PS... Trust Me (TAT: A Rocker Romance Book 8)

by Emjay Soren

  “You know she might give you a chance this year.” Cal says with humor knowing I am about to go full stalker.

  “She knows you exist; you just need to let her know she does.” Cassa says and I nod bored. Candy and Cassa have made it clear Carrie thinks I am hot, but I want more, and I won’t risk it all if it isn’t going to be different with her.

  “Yeah yeah, but I want it all. Gotta find that groove.” I say and slap their hands before hugging Cass and Jenny goodbye.

  “Well, it better be a packed venue if you are gonna waste another summer in the grease pit.” Cal says and I roll my eyes. Dude is way to obsessed with the band. He eats, drinks and sleeps TAT.

  “I am single track minded this summer Cal. Besides, we have the fan base on lock. This year it’s one hundred percent about getting a girl.”

  “Yeah? Well, get all of em to the shows while you’re at it!”

  I just keep walking to my truck. Yeah, I can fill our shows easily, but I must keep my head in the game with Carrie. I can’t overwhelm her. I have known her too long to think it would happen fast. Carrie and Noah are creatures of their own nightmares. We all know enough because of how tight we are, but something tells me that whatever secret they are hiding is one that none of us want to truly know.

  With Carrie, it needs to be a slow burn before the flames.

  *

  I was pissed.

  That sums it up. I beg Topher, a fellow employee at The Joint to give me his shift in hopes of getting some down time to chat with Carrie, but the fucking place was packed. The minute I walked in the back door I saw that all hell had broken loose when the fryer went down. Seth, the Becketts uncle ran The Joint and he was at the grill station boiling oil for scone orders and threw me up front.

  I get why, I had a way of keeping the peace. Even the local oldies loved me. I had lived in Gig my entire life. Everyone over thirty knew and loved my gramps and everyone thirty and under loved me. It didn’t suck, but of all the days to be in fast food hell… I hadn’t seen Carrie since her birthday last fall. I snuck into Seattle and dropped off her gift. We both agreed that it was our secret because we both know that Noah is a psycho about Carrie.

  I have waited eight months, prepared myself to go for it and then this shit show happens.

  Once the rush is over and Seth has the fryer working again, I take a few minutes to lean beside the drink machine where Carrie is. It isn’t hard to talk to her or be casual, it’s natural. I know her too well to feel nervous or shy.

  “So, when is the next gig?” She asks, before I can say anything. I gotta admit I am thrown she is asking anything about our gigs. Noah has been hell bent on keeping TAT a separate life that doesn’t touch Carrie. I understood why back in the day, but she will be twenty-one in a few months and the jig is up. She isn’t as impressionable as she once was.

  “Well…” I say, giving my best smile, the same one I use way too much when hitting on a fine woman. “Am I allowed to give up such details about TAT or does that go against some kind of sibling code you have with Noah?” TAT is the acronym for our band Thick as Thieves. People think it was chance, it wasn’t. We knew damn well we wanted tattoos in our brand.

  “I’m twenty years old, Chad. I think Noah’s thunder has finally been stolen.” I roll my eyes at that because she has no idea that Noah will never take anything lightly where Carrie is concerned. Hell, it has taken me this long to even attempt it. I’m not afraid of Noah, I respect him. I know he and Carrie went through some type of rotten hell with their dad. I respect the guy for taking on his fourteen-year-old sister and raising her. He has done a hell of a job too. I just don’t know if Noah will ever be able to let her go. Sometimes I wonder if Carrie wants him too. Their bond is intense. Not in a creepy way… it’s almost like survival. They need one another to breathe.

  “I wouldn’t say that Carrie.” I say, trying to be light when I know it is anything but. A chick comes up to the counter and I am forced to help her even though all I want is more time with Carrie.

  The chick at the counter ordered some milkshakes and started flirting, and honestly, I am so fucking bored of this same conversation expelled a trillion different ways. It never changes and it is always fake, but I do my duty as the lead and flirt back. I wink and toy with the top of the girl’s hand. “Show’s tonight sweetheart. Broken Spoke, we go on at eight.”

  She giggles and I force myself not to roll my eyes. “Maybe we can hang out after the show? I hear you get pretty amped up after?”

  Awe, the joys of memories from years of fucking Randoms after our shows. How pleasant to experience this hell right in front of the only girl I want to amp me up. Fucking winning!

  “We will have to see. Make sure you tell your friends. Cover is five dollars tonight and dollar beers.” I figure it always helps to build up the bars that have always been loyal to us. We have permanent residency at The Broken Spoke, The Aloha House and The Bar named Sue. We busted our asses to get the respect of those bars. We want them making money, so they stay loyal to us too.

  “So, tonight then?” Carrie says after I finish up with the fangirl. I caought her looking at me a little longer than a friend would, and it gives me hope. I decide to ogle her right back. Her long ass blonde hair is tucked in a messy bun under her hat and her smooth legs look fucking insane in her tight short shorts. Her cupids bow mouth always looks perfect, a slight shine to her lips no matter what, and they smell like peach pie. I don’t know what she uses but know it makes it harder every time I am close and want to kiss her.

  “I heard you telling your fangirl.” She says and rolls her eyes as I scan her body, slowly making my intent clear. Her words make me laugh because a snarky jealous Carrie is sexy as fuck.

  I lick my lips and nod. “Broken Spoke.”

  I see her blush when she realizes I am eyeing her and can’t hide my smile as she tries to hide it.

  “We go on at eight.”

  “I heard that too.” She says, her back to me and even though I can’t see her face, I love the affect I have on her.

  And then she shocks me.

  “Is that really the type of girl that gets you hot?”

  She looks at me then, ever the strong woman she is and even though she’s in a full blush she asks me that with conviction.

  I give her the only answer I can right now. I don’t trust these waters yet and need more from her before I give her everything, I have in my get-the-girl tool kit. “She doesn’t cool me down, that’s for sure.”

  “Charming.” She sneers and I bite my cheek to keep from laughing. She is jealous.

  “Do I detect a note of jealousy?” I ask with a knowing smile.

  She makes this growl sound before rolling her eyes in a huff. “Please! I have been watching fangirls like her for the last five years. They’re all the same from one girl to the next. They flock around Noah like desperate little flies, and if they aren’t chasing his dick then they’re hanging on his every word for his image alone. Desperation taken to a whole new level. Fangirls and tatterflie’s, they’re all the same.”

  Yep! Jealous. Good, I want her wanting me. God knows I damn near killed her ex every time I saw him touch her last year.

  “Tatterflie’s? Really?” I laugh at that because it’s true. Knowing Carrie gets it makes me hot for reasons I can’t name. Maybe just maybe she sees me beyond that bullshit too? I look at her with my full attention. I want this conversation now. I need it. “That’s good and true. I didn’t know you were paying attention.”

  She shrugs and her blush is still there, but its light. “How could I not notice? Noah used to make me check in at the shop before I left for college. I see them waiting for a chance at you or Noah. It did nothing for me but make me want to make sure I’m way better than that.”

  Color me curious, she has been paying attention. “So, what, you hate tattoos or something?”

  “No. I have a few of my own but I don’t flaunt them in hopes it will enhance my sex appeal. They’re mea
ningful to me.”

  I am stock still standing there just looking at her, like I am seeing her for the first time. Yeah, I knew Carrie was different than other girls, but the emotion she speaks with about tattoos and their meaning only intrigue me more. I am sprung on this girl, desperate for any nugget of information she will give just so I can know her, truly know her.

  “Have you always been like this?” I ask, my voice low because I suddenly feel ashamed for wanting something so perfect when I have been lying in filth.

  “Yes. You just never paid attention, it’s not easy to stand in someone like Noah’s shadow and be noticed.”

  I shake my head and laugh without humor, trying to shake the feeling that it is me exposed and not her. I must leave this conversation to get my bearings. I wanted to invade on Carrie, slowly yeah but to use my charm and flirt like I always do. It backfired though. All she did was make me see what I already knew. I deserved so much more and at the same time I don’t deserve her.

  “Doubt that.” I mutter softly.

  “What?” She asks, her eyes on me and she knows she got under my skin.

  After debating on kissing her here and now or falling back on my player ways and doing what I always do, I settle on the only thing I can. The only thing that makes sense. “Damn Carrie.”

  I don’t wait around because I cannot breathe. I walk off and out the door without so much as a word to Seth.

  Carrie Beckett scares me.

  Chapter Two

  Chad

  “That’s it? You leave her hanging like that?” Gramps says and shakes his head. I just got through replaying what happened the other night at The joint with Carrie. “How many times do I have to tell you that there is no shame in your game.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh taking a seat at our kitchen table. Gramps is sixty, but pretends he is twenty-five. He is proud of ‘getting tail’ at his age. I’ve lived with him my whole life and as much as he likes to think he is young, he isn’t. He is all I have and possibly the best wingman ever. He raised me as best he could with what he had. He was widowed early and after my mom and dad leaving me to him… he did his best. I’m not a fuck up and have my shit together mostly so I call it a win.

  “Gramps, talk sixty.” I say just to piss him off.

  He huffs out a laugh. “I’ll act sixty when I’m eighty and pulling fifty-year-old tail.”

  I laugh out loud at that. He means no disrespect. He buried the love of his life and has no problem admitting he will always be single. “Stop it, Gramps. You sound your age calling it that.”

  “And what should I call it? Fucking? Sex? Making love?” He draws out the making love comment in a high pitch voice. “It’s all the same, son.”

  I just shake my head knowing it is what it is. “I know there isn’t shame in my game. I am single. I never got mean or shitty. Girls know the score, but with Carrie…” My words trail off because I can’t yet find them. It’s why talking to him now. He seems to always have the answers that I need.

  “Carrie knows you.” He says seriously and I nod. “Chad, I was twenty-five when gran died. It took me until I was almost thirty to even think of dating again. Your dad was young, and I needed to focus on more important things than pussy. Gran got me; she knew what I was thinking before I did. When she died, I lost that part. I was secure knowing she had my back. I had to learn late in life what I needed to be happy without her. Marriage and monogamy worked for me with her and until I find it again, I am what I am.”

  “Are you saying Carrie is the one?” I asked. Maybe it should have scared me to think that, but it didn’t. “I knew at eighteen Carrie was different, I just didn’t see her then like I do now. She was so broken, so was Noah. They only trust each other Gramps. I don’t know if I can interrupt that.”

  He nods with a frown. “Yeah, those two have a lot of shit in their past and it means they are far more mature than anyone at their age. There are times I see Noah and that thousand-yard stare, and the boy seems older and wiser than me. But that doesn’t mean they can’t love. Maybe they’re a little broken so the voids can’t be filled yet, but there is no capacity to love. There is with everything else.”

  I knew all too well the capacity of Noah. He danced in the dark and liked it. He has always had this creepy affair with drugs. At times we were scared we would have to fire him from the band. Times over the last four years where he almost lost everything including Carrie. The drugs make Noah think he is healed when really the destroy him more.

  “I can’t get this deep Gramps. It’s barely nine and Noah will be here soon enough to give me my piercing. I don’t want this vibe in the air.”

  Gramps nods and stands to rinse his coffee cup. “I hear that boy.” He turns and folds his arms as he looks at me. “What the fuck you piercing now? Not your dick I hope?”

  I choke on my coffee. “Jesus, Gramps!” I laugh and wipe up the mess of coffee on my chin and chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I swear.”

  “Wrong with me? I know what you guys do in the shop. Men everywhere wanting earrings in dicks. Its repulsive.”

  I just laugh. “It’s not an earing, they’re gages.” I decide to mess with him. “It enhances the pleasure for the woman, Gramps. Think of all that tail you get knowing you could give them just a little more…” I leave the seed and walk away.

  “They have me in there, they don’t need more.” He says as I walk away laughing.

  “Noah, good to see ya boy.” I hear Gramps say as he lets Noah in. I was in the kitchen finishing setting up. Noah was piercing my lip and after I was going to do some shading on the tattoo on his left arm.

  “Harvey.” Noah says as the door closes. “How’s the fish been?”

  “Always biting.” Gramps says, and I stop setting up to listen. Gramps isn’t big on fishing. “But I’m a catch and release type. Can’t keep em after the catch.”

  I groan knowing he’s talking about women. Fuck, he really is an old ass player. The OG if you will.

  “Don’t blame ya. Monogamy is for wildlife.” Noah talks a bad game. He is completely in it with Candy. He just won’t admit it.

  “What’s up?” He says to me when he walks into the kitchen.

  “Listening to Gramps talk like a legend.” I say and laugh knowing it irritates him when I act like he has no game.

  He rolls his eyes at me and sits opposite Noah, who is now setting up his kit. “So, how’s that sweet sister of yours doing?”

  Noah nods and looks at Gramps with a smile. “She just got home the other night. Nailed her finals like I knew she would.” Noah talks with pride and I get it. We are all proud when one of us succeeds.

  “You did right by that girl Noah. You need to bring her along with you this summer so I can see her.”

  Noah looks at me pointedly before threading the needle with the hoop. “I would if I thought she was safe around you two creeps.”

  Gramps laughed and patted him on the back. “I don’t cradle rob like my grandson here. I’ll keep her safe.”

  I swear to God I would kill him for that. I see Noah smile, but the humor isn’t there. He knows exactly what gramps meant. It is no secret I have always had a spot inside for Carrie, knows that it morphed into something else the last two years or so.

  “She is safe around me. You’ll have to face it at some point.”

  Noah doesn’t even flinch at my words as he marks my lip. “Never gonna sit back to see it, Blake.” He says right as he shoves that needle through my lip with no hesitation. He hooks the ring through my lip with the ease of the professional he is and sits back to remove his gloves.

  He expects me to fight like we do every time he reminds me Carrie is too good for me. I don’t. I let the time pass with gramps chatting him up as I work on his arm. The first hour passes then the second and now it is just Noah and I with the sound of my machine and Breaking Benjamin playing in the background.

  “Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you to keep Carrie safe. I do. In fact,
I will hold you to that fact.” He says, shocking me with his words.

  “Dude, I’m many things but a douchebag I am not. I wouldn’t hurt anyone I care about.” I pick my words carefully because I’m anxious where he is going with this. Noah doesn’t ask for help, ever.

  He nods, still silent.

  “What’s up?” I ask and pull back stopping my machine. It was time for a breather anyway. I wipe Noah’s arm as he uses his lips to pull a Camel from his pack.

  He nods toward the back door, smoke hanging from his lip. I follow him and wait for him to light it and take a few drags.

  “Seriously, Noah. What’s going on? We gotta be worried?”

  “Look, you know our dad is bad news. I have proof of what a piece of shit he is and it’s why he let me take Carrie and disappear.” He says and pulls another long drag of his Camel.

  “Yeah, I know that. What’s going on? He trying to make waves? Because this big ass harbor is ours, so we control the waves.” Anyone would be in denial if they tried to mention our names in Gig Harbor with anything less than a pleasing tone.

  “That won’t matter to him. He’s corrupt as fuck and carries a badge. My concern is he has been trying to reach out. The trust meeting is coming up fast with Carrie in her final year at UW and almost twenty-one The Joint is pretty much ours. He knows we have to face him in that meeting, and I don’t trust him to not fuck shit up for us.”

  I hear him and see him, and it is two different things. His face shows nothing, calm as can be. His tone though controlled, still reeks of desperation and with Noah that is telling. Think of a duck on a pond. Beautiful and calm on the surface as it floats along the water. Underneath is a chaotic mess of feet struggling to stay afloat. That’s Noah always has been. He will never let you see him sweat, but he sweats none the less.

  “He is making waves then?” I ask, worried now for both. I know he was abusive. Noah has been fucked up so many times in my presence and when he is high his lips are loose.