by Joy Eileen
The boys were at the table talking while we closed the bar down for the night.
“What has your panties in a knot?” Denise, the oldest of the waitresses, asked Ryan.
Jessie and I both stopped what we were doing, curious as to what she would say. Ryan ignored us for a while, but with all of us staring at her, she couldn’t do it for very long.
“That fucker over there,” she growled, quietly pointing at Matt, who continued to stare at her.
He got up from the table and walked over, leaving Bambi and the boys behind.
“Fuck, why can’t he just go away?” she mumbled, looking down at the table.
“Hey, sexy girl. Were you talking about me?” he asked, coming up behind her.
Her body tensed when he put his hands on the back of her chair. “Nope, I don’t remember talking about an egotistical soldier boy. Was I girls?” she asked, glaring at us with challenge in her eyes. We shook our heads, not wanting to end up on her bad side.
“What time do you have to leave tomorrow, or I guess today?” I asked, receiving a death-glare from Ryan.
“I have to be at the airport at seventeen hundred hours.”
I started to do the math in my head.
“Five o'clock,” Ryan answered for me.
He glanced over at her, finally catching her eye. They studied each other while the rest of us smiled at their obvious connection.
“Are you ready to go?” Bambi yelled from across the bar, breaking the intensity of their stare.
Ryan blinked and went back to glaring at the table. Matt ignored Bambi, and continued to stare at Ryan. He sighed, probably realizing she wasn’t going to pay him anymore attention.
Matt turned away, his shoulders slumped as he made his way to the boys. He kept stealing glances at Ryan, looking even sadder. I kicked her under the table, and she jerked her head up to scowl at me. I refused to back down.
“We'll be right back,” I said, hauling Ryan to the breakroom and plunking her down in a chair. I was surprised she let me manhandle her the way I did. That alone showed how far gone she was in her head.
“What are you doing?” I asked her, sitting so that we were face to face.
She glanced down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. I stared at the top of her head, waiting for her to get her thoughts together. Finally, she sighed and began to explain. “I don’t know. Have you ever met someone, and you knew that if you spent time with them, they would own you completely, have so much power over you they could break you?”
I gasped at her words, understanding exactly where she was coming from. I nodded my head in acknowledgement. She was still looking down, so she didn’t see me.
“I’ve never felt this kind of connection, like the one I feel when I'm with him, and I'm positive he feels it too. He's leaving, and there's no guarantee he'll return. I don’t need that in my life right now, so it's better to stay away from him,” she confessed.
“I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I want you to remember that not everyone gets a chance to find someone they have an instant connection with. It's rare, and special, and scary as fuck.”
She finally sought my eyes, and I could tell by the way her dark eyes searched my face that she was wondering if I’d felt what she’d just described. If she asked, I would refuse to tell her the truth, because just like her I was terrified.
“I don’t want you to regret not exploring what you're feeling. Especially when your time with him is so limited.”
She hung her head with a look of defeat. I kissed the back of her head and left her alone, giving her time to think. As I made my way out into the hallway, Matt was leaning on the wall, staring at the room I'd just exited. I searched his face to see if he’d overheard our conversation, but he gave nothing away.
“Go talk to her,” I encouraged him as I went by. He pushed off the wall and walked down the short hallway toward Ryan, not needing any more reassurance.
The rest of us began shutting down the bar without Ryan. From the looks Denise and Jessie kept shooting toward the back room, I could tell they were dying to know what had transpired. With Bambi sitting next to us pretending to help, they had to keep their mouths shut.
When we were done, I stood in the hallway next to Denise and Jessie, none of us sure if we should go back and disturb Ryan and soldier boy. Bambi didn't hesitate; she pushed by us, expelling an annoyed huff.
Denise followed, right on Bambi's tail. I hissed at her to come back.
"I don't want to miss the show," Denise said before entering the breakroom.
"I don't want to miss it either," Jessie said, pulling me along with her.
Ryan and Matt were nowhere to be found. I shot Jessie a smirk as Bambi slammed her locker open. My phone vibrated in my apron, pulling me out of my silent celebration with Jessie. There was a text from Ryan waiting for me.
Damn you and
your words of
wisdom. I'm kicking
your ass if you tell
anyone about this.
Pride rose in my chest. From the moment I’d met Ryan, I could tell she didn't let people in very often. Her I don't give a shit attitude kept most everyone at bay. Tonight she wasn't letting her fears get the best of her.
My heart beat a staccato as it listed the cowardly similarities I’d had just described in Ryan. When I stepped out of the breakroom, Kill was waiting for me by the back door. He was talking to Catcher and the boys, but as soon as my gaze settled on him, he turned and shot me a half smile heating my body. Just from his look, I realized I wasn't strong enough to try to hold on to him when he left, but as of right now, I was too weak to stop myself from falling for him.
“Ready to go, Slick?” he asked, slinging his arm over me, after taking my bag from my shoulder.
“Yep, night,” I said to everyone as I rushed Kill to my car.
Chapter 6
The next day, I ran over to Ryan as soon as I spotted her black-and-blue hair. "Tell me everything," I huffed out breathlessly, settling onto a bar stool.
"I don't want to talk about it," Ryan snarled. I bit the bottom of my lip to stop myself from offering her sympathy, which I knew she would not accept.
Dax, the cook, and Ryan's favorite person to pick on, waved me over from the kitchen window. His blonde hair was hidden under a backward black hat, giving me a better view of his sparkling brown eyes.
"What's wrong with her?" he whispered, eyeing Ryan to make sure she wasn't listening.
"I think she met the one last night."
"Oh, that explains it. The rock heart has been penetrated." He smiled brightly, most likely plotting how to mess with her given this new knowledge.
"That's not the worst of it. He went back to Afghanistan today."
"That's going to fuck her up." His brown eyes dimmed, the plotting seeming to vanish. "She'll pretend it doesn't bug her, but it will."
"What do you know?" I hissed, desperately wanting to learn about Ryan's past.
"That's her story to tell. Now, go away; she's coming."
"Are you going to drag ass all night?" Dax screamed at Ryan.
"Shut the fuck up and make me an order of fries," Ryan yelled right back.
I turned my head to catch Dax wink at me before he turned back to the kitchen.
Ryan shot snarky comments at everyone the rest of the night. On the outside, she appeared as if nothing was wrong. It wasn't fooling the people who loved her. Her eyes looked sad. The humor that always lit them had disappeared, and if I was going to chance a guess, it had gone overseas with a certain someone. It hurt my heart to see her suffering, and I hated to admit it, but her reaction made me anxious. I would be going through something similar soon enough when Kill took off to pursue his dream.
D was positive they were days away from being invited to Tryptophan Torture Fest on Thanksgiving, and everything would change after that. There was no doubt in my mind they would be signed the moment they stepped offstage.
My monthly visi
tor had finally packed up and left by the next day. I felt like a skittish virgin when I climbed out of my empty bed. Tonight would be the night I gave myself entirely to Kill. I rolled my eyes at my dramatic thoughts as my vagina did her very own happy dance.
Kill sat on the couch, my steaming cup of coffee on the table in front of him. I took a sip before sitting down and leaning on his shoulder. It was then I noticed he wasn’t in his normal workout clothes. I sat up and took in the sight of his dark blue jeans, black t-shirt, and black boots.
“No running today, Slick," he said, answering my unasked question. "We only have a couple of hours before we have band practice. I’d suggest taking your pretty ass upstairs and getting ready.”
I stared at him with a dumbfounded expression.
“If you don’t get a move on, I'll carry you upstairs and dress you myself.”
I flew upstairs, excited to see what he had in store for us. I dressed similarly to him, putting on black skinny jeans, my Stone Sour tank-top, and a pair of lime-green heels.
I ran to the bathroom and put my hair in a messy bun, doing my makeup quickly. Downstairs, Kill gave me a heated look as he surveyed my outfit. I felt the scorching burn everywhere his eyes touched. My nipples ached to be in his mouth, now knowing the pleasure he could provide them. When he reached my feet his eyes lit up, but then he shook his head.
“As sexy as those are, go change into something you can walk in.”
I saw the remorse in his eyes, when he glanced back down to my feet. “Hurry up.” He clapped his hands together excitedly. I ran upstairs and put my shoes away, exchanging them for my purple Chucks instead.
At the bottom of the stairs, I found Kill sitting on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. A stormy look had taken over his face. I gave him a questioning glance, wondering why his mood had changed so drastically, but then the answer revealed itself. D came out of the kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt.
He smiled when he saw me. “Hey. Kill said you were going to take a hike around the trails, and I thought I would tag along.”
Kill's eyes pleaded with me, most likely asking for permission to tell D about us. I shook my head and plastered on my fake smile.
"Well, let’s get going. I heard the band's manager is kind of a stickler when it comes to missing practice," I said in an overly-chipper voice.
Kill scowled, and I gave him what I hoped to be an apologetic smile.
“Why don’t we take the Highlander?” D suggested, heading out the front door. Kill grabbed my arm before I could walk by. I turned to him and put my hands on his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat through his shirt.
“I wanted today to be perfect. I had something to tell you,” he growled. His face conveyed the hurt he was feeling.
“It will be perfect,” I replied.
His jaw clenched, and I ran my hand over his cheek wanting to soothe him.
“If you tell him today it'll piss him off. You'll want to talk to him and make it better, ruining our night. So, I say keep the peace today, and we'll tell him later.”
I could see the conflict in his eyes as he debated what he should do. He finally nodded his head and put his arm around my shoulder, leading me out to the Highlander. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a granola bar. “We'll tell everyone soon. I don't like this sneaking around. We're grown adults. Eat this. I'll be right back,” he said, letting me go and running back into the house.
I watched him jog away, admiring the way his ass fit in his jeans. D walked up to me as I took a bite.
“Where's he going?”
With my mouth full, I just shrugged my shoulders. I turned around to get into D's car when I spotted another piece of paper under my windshield wiper. Trying to act as nonchalantly as possible, I walked over to my car. My feet felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds each. The bite I'd just swallowed hardened in my stomach, making friends with the boulder. Snatching the paper up with trembling hands, I opened it. It was the same message as the last one. An angry red slash that read,
MINE.
I stuffed it into the bottom of my bag, just before Kill made his way toward the car, a backpack slung over his shoulder. I scrambled into the back of the Highlander before D could question me. Kill reluctantly took shotgun, and I did my best to finish the granola bar. D kept glancing at me in the rear view mirror, and I tried to appear as if I didn’t have some crazy stalker note burning a hole in my bag.
By the time we reached the trails, I’d been able to finish my snack and offer the boulder a friend to accompany him for the remainder of the day.
“Ready to go, Slick?” Kill asked, opening the door to help me out. His jaw was clenched, and I knew this wasn’t the way he’d planned the day to go. I wanted to insure he had a good day and an even better night after seeing his plans ruined. He glanced down at me when I got out and linked my arm through his. His jaw finally unclenched, and he shot me his half smile.
“Yep, let’s get this show on the road,” I responded, nudging him lightly.
He hefted the backpack higher on his shoulder as D came around, frowning when he saw us linked together.
“Whatcha got in there, Killer?” I asked indicating the backpack with my chin.
“What? This thing?” he replied, acting as if I’d asked the contents of his bank vault. “That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” he taunted, bopping me on my nose with his finger, I rolled my eyes, even though I secretly loved the attention.
“Come on; let’s get going. We still have practice later,” D grumbled, breaking us out of the moment.
Kill's grin disappeared when he glared at D. I nudged him harder than before, getting his attention and offering him my own glare, hoping he would knock it off. He unlinked his arm and moved it to my shoulder.
“Yep,” he answered D.
D stared at him a moment, and I began to grow uncomfortable with the unspoken conversation they seemed to be having. D finally sighed and stalked toward the trail.
“This is going to be so much fun,” I said sarcastically under my breath.
Kill laughed quietly as we caught up to D. The trail was beautiful, and soon I was so immersed in the view, I forgot about the awkward situation as I pointed out different things that caught my eye.
Kill kept his arm slung around my shoulder during the entire hike, naming some of the plants I would point out. Eventually, D stopped pouting and helped Kill identify some of the plant species he didn’t recognize.
When we reached the top of the trail, they were as close to amiable as it was going to get, and I was enjoying myself. We sat on a picnic table, taking in the sights.
“Here you go, Slick,” Kill said, pulling me from my reverie.
I took the bottle of water he handed me, thanking him before taking a big drink. I watched as he pulled stuff out of the backpack. He threw a sandwich at D, who snatched it from the air.
“Thanks,” he said.
I watched to see what else he would pull out of his magic bag. “You thought of everything,” I said, taking a bite out of my sandwich and nabbing a handful of grapes.
“You’d be surprised,” he grumbled, looking pointedly at me. I was certain that if D weren’t around, Kill would be pulling out much more interesting items from his magic backpack.
I swallowed loudly. The look on his face was wreaking all sorts of havoc on my nerves. Kill sat across from me and started to eat. I tried—and failed—at not looking at him. When he caught me, he shot me his half smile, he totally knew what he was doing to me.
When the remnants of lunch were put away, D asked Kill about a new song they were working on, successfully removing Kill's attention for a moment.
We walked down the trail, reaching the Highlander faster than the walk up, because I didn’t stop and point out everything that caught my eye. Kill and D continued to talk, Kill's arm still around my shoulder—my only consolation for having to share Kill's attention.
They both asked for my o
pinion, making sure I didn’t feel excluded, but I had a hard time keeping up with the topic. My brain kept drifting off to what would have happened if D hadn’t tagged along.
The drive back was quiet. Every so often, Kill would point out some part of a song playing on the radio, explaining that he wanted the JackholeS to do something similar. When we got home, I excused myself so I could take a shower before practice.
Kill watched me walk away, and I could feel his eyes boring into me. The lust-filled stare he shot me when I said I was going to shower silently told me he wanted to follow. In the shower, I took my time, shaving my legs and everything else in preparation for later.
A thrill went through me, thinking of what Kill had in mind for later that night. I took extra time with my makeup and hair, spraying it with extra hairspray so it would stay through work and hopefully look good for my extra-curricular activities.
It was Sunday, and I was ecstatic to have the next two days off, which hopefully Kill and I could spend making up for lost time.
Practice went well, and I was sure a lot of it had to do with the burning intensity Kill and I were exuding when we looked at each other. I tried to bank my lust for him in front of the others, but when he sang, I couldn’t help but come undone from the sound of his voice.
When I was finally dismissed with a pat on the back from D, Jet told me I was so sexy, he’d moved me up in rank in his spank bank. I shook off that image and glanced over at Amy. She looked at me in a what do you want me to do about it? kind of way.
While cooking dinner, I lost my concentration more times than I wanted to admit, grateful there wasn’t anyone to observe my mistakes. When I put the finishing touches on dinner, remarkably uninjured, I covered it, knowing the boys would be done soon.
I ran upstairs to check my hair and makeup making sure it didn’t fall or melt off. My phone rang as I made my way out of the bathroom. I slowly walked over to it, begging with the universe I wouldn’t see Private on the screen. When I saw my dad’s number and the picture I’d taken of him the last time I saw him, my breathing evened out.
“Hey, handsome,” I answered the phone, cringing when I heard my annoyingly-cheerful voice.