“So yeah, it was a pretty good steal. And this is actually the first time I’m wearing it, so you should feel special,” she finishes, winking at me as we slide up to the bar.
“Yeah, so special,” I mumble, anxious to get another shot of whiskey to drown out her voice. When we were in the cab, one of the millions of songs that remind me of Paisley came on and now I’m getting the uneasy feeling that she’s going to be on my brain all night. Damn, Tanner. You should just go home. This isn’t going to end well.
We wait at the bar, joking with the other residents, and finally Bailey drags Bethany to the bathroom. I’m seriously contemplating ditching when a pair of hands covers my eyes.
“Guess who?” a sweet voice chimes.
“Hmm,” I feel across the top of the hands, not really having to because I swear I’ll never be able to forget that voice for as long as I live. “Judging by the lack of fingernails present, would I be right to assume these are the hands of the anxious groupie from the Bad News Love Story concert?”
Kellee pulls her hands back and swats me on the arm as I turn to face her. “Hey! I am not a groupie. Would I have gone home with Dirk and let him tie me up with his guitar strap? Absolutely. But that’s beside the point.” She winks and grabs a fresh glass from under the bar, making my jeans tighten at the sight of her leaning over. The color of her eyes is still hard to decipher, but they’re glowing against her skin and her tiny freckles are begging me to touch them.
“Damn, I didn’t know that’s how it worked. Did I tell you I play guitar?” I half joke. Technically I only play one song, the one that I played for Paisley the night I kissed her. I bought a guitar not too long after I got back from seeing her and that was the only song I wanted to learn. But I’m finally trying to learn more, to forget about her and move on. It’s the thought that counts, right?
“Mm hmm, sure you do,” she smiles. “What can I get you?”
“Your phone number,” I shoot back quickly, leaning over the bar a bit. I know it’s another corny line to add to the rapidly lengthening list I’ve used with her, but I can’t help it. I’m intrigued by this girl, and for the first time in a long time I don’t just want to get her in my bed.
Although I wouldn’t be opposed to that option, either.
“Hm, I don’t know how to make that one. How about a Jack and Coke?” she cocks her brow and starts making the drink before I even respond.
“How’d you know that’s my drink of choice?”
“I have a sixth sense. I can tell what liquor ails each and every person I serve,” she slides the glass into my hand, softly grazing my fingertips with hers. “Also, I was your bartender two weeks ago, and it’s all you ordered.”
I smile, “Touché. So does this mean I get to hear you sing again tonight?”
She goes to answer, but Bethany interrupts, “Tanner! Did you get me a drink?” She slides up beside me and loops her arm inside mine, pursing her lips together as she turns to face Kellee. Kellee backs away and her eyes meet mine. I can’t tell for sure, but she looks like she might be jealous.
Please, please be jealous.
“I didn’t, but my friend Kellee here would be happy to make one for you. What would you like?” I smile at her and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She practically swoons in my arms and I kind of want to hurl, but if it gets me Kellee’s attention, I’m willing to play the game.
“Actually, your friend Kellee was just about to take a fifteen,” Kellee says curtly, whipping the towel off her shoulder and onto the bar. She turns and I jump up from my barstool and meet her at the opening in the bar.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you kidding me?” she huffs, trying to slide past me. I grab her arm and pull her closer. I hear the breath hitch in her throat and I want so badly to lean down and press my lips to hers, but I refrain.
“What? You didn’t want to come home with me the other night, so I had to move on. Trust me, I’d much rather have you.” God, what the hell am I saying? I’m being such an ass right now, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hauled off and slapped me across the face.
“Well I’m glad to see you have your backup plan,” she eyes Bethany with a fiery glare and then turns back to me. “And trust me, there’s plenty of guys in line before you, so I’m not worried about who you take home.” She rips from my grip and storms away, leaving me steaming.
I know I shouldn’t care, and most importantly shouldn’t believe her – it’s obvious she’s just pissed, but the thought of another guy with her sets me on edge. I clench my fists together and feel my jaw tense as Benny walks up to me, my drink in his hand.
“Hey bro, you scammin’ on my girl?” he lifts a brow and hands me my drink.
I give him a death glare and then down the whiskey in one swig, letting it burn my chest, “She’s not your girl.”
“Whoa, I was kidding,” he throws his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy, killer. Where’s Bethany?”
I nod to Bethany, still sitting by the bar and watching my every move. She points at me and wiggles her finger for me to come join her just as the DJ announces that karaoke is starting. I sigh, deflated, “I need another drink.”
* * *
It’s almost two and I’m wasted. Bethany left me alone about an hour ago after I made some asshole comment that I can’t even recall right now, and the sad thing is I don’t really care. I was glad to get rid of her.
Kellee has been eying me all night, at first with disgust like she hated me, but then it slowly faded to concern and I felt her watching every time Sal slid a new drink into my hands. I wasn’t sure which one I hated more.
I take another swig of my drink, all but draining it when the DJ announces last call and ends karaoke. I’m about to try to find Benny when I hear the soft melody of Edge of Desire by John Mayer fill the bar.
Mother fucker.
I wanted to play this song for Paisley the night I kissed her, but I went with an underground song instead. I didn’t want to share our song with anyone else, and I wanted that song to be as special to her as it was to me. Even though I didn’t go with this song, it still always reminds me of her.
It was a perfect night, until she pushed me away. I’ll never forget the feel of her lips on mine, the way she kissed me back at first – and I definitely won’t forget her soft eyes glossing over as I pulled out of her complex, so pissed off I couldn’t see straight after she told me she didn’t see me in that way. I thought it was because she really loved me and was trying to fight it, but it turns out it was because she loved him, no matter how much she may have wanted to love me.
I feel sick.
I slam my glass down on the bar and beeline for the door, letting the cool early morning air rush my hot skin as I throw my back against the wall outside The Box. Every alarm in my body is sounding off, telling me I should just wave down the next cab and sleep it off, but I don’t give a fuck. I pull out my phone and before I think better of it, I dial her number.
“Tanner?” she answers, her voice groggy with sleep. “Are you okay?”
I choke back the uneasy feeling in my throat, knowing this girl has the power to make tears spill down my face like a little fucking baby if she wanted to. I just sit and savor her voice, breathe in her sweetness.
“Tanner?” she asks again.
“No, I’m not okay,” I finally say, just above a whisper. “I’m not fucking okay.”
“What happened? Is your family alright?”
I laugh, shaking my head. This girl doesn’t even know what she does to me. I go to respond when I hear a muffled voice in the background and then Paisley softly answering that it’s me on the phone.
Corbin.
I hang up and throw my phone before she can call back. It lands a few feet from me and doesn’t break. I stand up and storm toward it, ready to smash my heel into the screen when a hand grabs my arm.
“Tanner don’t, just let it go,” I turn around and meet Kellee’s soft eyes. She moves in front of
me and picks up my phone, tucking it in her pocket. I drag my fingers through my hair and turn away from her, screaming with all I have in me. My voice barrels through my chest and echoes off the buildings, sending each aching note flying right back in my face. People from inside The Box and across the street are staring at me, but I don’t give a shit.
I turn back to Kellee, “I… she… damnit!” I don’t even know where to start, how to explain. I don’t even know what I’m trying to explain. Kellee moves toward me and the closer she gets, the harder I breathe. My heart pounds in my chest but I feel it all the way up into my ears. She stops just inches away from me, her eyes staring up into mine. I can almost see what color they are, but my vision is blurry and we’re hidden from the lights above. Her hand reaches out for mine, and I instinctively want to pull it away, but I let her hold it.
“Come home with me.”
She doesn’t know it, but those four words save me. I nod and before I have time to process, I’m sitting in the back of a cab on the way to her place, her hand still holding mine.
Chapter 4
Sixth Sense
Kellee
Don’t freak out, Kellee. Don’t freak out.
My hands are slightly shaking as I unlock the door to my apartment. I push it open and turn to Tanner, the ghosts still dancing in his eyes. I know he needs me right now, he needs someone there. What I can’t figure out is what the hell I’m going to have to offer him.
The door is open, but my feet feel like cement. Tanner offers a sideways smile that’s probably ten times sexier than he intended and grabs my hand, pulling me through.
My apartment is small, like all other New York City apartments, but it’s been my home since last year when I earned a scholarship on top of working and could finally afford it. I toss my keys on the kitchen counter and grab one of Trista’s beers and a water from the fridge. When I turn around, Tanner is slowly running his thumb along the bottom of one of our shelves lined with different pictures. One is of me, Dad, Seth, and Mee Ma posing in front of the Grand Canyon. We took a family trip there a few summers ago. The other, which seems to be the one that’s caught his eye, is of me and my mom. It was taken less than a week before she left.
I wonder if she knew she was leaving already. Maybe that’s why she insisted on the picture.
“You look just like her,” he says softly, turning to face me. I try offering him the water first, but he shakes his head, so I pull the beer out from behind my back and offer it instead. I know I shouldn’t be feeding him any more alcohol, but as long as he’s in my place, I know he can’t do anything to hurt himself. He takes it, offering me a slight smile as he turns back to the frame.
“Thanks. She’s a lot prettier than I am, though. She has perfect skin and the thickest hair,” I bite the inside of my cheek and shift on my feet. Jesus, even a practical stranger thinks I’m like her.
Tanner reaches out and brushes the back of his hand against my cheek, “I’ve never seen a girl look as pretty as you do right now.”
I blush, even though it’s a ridiculous line and he’s three drinks past drunk. “Yeah yeah, you’re not getting in my pants tonight so cut the crap.”
I finally get a legitimate smile out of him and he follows me to the couch. “Are you close with her? Your mom, I mean.”
I twist the top off my water and take a few swigs, thankful for the wetness to wash out the cigarette smoke caked in my throat. “I was.”
“Was?”
I nod, “Yeah. She left us about nine years ago. I was thirteen.” I take another swig and pretend it doesn’t bother me, like we’re just talking about the weather or how work was tonight, but the heaviness of each word I just said is weighing down on my chest and making my heart beat slower and slower.
Tanner curses under his breath and reaches his hand out for mine. Funny, he seemed so shaken when I took his hand outside of The Box, but now he’s taking it like he owns it. Like my hand has never belonged anywhere else but right there inside of his.
“I’m so sorry. Shit, I don’t even know what to say,” I see worry spread over his forehead and I shake my head and set my water down on the coffee table.
“Don’t be. It’s been a long time and I’m pretty much over it,” I lie. “Besides, I didn’t bring you to my apartment to talk about my mom.”
“Oh?” Tanner asks, leaning in closer. His face is just inches from mine and even through the scent of whiskey I can smell the minty sweetness on his breath, “What did you bring me here for?”
“To take me to my bedroom and ravage my body,” I say as seriously as I can, licking my lower lip. Tanner’s eyes grow wide and for a second I think he’s lost the ability to speak for the first time in his life. I smile and push on his chest to put some space between us, “To talk, Mr. Smooth. Tell me about the girl.”
Tanner’s smile fades and he leans back against the cushions, taking a swig of his beer. “How do you know it’s a girl?”
“Oh please,” I say, crossing my arms. “Like every single person at The Box doesn’t know about the girl from Florida. Stop playing dumb and spill.”
I can tell he’s frustrated, and I’m worried he might bail and walk out the door, but he takes another sip and then sets his beer down. His eyes meet mine and I can feel my heart breaking inside. I’ve never felt so much sadness from one look. Without even hearing a word out of his mouth, I know this girl broke him.
“Her name is Paisley. She’s my best friend, but I fucked up and fell in love with her.”
I know it shouldn’t, but it stings to hear him say he loves another girl. “And you can’t tell her?”
“I did tell her,” he laughs softly, shaking his head. “I told her. But I waited too long, and she’s in love with someone else.”
I want to reach out for him, to touch him and have him touch me. I just want to take away the pain I can feel radiating from him. But something tells me he’s had the “I’m sorry” treatment, and obviously it isn’t helping. “Ouch,” I offer instead, trying to keep up the casual banter between us. “Have you contacted Lifetime yet?”
Tanner looks up at me, his mouth slightly open in shock. He appraises me for a moment before a smile breaks out on his gorgeous face and he tosses one of my pillows at me, “Wow, don’t cry or anything. I can see you’re really torn up about this.”
I laugh and grab my water, but Tanner grabs it from my hand and steals a swig before I get the chance. I smile, glad that he’s sobering up. “I’m sorry, I just know that I get tired of hearing everyone tell me how sorry they are about my mom. People being sorry or offering me a sympathetic look doesn’t change the facts of my life.”
He tilts his head to the side for a minute, like he’s thinking hard about what I just said. “God, you are so right. I think I just realized how much I hate when people tell me they’re sorry about my situation.”
“Well, I promise to not give you any sympathy,” I say, holding up my two fingers like I think the Girl Scouts do. “On one condition.”
“And that is?”
“Stop using your lines that you use on every other girl on me. If I have to deny your pathetic attempt to get me into bed one more time, I might not be able to fight the need to feel sorry for you.”
This time Tanner laughs. I mean he legitimately laughs, and I see his bright teeth light up his face for the first time. “I can’t make any promises that I won’t try again, but I promise I won’t actually take you to bed until you ask me to.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Oh yeah? And what makes you so confident that I’ll ask?”
He shrugs, that cute sexy half smile taking its usual place. “I guess that’s my sixth sense.”
We sit there for a moment, both of us just staring at each other and listening to the soft buzz of New York City outside my windows. Suddenly, Tanner leans forward and his forehead scrunches in concentration as he studies me. I want to look away, afraid I might have something on my face, but finally he whispers, “Gray.”
“Gray,” he says a little louder, brushing my hair back from my face and tucking it behind my ear. “I’ve been trying to figure out the color of your eyes since the first night I met you. They’re gray.”
I inhale deeply and I know Tanner can feel my nerves. His eyes flicker back and forth between mine and he leans in, his lips just fucking centimeters from touching mine and releasing all this tension tied up in my muscles.
But I can’t do this. I can’t kiss him when his brain was just so focused on some other girl that he couldn’t think straight.
I jump up, grabbing my empty water bottle and walking to the kitchen. “I told you not to use those corny lines on me. And don’t tuck my hair behind my ear like you did with that girl you were with earlier. Maybe I like it hanging in front of my face sometimes.”
Tanner smiles and stretches his arms across the couch, his muscles flexing and moving under his shirt.
Good God.
“I can’t figure you out, Freckles,” he says, still studying me from across the room. “I can’t decide if I like that or hate that about you.”
I smile and grab a pillow and blanket from our linen closet, tossing them both in his direction. “You should probably hate me, it’d be easier that way.” I think about my mom and how everyone says I’m so much like her. I can’t let myself get into anything with this guy. His heart is already broken enough without me fucking it up.
“Are you going to bed?” he asks, surveying my apartment as I shut off lights.
“Yes, and you’re not invited. Sleep out here and in the morning I’ll make us breakfast and you can tell me about Paisley.”
Song Chaser (Chasers) Page 3