy.”

  I inhaled the rich coffee aroma to keep the scent of Drake’s cologne at bay. It irked me that I still wanted to be close enough to smell him even after his rejection. A car door slammed outside and I stiffened.

  “Don’t worry. That’s just our chaperone. I figured I could control myself if we had someone else around. Besides, we need Walter’s help.”

  Drake darted from the room, so I ignored his words and took a gulp of warm coffee bliss before returning to my spreadsheet, hoping the combination of caffeine and numbers would soothe my nerves and abate my headache. But still, I couldn’t focus.

  I found an old photo album and thumbed through it. There were images of a Drake look-alike but younger, with lighter hair and a little shorter. His hair was spiked and he wore a black wristband with spikes. It had to be his brother. Flipping farther, I saw Drake, his brother, and what had to be his parents standing in front of Bands. They looked happy together, like a real family. It had to have been tough losing them all at once. Was that why Drake couldn’t be with me? Was he as broken as me?

  Drake returned, dropped some fliers on the desk, then stood for a moment at a no touching distance. His lips drooped and he sat by my side, tracing the outline of the image.

  “That was the day he bought this place. He was so happy. My parents were proud he’d finally found an outlet that would allow him to create some cash flow as well. It did seem to be a dre
am come true for him. That’s what he was, a dreamer.” A hint of admiration sounded in Drake’s voice.

  Hawaiian strutted into the office, his flamboyant shirt and smile instantly chasing away the gloom. “Hey, Einstein. I hear we got to take a walk through town, hand some flyers out.”

  I eyed the fliers sitting on the table. “These? They look ordinary. We need something to let people know it’s not just another Battle of the Bands. We need to make it feel like it’s a big secret, that only the best bands are invited and that it’s gonna be a kickass original event. That’s the only way talent will show.”

  Drake scratched the top of his head. “Besides the fliers, I’ve also got a demo app on the website. Groups can upload samples, share links. I’m going to set up voting for the top bands for the line-up on the website as well. They’ll get premium time to audition. Come closing time, the last band is done even if there’s still a line out the door. With the limited number of entries allowed, it’ll get people competing just to audition.”

  Numbers flew through my head. It just might work. I stood and walked over to his desk, an equation of estimating people twenty-one and over, considering mass capacity, multiplied by the number of drinks per person. “We’ll need more booze. I was looking over your food markup verses the sales, and your profit margin is really low. I’d cut your kitchen to just salty snacks and drinks.”

  “We need upfront cash, then.” Drake paced the room. “We can charge an entry fee to the contest. Also, we’ll sell advanced tickets for the mosh pit and up the normal ticket prices. People will pay to see this if we make them believe it’s going to be epic. But we’ll need to sell a lot of tickets fast.”

  My brain churned with energy and caffeine. “What if you didn’t need alcohol?”

  Drake shook his head. “I need alcohol in order to make money.”

  “You said I need to trust you. Well, here’s your chance to trust me. I’ll get this house packed, but you won’t need any alcohol. I’ve got a plan that just might save this place.”

  Hawaiian looked between us. “You guys going too fast. Just tell me where to go and I’ll hand out fliers. Beyond that, I’m useless for ninja calculations or salesman mumbo-jumbo.”

  I nodded. “Don’t worry. I just need an escort and your winning personality. I tell you what to say, but you do the talking.”

  Hawaiian wiped his brow in mock relief and headed for the door. “That’s a deal. Where you want to start?”

  “First, Drake, we need to advertise this as an Edge Fest. We’ll have bands from all over the country battle for a chance to be heard. Can you sell your promoter on a Straight Edge band? He can spin it for publicity on his label, too.”

  Drake shrugged. “I can sell him on anything. That’s the one thing I’m good at.”

  “Let’s head to the coffee shop. I have an idea. Drake, you handle the social media and all the business stuff. I’ll get the crowd here. Put up your app, but make sure it has Straight Edge on it.” I ran upstairs and snagged my hoodie from the couch in his bedroom, trying to ignore the memories of him holding me last night. It was all just a dream and now I needed to deal with reality. I wanted this place to stay open for my own selfish reasons. The thought of spending my days listening to music and making a living on my own, not needing someone else to take care of me, kept me planted instead of running off. It was time to stop running.

  I took the stairs two at a time and launched out the back door, waving for Hawaiian to follow. His old pickup sat out front, and I hopped in, knowing he wasn’t about to agree to walk over. The smells from Chinese, Pacific Island, and fast food burger joints battled for my attention. The mixture made my stomach flop in protest, but I managed to keep it from tossing my breakfast of coffee.

  “You think you guys can pull this off?” Hawaiian asked as he drove. “Drake’s been struggling a long time with this place. I thought he was about to turn it over to rich bitch’s daddy to tear down. It broke my heart remembering his brother and how excited he was when the place opened.”

  “You knew his brother?” I asked, holding on to the oh-shit handle as he hopped a curb and sent me a few inches off the seat.

  “Yeah, he’s the one who gave me my job. I was here when Drake showed up after the funeral. I was packin’ things up and he walked to the center of the large room and stopped. He stood there for several minutes then turned to me and told me to unpack. He said he couldn’t let his brother down again.” Hawaiian stopped abruptly in front of the café then jerked the gearshift into reverse.

  I gripped the oh-shit handle tighter to keep from flying through the windshield. “You think he’ll ever be better? I mean, you think he can’t move on now ’cause he lost so much?”

  He backed into a parking spot then killed the engine. “I’d say that’s possible, but then you walked into his life and his eyes lit up for the first time since I’d met him. Boss man changed the moment you demanded he hire you.”

  I shoved the door open, relieved to escape the strong odors of day-old food. The dreary fall drizzle had returned, but it didn’t slow us down.

  Hawaiian held the coffee shop’s door open for me the way Drake had done on our date, but I knew he didn’t mean it that way. He was just being a gentleman. “I know something’s happening between you two and I think it’s good. You make Boss happy, and you seem less tense yourself.”

  We slipped inside and I zeroed in on the rich aroma of coffee, managing to keep my nerves in check despite the high-pitched sound of the milk steamer. The place was pretty empty, only a few people seated at the tables. As I had hoped, I saw the girl behind the counter with the snake tattoo and waved. I leaned over the counter near the register and eyed her Straight Edge mark. “Nice,” I said, showing her my wrist.

  She nodded. “I saw you around the other day. You been in Atlanta long?”

  I shook my head. “Almost a month, but I’ve landed a killer job over at this place called Bands.”

  Her tongue slipped out, playing with the ring through her lip. “I went there once. It’s got a cool vibe. Terrible name and talent, though.”

  “Yeah, I agree, but we’re doing something epic there at the end of the month. You know any good Straight Edge bands? I’d love to score some great talent for an Edge Fest. There’ll be a battle for a contract with a major label. If nothing else, the gig’ll provide bands an opportunity to be noticed.”

  She tossed her hair back then eyed the corner. “Those guys over there know a few. Some of them are Straight Edge. I think the tall guy is part of a pop-punk band that’s been touring. Has a good cult following but hasn’t been discovered yet. The shorter guy is in a metal band, pretty heavy stuff. I’m sure between the two of them they can help you out.”

  “Thanks.” I snagged a marker from a cup by the register and wrote Edge Fest across the top of one of the fliers and handed it to her. “Would you mind putting this up?”

  She looked it over. “Sure. I’ll even mention it to a few of my friends. Good luck.”

  I thanked her then headed over to the group of guys. It would be up to me to sell this, not Hawaiian. Stopping at one of the empty tables, I set the fliers down then turned to Hawaiian. “Hey, there are a ton of stores around here that cater to the art community, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s one of the reasons Devon chose this location for Bands.”

  “Can you write Edge Fest across the top of these and distribute them? Meet me here when you’re done.”

  “Sure.” He took the marker and a stack of fliers and disappeared out the door.

  One of the guys with large gauges in his ears waved me over. “What’s up? You look like you’re lost or something.”

  “No, I was hoping to talk to you. The girl behind the counter said you guys were in a band. A pop-punk band and a death metal band.”

  The tall guy nodded at the shorter one. “He’s in a death metal band, but I’m not in any. Why?”

  I steadied my hands and forced my eyes to scan each of them. “The
re’s gonna be an Edge Fest over at a venue close by and there’ll be two big producers there who’ll be judging the competition on November fifteenth. You can show up that night and play, but the slots are limited. Or you can submit something beforehand for a guaranteed place.”

  “What time?” the short guy asked. “Two of my guys are out of town, but they’re due back Friday afternoon. I can chat with them then.”

  I clutched the back of one of the chairs and squeezed, willing myself to stay focused and ignore the strange smell coming from the other guy’s hair. “Four p.m. is load-in. The battle will start at six p.m. If you have a track or two to send in, just check out the link at the bottom of the flyer. If you sound good, you’ll get voted for a spot. If not, you can show up and hope to make the cut. The battle ends at one in the morning even if there’s still groups waiting to play, so the earlier you get a slot the better your chances.”

  “Hey, I got something.” Tall man snagged a CD from his backpack. “This friend of mine’s in a pop-punk band called Values. It’s good. You should take a listen.”

  The shorter guy pulled a CD from his case as well. “Here. I got one from our band, too.” He also removed a card from his wallet. “Contact info is on the back. Count us in.”

  I took the CDs, relieved to be done with my sales pitch. “Thanks. You’ll hear from us with your play time if you score an early spot. Oh, and spread the word.” I handed each of them a flyer.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Hawaiian dumped the day’s mail on the coffee table. “Here’s some more CDs.”

  I took another swig of coffee and ejected the CD I’d just been suffering through.

  Drake shoved back from his desk and stretched. “Thanks, man.”

  “Hey, Boss. You two don’t look so good. You guys need some sleep.”

  I shrugged and sifted through the mail. Drake didn’t say a word. What could he say? I had been staying at Bands for over a week, but we hadn’t slept together. We hadn’t touched each other in over a week. Of course, we didn’t talk about it, but the temperature between us matched the cooling fall temperatures outside. We’d been working around the clock, each taking breaks to sleep on the couch.