by Jayda Marx
Our moment of bonding was interrupted by Noah’s scream from down the hall. Brooks and I both leapt from the sofa and hustled toward the sound as Noah emerged from their bedroom with wide eyes and shaking hands.
“I can’t believe it,” he said in a small voice.
“What is it, Sunshine? What’s wrong?” Brooks quickly took his fiance in his arms and I patted his back. “Talk to us; who was on the phone?”
Noah took several deep breaths before stepping back and explaining, “That was Randall Murphy.” I looked at Brooks, who shrugged, and we both turned back to Noah. “Okay, do you remember Hunter Simms, the country singer at the Independence Day celebration?”
We both nodded. I wasn’t there, but I’d heard the story from a very proud Brooks. Plus I knew Hunter’s name; his music was on the radio all the time. “Randall is Hunter’s manager. He got my number from Hot Tracks.” I nodded again; Hot Tracks was the recording studio where Noah won sessions. “He said he called because the band which was supposed to open for Hunter’s tour had to pull out of five shows. Their lead singer has to have their tonsils out and won’t be able to sing. He…” Noah stopped to run his trembling hand through his hair. “He offered me the opening spot.”
I whooped and hollered as Brooks tipped his head back and yelled, “Fuck yeah!” before wrapping Noah in another tight hug. “I’m so damn proud of you, Sunshine.” They shared a sweet kiss, and once they parted, I took Noah in a hug of my own.
“Congratulations, man. This is huge; you’ll be headlining your own tour before long.” I believed that with all of my heart.
“Thanks, Jay. My god, I can’t stop shaking. You want to know the craziest part?” Brooks and I both nodded. “Hunter asked for me specifically. He remembered me from the contest and said I’d pump up the audience.”
“That’s incredible,” I beamed.
“I’ll just be singing cover songs and it’s just a timespan of two weeks and it doesn’t pay much, but travel expenses will be covered for me and my plus one, and most importantly, I’ll get exposure. Between this and the demo tape Hot Tracks is putting together, this could be it.” His eyes swam as he looked up at Brooks. “This could be my big break.”
“And you’ll be living your dream.”
“You’re my dream, Brooks,” Noah corrected, and my dad looked as if he was about to melt on the spot. “I don’t want to do this without you. The first show is in Nashville next weekend. I know it’s not much notice, but-”
“I promised I’d follow you anywhere, and I meant it,” Brooks cut him off, cupping his cheeks in his big hands.
“Good, because I told Randall my one condition was that my fiance had to have backstage passes for all five of the shows.”
Brooks’ lips spread into a proud grin. “I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too.” They kissed again, but Noah jumped away suddenly. “Oh god, my meatloaf. I need to make sure it didn’t burn.”
Brooks and I laughed as Noah hustled into the kitchen. “I guess tonight ended up being a celebration after all,” I told my dad, who was still beaming in the direction Noah disappeared. His face fell at my words.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I got so excited by Noah’s news that I forgot about your troubles.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “We’ll tell Noah about what happened and he’ll understand that you don’t feel like celebrating tonight.”
“Don’t you dare tell him,” I argued, and Brooks’ eyes widened. “Noah’s been there to support me since the day I met him, so I’m going to support him now. This means a lot to him and I’m not going to rain on his parade tonight; I’ll still be jobless and pathetic tomorrow.”
Brooks smirked and put his arm over my shoulders again. “You’re a good man, Jay.”
“Sorry, but I can’t return the mushiness until I’ve got at least four beers in me,” I teased.
Brooks snorted and removed his arm to grab the case of beer. “Well then let’s go take care of that.”
*****
I would not have pegged my dad as an emotional drunk. But after we finished dinner and polished off half a case of beer, Brooks’ floodgates opened. He told me how proud he was to have me as a son, and how much he loved me. Then he thanked Noah repeatedly for loving a “fat old bastard” before telling him how pretty he was. Noah was feeling a buzz too and ate that shit right up. He combed through Brooks’ hair and described a string of filthy things he wanted to do to him.
“Okay well on that note, I think I better be going,” I announced, but swayed a bit when I stood up from their small dining table.
“You can’t,” Noah slurred with wide eyes. “You’re drunk.” I was far from drunk; it took more than a few beers to knock down my big body, but it also wasn’t a good idea for me to drive. “You need to sleep here. If you stay, I’ll make you breakfast. I’ll make those...um...what are they called? The little cakes you make in a pan?”
“Pancakes?” I asked dryly, and Noah nodded.
"You're so smart," Brooks insisted. "How the hell did I make such a smart son?"
"I like pancakes," Noah piped up as if he wasn’t the one who suggested them in the first place.
"I like your face," Brooks countered before attacking him with kisses. Oh, good lord.
“Mm, take me to bed, honeybear.” The two of them staggered and giggled out of the kitchen and down the hall.
I rolled my eyes and got to work by throwing away our empty beer cans and packing away the leftovers from dinner. I was an undeniable neat freak and the mess around me was giving me anxiety.
Once everything was wiped down and in its place, I rounded through the living room and down the hallway, stopping at a linen closet to grab a blanket to cover up with on the sofa for the night. I was right in front of Brooks and Noah’s bedroom, and I couldn’t ignore the moans coming from behind the door.
“Oh baby, I love the feel of your fat cock in my ass while I ride you,” Noah’s voice called out.
Nothing had ever sobered me up faster than overhearing two of my dads going at it. I threw the blanket back into the closet and hustled down the hall with my hands over my ears, though I still heard Noah’s cry of, “Open your mouth, baby; I’m gonna try to shoot my cum in!”
Nope! Nope, nope, nope. I grabbed my keys from the coffee table and sprinted out the front door, desperate to run away from the noises, though they’d already planted a disturbing mental image that I hoped wasn’t permanent.
Once outside, I rested my hands on my knees and took in a few deep breaths to calm down and clear my mind. Maybe I was being a little immature about the whole thing; I mean, I guess I knew in the back of my mind that the couple had sex, but I never actively thought about it. And I certainly wasn’t prepared to hear it happening first hand.
At any rate, the shock scared away any lingering effects of the alcohol, and I was confident I could drive without any problems. I folded myself behind the wheel of my black Corolla and puttered down the driveway.
Chapter Three
Jay
I was right; the alcohol in my system didn’t affect me as I drove down the road, but the trip home was providing me with something equally as distracting; time to reflect on the reality of my day.
My visit with Brooks and Noah took my mind off of my troubles - especially when I heard Noah’s exciting news - but now that I was alone, they were creeping back into focus.
I’m jobless. I wasn’t a big fan of change, so Lewis and Taylor was where I planned to work until retirement. I was comfortable there and enjoyed what I did. Now I had no prospects and no plan. I’d have to start my career all over again.
I’m lonely. I’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a few weeks, and the most recent one was over five years ago. I’d wasted almost four of those years fantasizing about a man whom I could never have. I wasn’t even on his radar.
But was that wasted time? Even though my dreams of Mr. Taylor didn’t come true, surely they gave me some insight as to
what I wanted. No woman had graced my thoughts for that time, after all. Still, my mind was scattered and I couldn’t deny my third problem; I’m confused.
The bright lights of a building to my right caught my attention. I briefly turned my eyes from the road to read its name spelled out in neon letters; Vic’s Place. Its other fluorescent advertisements of ‘Beer’ and ‘Liquor’ told me it was undoubtedly a bar. I’d never noticed it before; I tended to stay focused on the road and not what was around me, but my wandering thoughts caused wandering eyes.
I wasn’t ready to go home with my thoughts, and I was in the mood for something stronger than what I’d already drank, so I pulled into the parking lot. Before I exited my car, I pulled out my phone to send a quick text to Brooks. I didn’t want him to worry when he woke up and saw that I’d left, but I knew telling him I’d gone to drink again would only make him worry more. So, I split the difference and typed out:
11:03PM: Hey, I sobered up and decided to head out. Tell Noah congrats again and I’ll see you guys soon.
I tucked my phone away and crossed the parking lot. The moment I entered the building, my eyes landed on the bartender working behind the counter and my feet stopped on their own accord. Holy tease in a t-shirt.
The man was gorgeous; tall and firm with arms covered in tattoos. I’d always been a fan of body art and goddamn this guy carried it well. I was too far away to make out much about the designs beyond the fact that they were stunning. But the most stunning things about the man were his trimmed beard and slick pompadour, which were both silver. Not gray, but actually fucking silver, like he’d been handcrafted by the gods themselves. If I thought Mr. Taylor was hot, this man should be in flames.
Shit. The thought of my previous boss made my stomach knot up. Maybe I should leave; drooling over men has only given me trouble. I'll just stop at the liquor store and go home to drink myself into oblivion.
But just as I made my decision to bolt, the bartender looked up and we locked gazes. His lips slowly stretched into a wide smile and he nodded his head in greeting.
Oh, I should definitely leave. But my feet didn't get the message. They carried me right up to the bar and plopped my ass onto a stool. He took a step towards me and my breath caught in my chest. But before he approached, a woman’s face popped into my line of vision. She gazed at me with bedroom eyes and a salacious smile.
“Hey there, handsome,” she greeted with a wink.
“Um, hi,” I replied, trying to peer around her huge mound of blonde curls to see the bartender. But every time I moved my head, she followed me with hers.
“You’re looking awfully lonely tonight.”
“No, I’m fine.” Take the hint, lady!
“Are you sure?” She slowly walked her fingers up my arm. “Because I’ve been told I’m excellent company.”
“Look, lady; I’m trying really hard not to be a dick here, but I’m not interested.” As I spoke, I flicked her hand off of me. I didn’t appreciate her touching me without my consent. It didn’t matter what gender a person was; nobody should be touched without permission.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she snapped, snarling her lip at me. “You should be grateful I even looked at you!”
“So, wait; I’m not handsome when I say no?”
The woman scrunched up her face and put her finger in mine. “Listen here you little-”
“That’s enough, Jill,” a honey-smooth voice rang out. I turned towards the sound to find the sexy bartender right in front of me. He gave the woman a firm look and jerked his head to the side, motioning for her to move along. It was flattering that he came to my rescue. The woman gave me one last glare before flipping her hair in my face and stomping away.
“Sorry about her,” the bartender said with a gentle smile. “She’s here a lot, and is attracted to fresh meat.”
“Yeah, well, my meat’s not interested,” I grumbled. Oh god, Jay, you just mentioned your meat! Before I could form an apology, the man tipped his head back and laughed a sound that made goosebumps pop up on my arms.
“It’s okay; my meat’s not interested either,” he shrugged, and I shook my head to clear away the mental image.
“Why, are you married or something?” I had to know; there was a 99.9% chance this man would be the next guest star in my fantasies, but only if I had a clear conscience. I was done lusting over married guys.
“Or something,” he replied with a wink. What the hell does that mean? “So, what can I get you?”
Oh, right, a drink. I hadn’t even thought about it since I walked in. I wanted something stronger than beer, but I still wanted it to taste good. “Can I get a shot of Fireball?” I loved cinnamon, and a handful of shots of that shit could knock me right on my ass. I had an Uber app on my phone, so I wouldn’t have to worry about driving home later.
“You got it.” He placed a shot glass on the counter and filled it to the brim with caramel colored whiskey. “Would you like to start a tab?”
“Sure.” I dug out my credit card and passed it over.
“Jonathan Fuller,” he read aloud as he inspected my card.
“I go by Jay,” I offered dumbly. He surely didn’t care.
“Good to meet you, Jay.” He held out his hand and I blinked at it in surprise for a moment before giving him mine. His skin was soft and warm, and once again I got goosebumps. “I’m Victor Sutton, but I go by Vic.” He dropped my hand and the warmth faded away before I realized what he said.
“Vic? Is this your place?”
“It is,” he smiled. “I usually just handle the business and numbers side of things, but my scheduled bartender called off tonight and I couldn’t find coverage, so here I am.”
“I’m a numbers guy too,” I beamed, until the memory of my day settled over me again and my body deflated. “Or...I was.” Vic gave me a concerned look, but before he could say anything, someone on the other side of the bar called out their need for a refill.
“I’ll be back around,” Vic promised. “If you need me, just…” he leaned in closer to finish, “Call out my name.” He winked again and as he left, a garbled whine sounded from my chest. Once I got my mind out of the gutter, I downed my spicy drink in one swallow.
*****
Vic
As I waited on my other patrons, I couldn’t keep myself from glancing at Jay. The man was gorgeous, and he’d had my attention from the moment he walked into the bar. He was tall - maybe even taller than my six foot two frame - and stocky with broad shoulders. He had soft-looking black hair and scruff on his jaws, but what I found the most alluring were his gray eyes. I’d never seen anyone with gray eyes, and they were stunning.
Every time I peeked down the bar at Jay, he was looking right back at me. At first I thought he just needed another drink, but each time I caught him staring, he snapped his eyes away.
I wondered what his story was. Before I started this business, I tended bar for many years and learned to tell a lot about a person in a short amount of time. From my quick interaction with Jay, I’d discovered that he had a sassy streak from what he said to Jill, a great sense of humor from his ‘meat’ comment, and pain and confusion in his pretty gray eyes. I wanted to know more.
Everyone appeared content at the moment, so I wandered down to the other end of the bar, stopping in front of Jay. “How’s it going, fireball?” His lips tipped up at the name before he shrugged.
“I’m okay, but I’ll take another shot.”
“Of course.” I topped him off again and folded my arms onto the bar. “Can I ask you a question?” Jay swallowed hard before nodding. “What did you mean you were a numbers guy?”
“Oh.” He knocked back his shot and breathed through the burn. He held out his glass and I refilled it as he explained, “I was with my accounting firm for years. I loved my job, but found out today that my company is downsizing and I got the axe.”
“Jesus.”
“Yep.” He threw back shot number three and held out his gla
ss. I filled it up again and he asked, “Actually, can you just leave the bottle?” The poor guy was really torn up.
I nodded and placed the bottle by his elbow. “I’m sorry about your job, Jay.”
“S’not your fault,” he slurred. The liquor was hitting the big guy hard and I wondered if he’d had some to drink before he got here. “It’s Mr. Taylor’s, that sexy son of a bitch.”
I blinked in surprise at his admission. “I’m guessing Mr. Taylor was your boss?” He tossed back shot number four and nodded. “Were you two...involved?”
“Just in here,” Jay replied, tapping a finger to the side of his head. “He didn’t know I liked him. I mean, I think I liked him. Maybe I just liked looking at him. He was hot, but not as hot as you, though.” I scrubbed my hand over my mouth to keep from smiling. Jay was opening up and I wanted to hear what he had to say; especially if it was about me being hot.
It was something I hadn’t heard in a long time. My last relationship was years ago, and ended terribly. Since then, no one had shown any interest. I understood why; I was only a few months away from turning fifty and I was looking (and feeling) my age. My hair had turned gray long ago, I seemed to discover a new ache or pain every day, and my body was nothing like it used to be. Running a business took precedence over gym time and convenience foods took the place of a healthy diet. I wasn’t overweight, but what was once a body of solid, defined muscle was now a lump of nothing special.
“I think that whiskey is skewing your judgement,” I teased, but Jay shook his head so hard his eyes swam.
“No way; I thought you were hot before I took a drink. Look at all of those tattoos; I wanna lick them.” When he stuck his tongue out and wiggled it, I grabbed another shot glass from behind the bar, poured it full of his whiskey and tossed it back.
“Hey Vic, can I get another beer?” a patron called from the far end of the bar. Great timing.