by Brynne Asher
“When my place of business is on the line, I do not give warnings. But that doesn’t matter. I want to know why you were so hell-bent to get into my bar. You weren’t drinking, dancing, or hanging with friends. It was a miracle I spotted you by the wall. You were doing everything you could to blend in even though—with all that is you—you couldn’t blend in if you tried.”
I clamp my mouth tight. Most people don’t know why I’m really here or why I chose to leave a family I love to attend a private university far from home. No one knows I couldn’t care less about early childhood development, despite my love for kids. I’m certainly not going to tell him any of that.
“What?” he eggs me on. “Don’t you feel bad anymore?”
I close my eyes and let my head fall back on the door that’s supporting my weight.
“You with that guy?” he asks. I open my eyes and frown, not understanding the question and he elaborates, “The singer.”
I shake my head quickly. “No. I don’t even know him. He was doing a favor for a friend of mine who was pulling a favor for me.”
He lowers his voice. “Favor?”
“Are you going to let me out of this bathroom?” I ask.
“Not until you tell me.”
I sigh, wondering if it really matters anyway. I don’t know him and even if I did get to know him, he clearly doesn’t like me anyway. “Fine. But please don’t tell the Maysons about that night. I love their kids and I really love working for them. I don’t want them to know I snuck into a bar with a fake ID.”
“I grew up with the Mayson boys. I can promise you, they’ve done way worse and I know this because I was doing all that shit with them. Now, tell me your secret, little one.”
I slump against the door and give it up. “That song? The one you and I … um, you know, listened to while we stood together?”
I wanted to say touched, connected, bonded, shared the most special moment of my first twenty years, but that might be weird.
“What about it?”
“Well…” My voice trails off, he leans in close, and I swear I feel the heat from his body blanketing mine. “I sort of, you know, wrote that song.”
He doesn’t move. Those blue eyes that seem normally sharp, jagged, and piercing turn soft, reminding me of a perfect clear day with very little breeze and maybe some butterflies flitting around.
“You wrote that song?” His tone matches mine, making the silence deafening in the little space he’s locked us into.
I nod.
“You wrote those words.” It’s a statement.
I nod.
“And the music.”
I nod again.
“And you wanted to see it performed?”
I nod, but this time add, “It was the first time one of my songs had been played for an audience.”
He says nothing. His gaze falls over my messy hair, my makeup-free face, and the skin-tight ribbed tank I wear out in public as much as I sleep in. And his gaze is hot, greedy, and fierce, causing my mouth to go dry.
The moment I lick my lips and clench my thighs, his eyes dart to mine. It’s now I realize this man made of muscle, tattoos, and all things rough around the edges, could ruin me in a way I’d beg for more.
Because when his lips land on mine and he buries a hand in my hair, I become lost in him. He presses my body into the door and I’ve never felt smaller. As his other hand slides down the side of my body and his tongue presses through my lips, I realize sharing my dream come true with this man now seems insignificant.
Everything seems small compared to this.
His kiss is intense, hard, and commanding. I slide my hands up his abs and pecs, loving the feel of him through his thin t-shirt.
When he drops a hand to cup my ass adding a delicious squeeze that can only be compared to pure bliss, a pounding on the door rocks us both out of our moment.
He pulls back enough to stare down at me, his chest rising and falling, filling the air between us with his heavy breath. We don’t say a word and he shakes his head, demanding I ignore the intruder on the other side of the door.
Another three bangs ripple down my spine and this time a voice bellows, “Who the hell’s in there?”
The man in front of me—who I realize I have no idea what his name is even though I’ve stood in a clinch, argued, and now, enjoyed the best kiss of my life with—presses his lips to mine before lifting his head and growls, “Find another bathroom.”
“Link? Is that you?”
His blues drop back to me. “Yeah.”
I fist his shirt tighter and whisper, “Your name is Link?”
“What was that?” the man yells.
He lifts a hand and gently presses a finger to my lips to shush me, making me frown.
“What the fuck?” the voice goes on. “Are you wanking off in there during a kids’ birthday party?”
My frown dissolves and it’s all I can do not to laugh, but he presses his finger into my lips harder, shaking his head. He does this with a smirk playing on his full lips I’m now newly acquainted with.
Whoever’s on the other side goes for the doorknob and the door starts to rattle. “Open the fucking door. All the other bathrooms are taken and you’ve been in there for-fucking-ever.”
Link leans into the door and my eyes go straight to his biceps that flex with the action. He presses his lips to mine for one more taste before pushing away and pulls me behind him.
When Link swings the door open, I peek around his shoulder and recognize the owner of the voice immediately. Asher Mayson is standing there staring at me. Then his eyes go to the man I now know as Link. He shakes his head and crosses his arms. “Fuuuuck.”
Link raises a hand, palm out. “Don’t say a word.”
Asher looks at me and then back to Link when he adds, “Nico’s gonna fucking kill you.”
“I’ll kill you first if you open your fucking mouth,” Link bites back.
Asher’s head falls back and he looks at the ceiling.
“Come on, little one.” Link grabs my hand and pulls me out of the bathroom.
I’m not sure what just happened and I really hope no one commits murder, but more importantly—and selfishly—I really hope I don’t lose my job with the Maysons. As Link whatever-his-last-name-might-be pulls me through the entryway and out the front door, a different sort of hope swells from somewhere deep. During our short time in the bathroom, I put my job at risk and I actually shared my dream out loud with a stranger. But most importantly, I think I just put my heart on the line, because right now, I’d do anything for a rewind button to experience that kiss all over again.
I really hope Link Whatshisface doesn’t turn out to be an asshole.
Chapter 4 – The Song
chaotic chords
that match the beat of my heart
Avery
Last night when Link pulled me out the front door of the Mayson home, he reached around to my ass and slid my cell out of my back pocket. After he sort-of-asked, sort-of-told me to unlock my phone, he added his number and texted himself.
He informed me he had to leave so he didn’t cause a brawl at a kids’ birthday party, because in his words, “this shit is gonna spread fast and if Nico has a problem with his best friend pursuing his babysitter, it’ll go down.”
Then he kissed me to Cinderella’s castle and back while standing in the front yard as the sounds of kids screaming while beating the shit out of a unicorn piñata floated from around the house.
When I went back to the party, I only spoke to humans under the age of six. I absolutely did not look at Asher Mayson because I had a feeling he was blabbing to Nico. And why wouldn’t he? He’s fired every babysitter he’s ever come into contact with and I bet they didn’t even make out with anyone in the powder room at his kids’ birthday parties.
I’m so fucked.
After I escaped as quick as I could without being rude, I got a text from Link. This is how it went:
Link – Come t
o The Knot tomorrow. 9am.
Me – I have class at 9.
Link – Skip it. I have something for you. Something I think you’ll like.
Me – I like good grades and my professor is a hardass. She even calculates attendance into the final. She won’t care if I’m on my deathbed or if my hamster has diarrhea. She’s that much of a hardass.
Link – Wait. You have a hamster?
Me – No. It was just an example of what a bitch she is.
Link – That’s a relief. Your grade will be fine. I’m working tonight, but I want to see you.
I don’t say anything because I really want to see him, too, but I really need a decent grade in this class and it’s hard enough as it is. Going to Vandy is my ticket to living in Nashville and if I screw my grades, my parents will whisk me home faster than a Carpino can plan a family meal.
Link – I’ll see you in the morning?
All I can think about are his blue eyes, his tattoos teasing me from underneath his clothes, his biceps, his hands, lips…
Link – Avery. Say yes.
Oh, what the hell. I’ve broken every other rule this week, I might as well go for it.
Me – Fine.
Link – Fuck. Will it freak you out if I say I can’t wait to get my lips on you again? And not just your mouth.
Holy crap. If he means freak out as in making my panties wet and my nipples hard, then, yes, he’d be correct.
Me – Yes. I think it might.
Link – Then never mind. I’ll see you at 9.
And that was it.
Needless to say, I couldn’t focus on homework or sleep last night, so I did what I always do. I pulled out my notebook and poured my heart out into a jumble of words that made no sense until I started rearranging them. I shuffled words until three in the morning before finally getting some sleep and had to stop for a huge coffee before driving across town.
I turn into the parking lot of The Knot for the second time in my life, only this time it doesn’t look as forbidding as it did in the deep of night. Now, in the bright morning’s rays, it looks old, and, if it weren’t for the signage and cool as shit artwork featuring a Celtic knot on the side, one might think it’s abandoned.
Stopping for coffee has made me late. I still can’t believe I’m skipping my child psych class because I’m such a rule follower. The thought of getting in trouble is as disturbing as the Real Housewives of anywhere missing a Botox treatment.
Those women love their Botox.
But here I am, skipping the class with the meanest professor I’ve ever had because Link—the man who kissed me crazy in my employer’s powder room—told me he wanted to see me. Now that I’m here without the fuzzy feelings he gave me while his lips and hands were on me, I’m second guessing my decision.
I might be new to the bar scene, but I know bars aren’t packed this time of day and doubt they’re even open for business. My guess is I’ll be alone with Link.
I’m doing everything my mother warned me not to do.
I almost spill my coffee when my phone rings. Looking down at the screen, I see it’s my cousin, Sophia, and almost don’t answer. But I know Sophia—she’ll keep calling until I pick up.
“Hey. What’s up? I’m on my way into class,” I lie.
“I’ll be quick,” she says, making me roll my eyes. No one in my family is quick when it comes to conversation, especially Sophia. “Some friends and I hoodwinked our husbands into a girls’ trip. Majority ruled—we’re coming to Nashville!”
I finally look away from the The Knot to concentrate on my phone call. “You’re coming? When?”
Isabella is in the background babbling away and I can tell Sophia is shifting the phone as she wrangles her toddler. “Not soon enough. I’m looking into concert tickets and who’s playing at the Ryman so we can pick a date. That’s why I’m calling. Do you have any ins to get us good tickets or know what bars we should hit for live music?”
The irony is not lost on me that I’m sitting in front of a kickass bar that just the other night played my music that no one in my family knows I’m writing. Turning off the ignition to the Honda Civic my parents gave me the day I turned sixteen, I can’t keep the frown out of my voice as I throw my keys into my purse and do my best to lie, even though I’m a shit liar. “Like I can get into bars yet. And I might live in Nashville but I spend all my time on campus or babysitting. What makes you think I have an in for anything in this city. I haven’t even been to the Ryman yet.”
Sophia huffs. “You’re the only person I know in Nashville. It was worth a try.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” I toss back just as something catches my eye. The heavy slab of steel to The Knot opens, but it’s nothing compared to seeing Link standing in the doorway with his eyes on me. “I don’t have any ins. Hell, I don’t even have any outs. I do want to see you when you come. I miss everyone.”
“Ah,” her voice softens. “I miss you, too. I’ll let you know when we get a date set. I’ll get you a ticket to the Ryman if we can land them. My treat. I know you love your music.”
“I do love music,” I utter as I watch Link lift one of his tattoo-muscled arms to crook a finger at me, making me shiver. Like an insect drawn to a light, I pull my purse up my shoulder, grab my coffee, and without taking my eyes off him, I climb out of my car. “I’d love that.”
“I’ll see you at Thanksgiving, right? When we were at dinner with your parents the other night, it was all your mom could talk about—having all her kids in one place again.”
I start toward Link and Sophia is my only connection to reality as I move to a man I hardly know. I should stop and rethink this. I should promise Sophia I’ll see her at Thanksgiving, head back to Vandy to sneak into the back of the small lecture hall so Dr. Eubanks doesn’t yell at me for missing her class. I should spend the drive back catching up with my cousin on all Carpino news and I absolutely should not be obsessed with a man who’s probably too old for me. My being here could get us both in trouble with Nico Mayson.
But I don’t stop until I come toe-to-toe with the beast of a man whose eyes soften every edge on him.
Link’s lips curve up on one side as his eyes move down my body before making their way back up to catch mine. My stomach drops, my heart clenches, and my head spins just a little from being so close to him again.
Oh hell—now my panties are wet.
I ignore all talk of Thanksgiving and decide to throw caution to the wind. “I’ve gotta go, Soph. I’m meeting someone.”
I hear nothing for a split second before her voice turns nosy when she bites, “I thought you were heading into class?”
I feel my eyes go big and Link doesn’t say a word, but his free hand does drop to my hip in a possessive grip.
“I mean, I am on my way to class but I’m also meeting someone first. You know, on the way.” I’m not sure it’s humanly possible to concentrate on both Nosy-Sophia and Touchy-Feely-Link at the same time.
“Is it a guy? Did you meet someone?” Her voice raises an octave. “You have to tell me!”
Link must have heard—which doesn’t surprise me as loud as Sophia yelled across the phone—because his smirk turns into a grin.
“Gotta go,” I mumble, feeling his big hand on my hip and liking it there just fine. But I’d like it more without my cousin jabbering on in my ear.
“No, don’t hang up. You have to tell me!” she demands.
“Walking into class. Love you and can’t wait to see you. Tell everyone hi for me and give them hugs. Especially the kids. I miss them. Tell them we’ll watch the Peanuts Thanksgiving together—the Mayflower one. It’s the best and totally underrated.”
“Screw Charlie Brown. Tell me about this guy—”
“Love you—bye.” I quickly press end, tossing my phone into my bag, but not before silencing it. She’ll never give up.
“Hey.” His deep voice comes at me low and smooth, making my insides gooey. “Charlie Brown was on the Mayflower?”
I take a sip of my coffee to catch my breath before answering. “See? No one knows about the Peanuts gang coming over on the Mayflower. They even throw up over the side from motion sickness and everything. It’s the best one.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t move or let go of me.
I tip my head back to get a good look at him through my aviators. “Aren’t you going to card me?”
He smiles. “And knowingly let someone underage into my place?”
I try to be cool but of course it comes off awkward and weird. “You’d rather pretend? Like, role play?”
He narrows his eyes. “I don’t role play anything. I am who I am and I don’t mind pushing the boundaries. Besides, the bar’s closed.”
“Does that mean there are no added perks to sharing that moment with you in the bathroom? I thought you’d at least sneak me in the backdoor if there was a band I want to hear.”
He narrows his eyes but doesn’t refute me. “You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you?”
I shake my head. “I’m really not. Sneaking into The Knot was my first attempt at breaking the law and it made me crazy nervous. I still can’t believe I’m skipping class.”
He smirks and lets go of me, holding the heavy door open while gesturing for me to enter. I dip under his arm and his hand moves to the small of my back as I look around the vast space. It’s a different world compared to the other night.
The sun is peeking through the dirty windows that are situated close to the ceiling and the big industrial lights are on. The only noise is coming from a small radio sitting on the bar playing hair band music from the eighties and a group of voices laughing and bantering.
“That’s my cleaning crew,” Link dips his head and speaks low. “They’re done and on their way out.”
The group of six men and women loaded with cleaning supplies are making their way toward the door we just came through.
“You want us to lock up?” one of them asks Link.
Link shakes his head. “Nah, we’re good.”