by Lisa Edward
As soon as he had hung up, the waterworks started again, but he didn’t need to know that.
It would be five weeks before Riley was due back for Christmas. Five weeks to try to fill my time with ordinary, boring life, until I could see him again.
Speaking to Riley became the highlight of my day whenever he had the opportunity to call, which unfortunately was only two or three times a week.
On the days he couldn’t phone he would send me sneaky text messages, telling me he loved me and missed me. I would read these messages over and over again, trying to imagine his voice saying those words. He had given me his schedule so I knew which nights he would call, and I would make sure I was home and alone so we could talk without interruption.
It became a ritual for me to pour a glass of wine, and curl up on the couch, waiting for the phone to ring.
I loved hearing about what he was up to, and the funny things that the other guys in the unit had done. But as the weeks went by, I began to feel more and more like a spectator of Riley’s life, and less like a part of it.
He would tell me about the training that they were doing, including helicopter flying, and how hard things were, or how much fun they had been. But I didn’t really know what some of the military terms meant. At first I would ask him to explain things to me, but after a while I felt a bit silly for not knowing, so I just let him talk. He would talk about people I hadn’t met, and places they’d gone to that I had never been. He would ask me what I had been up to, but my life seemed so boring compared to his that I usually just skimmed over the details.
It had been three weeks, and I was feeling further away from him than ever before. But most of all, I just missed him. I missed seeing him, and touching him, and being able to cuddle up to him at night. I missed his facial expressions; his piercing sapphire-blue smiling eyes, and the way he could make me feel just by looking at me.
I decided we needed to make more memories of our own that would help us feel closer when we couldn’t be together. So it became a project for me to find things to do when he was back in Melbourne for Christmas.
“We need to go out,” Kelli said one night.
We had been watching a DVD and eating pizza at my apartment, which seemed to be our standard thing to do on a Friday evening.
“I don’t feel like going out,” I protested.
“That’s why we should go out. You’re doing exactly what I said we shouldn’t do: you’re waiting for Riley to come back and complete you.” She placed her hands melodramatically over her heart as she said it.
“What can I say? He had me at hello,” I replied with a shrug.
“Oh, I love that movie!” It was Jason. I had taken to not locking my apartment door—the security door should be security enough—and he had let himself in. “Are we watching Jerry Maguire?”
“We can if you want to,” I replied, looking for an excuse to not go out.
“NO! We are having a girl’s night out, and we are going to have fun.” Kelli had put her foot down, and there was no point in arguing with her—she would not back down once she had set her mind on something. “We don’t want them thinking we’re just sitting here waiting for them to show up.”
She had her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at me, daring me to disagree with her.
Obediently, I got up and went into the bedroom to search for the cutest outfits I could find in the wardrobe to go clubbing in.
The music was pumping as Kelli and I entered Ice Pick, and made our way straight for the dance floor. The place was huge, at least four times the size of Songbirds, with a long bar that ran the entire length of one wall and was lit in neon ice-blue.
There were podiums placed strategically around the room, and a few had girls dancing on them—not paid dancers, just people from the crowd who felt the need for a little more attention to be aimed their way.
We found a spot on the dance floor that was just big enough for two, and joined the throng of people jumping up and down to the beat of the music, arms in the air. Kelli was fairly uncoordinated, but she threw everything she had into it, so you couldn’t help but do the same.
We were bumped and rubbed up against by girls and guys alike, either deliberately or because it was so packed you couldn’t avoid it.
It was getting hot, and I could feel the perspiration run down my back. I grabbed the hair-tie I seemed to always have around my wrist for emergencies, and pulled my long, soft curls back into a messy ponytail. That was better. I’d decided on my shimmery blue halter-neck top and skinny pants, and with my hair off my back, my skin could cool down a little.
Finally, when we were both too hot and sweaty and in need of a break, we headed to the bar to buy a drink.
We made our way through the crowd to the bar, and waited five people deep until we finally reached the front of the queue. We were standing at the bar trying not to touch the black, sticky counter top, waiting to catch the eye of the barman, yelling to each other so we could be heard.
“Next time, I want to go see a band, okay?” I shouted.
Kelli nodded just as the barman came over.
“We have a band here,” the barman shouted at us. “They’re playing upstairs.” He pointed in the direction of a staircase over on the far wall.
I smiled and mouthed thanks—there was no point shouting unnecessarily. So we ordered a couple of Budweisers and a shot of tequila each, and headed for the stairs.
We made our way upstairs and found a table. There was music playing over the speakers, and I assumed the band was yet to go on. The lighting was subdued compared to downstairs, just stage lights and a couple over the bar. All around the outside of the room were tables, and in the centre was a busy but not packed dance floor, where people bopped up and down with drinks in hand.
I smiled at Kelli; now this was more like it. I loved everything about live music, from the performance aspect to the musicians, and the originality of the songs. Even the music that was playing now before the band came on was more like pub music.
I looked over at the table beside the stage. There was a large group of girls milling around it. Must be the band’s table. I was watching the girls and the way they flicked their hair and stuck out their boobs to get noticed, when I saw a familiar face walk over to the table.
I laughed, and Kelli looked at me, puzzled. I pointed over to the guy; she looked, then looked a little more closely, and shrugged.
“It’s Jay, the cellist from the ball,” I said, leaning in so she could hear me.
She looked again and nodded. He appeared very different wearing his rock band outfit than he did in a tuxedo, playing the cello.
I was just contemplating going over to say hi when there was movement from the table. The band were getting up to go on stage. I shrugged at Kelli. We could say hello later.
Jay slung his guitar strap over his shoulder and took up position on our side of the stage. The bass guitarist and drummer took up their spots, then the singer stepped out into the light and the crowd went crazy.
I’d just taken a mouthful of beer and nearly choked as it went down the wrong way.
“Holy fuck,” I said, gasping for air. “It’s Mr Hotbod.”
Mr Hotbod was the focal point, and immediately drew the eye. He was even hotter in his distractingly tight black Bourbon Street T-shirt, faded denim jeans, and scruffy boots. His dark brown hair was still messy as it had been at the gym, but it was a styled messy now. He had bed hair that Jason wouldn’t be able to resist.
He looked out into the crowd and smiled seductively, relishing the attention he was getting from the adoring girls clambering to reach him. He opened his mouth to sing and that deep, gravelly voice hit me in the pit of my stomach as he belted out some heavy rock song I didn’t know.
I looked at Kelli. She was laughing so hard I thought she was going to pee her pants.
“Do you want to go?” she asked, still rolling around laughing.
I shook my head; it would be silly to run away
every time I was in the same room as him. Besides, I was with Riley now, and I wanted to say hello to Jay.
The next song had a faster tempo. Kelli grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the dance floor where we decided to see how close we could get to the stage. We danced and weaved our way to just in front of Jay; he was busy concentrating on a difficult riff and didn’t look up for quite a while, even though there were a few girls screaming out his name. When he did finally look up he did a double take, before smiling widely at us, and pointing to the band table in a roped off section near the stage.
We stayed where we were for a few more songs before the band took a break, and we went over to the area Jay had pointed to.
We stood back while girls made a desperate rush for the band, in particular for Mr Hotbod, who loved every minute of it as he took phone number after phone number.
Finally, Jay came over and gave me a warm hug. “Great to see you, Tara, and Kelli, right?” he said, beaming at us.
He led us over to the table and told a couple of scantily clad girls to move, before offering us their seats.
“So, what did you think of our set?” he asked leaning over the table, eyes wide with anticipation.
“You were great. How long have you been playing together?” The tight way they’d played the songs and the easy interaction with the crowd, made it seem like they had been together for a long time.
“What’s the name of the band, by the way?” I asked as an afterthought.
“Sons of Titan,” he said, rolling his eyes at the name. “But most people just refer to us as The Sons. We’ve been together for about a year now. We’ve played at a few bars; this is our regular gig on a Friday night. I’d like to get us some more regulars lined up if I can.”
“You sound really tight, and Mr … ah, the singer’s voice is awesome,” I commented enthusiastically.
I’d nearly referred to him as Mr Hotbod, and it made me smile. I would have to be careful not to let it slip out.
“Don’t tell him that. His head’s big enough as it is,” Jay joked as he watched the singer stick his tongue down some girl’s throat. “He’s on a mission to shag as many girls as he can in this lifetime—anyone, anywhere.”
“That’s not entirely true, Jay,” a deep gravelly voice said from beside us. “I only shag the pretty ones.”
He stepped closer and rested his hands on the table. He was a formidable figure as he leaned over toward Kelli and me.
“Speaking of pretty ones,” he said, smiling charmingly. “We meet again.” His emerald-green eyes showed he had recognised my face instantly.
“Don’t bother, Cole, she has a boyfriend who could kick your ass with one hand tied behind his back,” Jay said, remembering Riley from the ball.
Cole frowned. “I thought you were single,” he said, his emerald eyes still studying my face.
I shook my head and shrugged. “Not anymore.”
“So, is it safe to assume that if you have a boyfriend now, you must be getting laid? Have I missed my chance?” he asked with a glint in his eye.
Thank goodness it was dark, because I was sure I had turned scarlet as heat prickled my cheeks.
Nodding, I managed to squeak out a feeble, “Sorry.”
Sorry? What was I sorry for exactly?
Cole gave me a wink. “Never say never, right?” Then he went to find one of his many willing fans.
“What was all that about?” Jay asked. “Don’t tell me you know him?” Jay looked disappointed, which I quickly realised was because he thought I was one of Cole’s groupies.
Laughing, I held my hands up, trying to stop Jay’s thoughts. “We go to the same gym, that’s all.”
Jay nodded and smiled, accepting my explanation.
“Nice guy, isn’t he?” I said grimacing. “Shame he’s so shy. Still, he does have a great voice. Did you say his name’s Cole?”
Jay laughed. “Cole’s not his real name, but Victor wasn’t rock god enough for him, so he changed it.” Then he shook his head. “I’m afraid he doesn’t take rejection well. He’ll see you as a challenge now.”
The band went back up to play after a short break, and Kelli and I joined the groupie set, dancing and waving mockingly at Jay who just laughed and shook his head at us. Then we danced our way over to the middle in front of Cole, and pretended to swoon over him like the other girls. He was busy working the crowd and didn’t see us at first, but when he did, he played up to it and reached out to us, touching our hands.
The next song they played was a ballad, and Cole reached out to the crowd once more. This time, though, the girls seemed to know what was coming, and were elbowing each other out of the way to get to him.
Kelli and I stepped back. We weren’t that keen on being knocked out, but Cole reached past the girls in the front and went to grab my hand. I heard a very distinct “no” coming from Jay’s direction, and Cole looked over at him before seizing the hand of the girl next to me and pulling her up on stage.
He slow-danced with her, grinding himself against her body while he sang seductively about wanting to possess her and longing to make her scream for more. She, in turn, rubbed her hands over his chest and held tight to his backside. At the end of the song he gazed lovingly into her eyes before kissing her so full-on on the mouth that I almost had to turn away.
When he pulled away, the poor girl looked dazed for a moment before giving a “woo hoo!” and a fist pump to the crowd, then jumping off stage.
Cole looked down, and caught my eye. “Next time, Tara,” he said with a wink, before counting in the next song.
Kelli dragged me off the dance floor. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind about Mr Hotbod. That guy is bad news. We need to go.”
“Kell, he’s just messing around. Besides, it takes two, and I’m with Riley so nothing’s going to happen,” I reassured her. “Come on, let’s get another drink. We can watch from a safe distance.”
Nudging her with my shoulder, she rolled her eyes at me. We went and bought a couple more beers and another shot each before sitting back down at the table, well away from the stage and Cole.
At the end of the set, which was also their last, Jay came back over and invited us to join him at their table, which we did. I spoke some more to Jay about what he wanted for the band, before offering to speak to Marcus about maybe having The Sons play at Songbirds.
Kelli thought it was a really terrible idea, mainly because it would mean seeing Cole more often. But I reassured her for the second time that nothing was going to happen, and besides, the band were really good, and I owed Jay for giving me that push to play piano again.
Cole came over and pulled up a chair, turning it around so he was sitting backwards on it.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced, although I’ve seen you half a dozen times at the gym. My name’s Cole Michaels, and you are?” He held out his hand formally to me.
“I’m Tara O’Connell,” I said, taking his hand, and shaking it firmly.
“Right, and you no longer need to get laid.” His eyes were burning through me as the corner of his mouth twitched up in a half-smile. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I have a boyfriend now, so I’m getting plenty of sex, but thanks for asking.” What the fuck was I saying?
He gave me a husky laugh. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Your boyfriend is a lucky guy, but just in case, you know where you can find me.”
Heat was rising in my cheeks again.
“Although I haven’t seen you at the gym recently. I guess all that sex has replaced your usual workout,” he said with a devilish glimmer in his eye. “A twenty-minute run on the treadmill, followed by lunges, squats, free weights, and stretches, right?”
I squirmed in my seat. Had he been watching me, or was it just a good guess?
He chuckled softly. “And this is Kelli, right? The girl who announced to everyone that you wanted to get laid by Mr Hotbod.” He was enjoying this way too much as I squirmed even more.
>
Kelli gave him a half-hearted wave, and Cole laughed again.
“Okay, so your friend’s not a fan,” he said, aiming those emerald-green eyes back at me. “But what about you? Did you like the show?” It was a question, but he asked it so confidently, as if he already knew the answer.
I told him I thought they were great, then Jay told him that I play and sing at Songbirds, and that I was going to try to line something up for them with Marcus.
It was strange; as soon as Jay mentioned my musical connection, and Cole realised I wasn’t going to sleep with him, his whole character changed.
Cole was actually very charming, and wanted to know how long I’d been playing, and what type of music I liked. And maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol in my system, but I couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. They were hypnotic.
Once he dropped the show he seemed to put on for all the girls, he was actually a really interesting guy who had a great knowledge of music. We chatted animatedly and in depth about various styles, and compared the artists of old to the artists of our generation.
He was witty and attentive, and I couldn’t help feeling drawn to him. Not only was he extremely hot, he had a great passion for music, which sparked my own passion even more.
Kelli and Jay, meanwhile, were enjoying their own private in-joke, rolling their eyes at each other and giggling at us.
A few of the girls were persistent, and after growing tired of Cole ignoring them, came over and interrupted our conversation. One tried not so subtly to edge her way onto Cole’s lap, but he wasn’t interested, which seemed to surprise everyone who was around us. He, in not-so-polite terms, told her he was busy, and to go away. She pouted at him seductively, then leaned over, almost spilling out of her top, before offering just loud enough for me to hear, to wait out the back for him. Apparently she wanted to say hello to The Prince. He smiled sweetly at her and said that would be fine, before dismissing her with a flick of his hand.
“Don’t let me keep you. I would hate for The Prince to miss out,” I said, eyebrow raised, when he turned his attention back to me. I couldn’t resist. “Do you seriously have a name for your …” I pointed down at his crotch.