***
Abby
Dad made it a point to walk me out to my car after dinner last night. Mom did not. I feel terrible for leaving the way I did, but I don’t want to be the reason they’re fighting. He promised he’d apologize to mom and try to make her understand that it’s my life to do what makes me happy. A confession was on the tip of my tongue when he kissed my cheek, pulling me in for a hug. There’s nothing more comforting than a great big bear hug with the first man you fell in love with. Of course, I cried like a baby all the way home, but I hope that he can get through to her and I can finally put this topic to bed once and for all.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee hits me the moment I walk through Java Joe’s. One reason I love working here—I’m addicted to caffeine. Whether it’s hot, iced, or black. I haven’t met a coffee I didn’t love.
“Hey Abby, the order just arrived. Would you like me to put it away for you?” Sal, my right-hand guy. He’s such a sweetheart.
“Thanks, but I can handle it. I don’t mind putting it away since I can do a tentative order for next week.”
“That’s what I thought. Well, I’m out of here unless you need me to stay.”
“No, go enjoy the grandchildren and I’ll see you tomorrow.” His eyes light up at the mention of his grandbabies, and we spend the next few minutes looking at his new pics. I don’t mind since it brings him so much joy. It’s a constant reminder of why I love this job so much. Since we spend so much time together, we’re like family. When you work ten or twelve hours a day with them, you care about their family and friends.
A few hours later I’ve taken out the trash, put the order away, finished my paperwork, and prepared a new order for next week. I think I deserve a much-needed break. Maybe I should ask the boss. Oh, gee, that would be me.
I’m chuckling as I walk out into the shop and come face-to-face with Loraine. This is the last thing my fragile ego needs today. “Are you here for another frothy latte?”
“Actually, I’d like to file a complaint with the manager.” And here we go. If I were a betting girl, I’d say she had a conversation with my mother this morning.
“Well, that would be me. I wear many hats at Java Joe’s. How can I help you today?” Yep, disgust on her face doesn’t look pretty at all, but I’ll hold my tongue.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. Hmm, your mother didn’t mention you were the manager.” No, I bet she forgot that part. Obviously, Loraine is here to complain about me.
“I hate being one of those cranky customers, but when I was here the other day, you made my latte with milk, not cream. I specifically asked for cream.”
I know it’s rude to interrupt a customer while they're speaking, but I just can’t, in all fairness, listen to this gibberish. “I remember your order, and I used cream since you specifically asked for it. Look, I don’t know what this is all about, but to be fair, I’ll make you one today at no charge.”
She huffs, but I know she won’t refuse something for free. I walk behind the counter and make her the same damn one I made her the other day. Have I mentioned how much I hate it when my mother’s friends come in here? No? I hate it with a passion. “Is that what you like?”
“Yes, this one’s perfect. Thanks so much, Abigail, and have a wonderful day.” I put on my cheerful smile and wave goodbye as she walks out the door. Maria rolls her eyes and we both shake our head as I walk off.
I’m upset just thinking my mom would be so petty as to talk to Loraine about me. Or maybe she didn’t, but in all fairness I don’t understand why my mother can’t accept the fact that this is my job. God, I feel like I take two steps forward and ten steps back where she’s concerned. So not fair that Adam can come and go as he pleases and I run his shop and I get no credit. Maybe it’s time my brother and I have a sit-down next time he has the decency to show his face.
When a few of my regulars come in and I have time to sit with them, I soon forget Adam and Loraine. I love listening to Sue and Chuck brag about their kids and grandchildren. It’s precious and I could listen to them all day.
Since I already know their order by heart, I make it for them and walk it over to the table. “I’m assuming it’s the same thing today, too, right guys?”
“Abby, you’re an angel. Yes, I don’t think it will ever change. Do you have time to look at some pictures? Ben is getting so big!”
“Wow, he looks so happy. Where were these pictures taken? The view is breathtaking.”
“On vacation. Can you believe they went to Aruba and didn’t invite the old folks?” She chuckles.
“I might need to add that to my bucket list, it’s so beautiful.” I spend the next fifteen minutes talking to my favorite couple. Thankfully, for every asshat that walks through that door, there’s a handful of genuinely good people to help me get through my day.
Sloth
“To misuse one’s talent, to be cavalier about it, to set it aside because of fear or Sloth is unpardonable.”
James Lee Burke
6
Lucas
I go to sleep thinking of sex, and like most guys I wake up with a raging hard-on every morning. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m a sex addict. I know this with every fiber of my being since I can’t go long periods of time without getting laid or participating in some kind of physical contact. I’m not ashamed to confess that I masturbate once or twice a day if I’m not entertaining the ladies. Some would say it’s more than an addiction. Perhaps it’s a means to an end where lust has become my only emotion since love is a rare commodity in my family. Unless your name is Landon, of course. Whatever. I’m so over it and I’ve already decided that Saturday will be the last day I step foot on my parents’ property. Or refrain from punching the next person who suggests I see a psychiatrist about said addiction.
My hand glides over my throbbing cock, and as much as I’d love to rub one out, I’m supposed to meet up with the band for practice. Masturbating isn’t my first priority, but coffee is. Caffeine is the only thing that will wake up my sorry ass and get me a tad motivated.
I quickly scroll through my contacts to see if there’s anyone who would take pity on me and bring me one. My finger hovers over Angel for a beat, but I think twice since I don’t have the time or the stamina to keep up with her today. You’d think after dreaming about sex and all things lustful, that coffee would be the last thing on my mind, but right now it’s all I can focus on. So, I tap out a quick text to the only barista who can give me what I need.
Me: If your sexy ass isn’t working, could you bring me a large Americano with a sausage, egg, and cheese on a toasted everything bagel? I’ll do anything you want. And I mean anything.
Abby: Mm, very tempting, but I’m working. You need to come here to get the best coffee and food around town. Breakfast is on me, and I’ll make it with my two little hands just for you. Be here in twenty. XO.
I hesitate for a nanosecond before replying.
Me: I’ll be there in fifteen.
I’m not into the whole hugs, kisses, or emoji thing so I spend my time wisely by showering, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed. I make it to Java Joe’s with time to spare since it’s only three blocks away.
The scent hits me in the face the moment I walk through the door, and I swear my mouth salivates. I’m disappointed when I look from left to right and there’s not an empty seat anywhere. Until Abby pokes her head up and waves me over. God, I think I love this woman but don’t you dare tell her.
I cautiously navigate my way through the crowd so I don’t bump into someone and spill their coffee. Hey, I’m not joking. We New Yorkers take our coffee seriously, and spilling a cup might trigger an all-out war. Have you seen how scary some New Yorkers are first thing in the morning?
“Lucas, I’m honored to have you here so early in the morning.” Abby rests her arms on the table and I have a sudden urge to lean over and plant a wet one right on her pouty lips. It’s a fleeting thought, but I decide against it.
“Thanks, Abby. It’s exactly what I needed this morning.” I don’t waste another minute with small talk, I dive right in. That first sip of coffee goes down so smoothly, my cock twitches in my jeans.
Abby waggles her brows. When she leans forward and whispers, “Well, I’m sure there’s something else you need,” while rubbing her foot against my straining cock, I almost choke on my sandwich.
“You know I’d never turn down pussy, but I really need to get going after I’m done. I’m meeting the band, since we can’t get together to practice on Saturday.” I stuff the last bite into my mouth before I change my mind. Her foot feels so fucking good against my cock that I might explode in my jeans.
“You can’t fault a girl for trying. Besides, I want more than a quickie in the ladies’ room if you know what I mean.” She grabs my empty dishes with one hand and waves goodbye over her shoulder with the other. I take that as my cue to leave, so I adjust myself under the table before hightailing it outta there. I wonder if her last comment was a jab, since I’ve seen her at Distractions a time or two.
I’m half-way to Trevor’s house when my phone vibrates with an incoming text. I swipe the screen and groan.
Willow: Practice is canceled for today. Trevor had a mini emergency with his mom and we’ll meet same time tomorrow instead. Sorry.
Fuck!
A part of me wants to head back to the diner, grab Abby, and spread her legs for a feast fit for a king. But she doesn’t want a quickie, and for me pussies are like chips. You can’t eat just one. They’re so damn addictive and if I eat her out, that will set the tone for the whole damn day. Not that it’s a bad thing, but maybe my time would be better spent writing some new music.
Can’t hurt, right?
By the time I slide open the door, grab all of my shit, and climb the stairs, a sense of peace washes over me. I was born to be a musician. I can feel it in every fiber of my being. It’s what I was put on this earth to do. Some people struggle their entire lives, not knowing what they want to be when they grow up. I can honestly say I knew when I was eight years old—when I held my first guitar. Everything clicked into place like an intricate puzzle that only I could solve. Luckily, my dad recognized my passion and hired the best music teachers he could find to nurture my creativity. Reason being, whenever I’m summoned to attend a grand event at the Knight residence, I’ll shut my mouth and bury my pride. I can totally get away with ignoring my mother, but I’ll do anything for the one man who looks past the poor, struggling musician and sees the potential in me.
So I put pen to paper, pluck a few notes, and the next thing I know the sun is sinking below the horizon. I’ve written two new songs, with lyrics, and now I’m chomping at the bit to play them next time we practice. For the first time in a long time I’m truly happy, and I wasn’t even thinking about sex.
***
Abby
What the hell happened? Did I rub all over Lucas like a horny teenager? Ah, yeah, I did! Why didn’t I pee on his leg in public and call it a day? I acted like one of the slutty bitches from the club, the exact same ones that I hate with a passion. The kind that strut around the club like a dog in heat and hope and pray that someone chooses them for a quick fuck in the bathroom stall. And, wouldn’t ya know, I had to open my big mouth about a quickie in the ladies’ room. What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m so damned embarrassed, I can still feel the heat coloring my cheeks after I grabbed his dishes and headed into the kitchen. If he didn’t call me before, he sure as hell isn’t going to call me now. Dammit! The sad fact is he only texted me for his coffee fix and was just sporting some morning wood.
I know Lucas is a player. A man-whore. Someone I should stay far away from, but I can’t. No matter how hard I try, he pulls me in with just a glance, a smile, or some smart-ass comment. He’s fire and I’m ice, and I’m afraid of melting into a puddle at his feet. If not for just purging him from my system once and for all. Like ripping off the bandage and letting the wound heal. I know deep down if I let him have power over me, it will not have a happy ending. For the life of me, I can’t let him go. Sad truth is, I know he fucks around with so many other women and that should have me running in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, it pulls me in even closer.
Could I be competing with the other girls to prove I’m worthy? I have no idea, but I don’t like feeling weak and vulnerable. I’m concerned, but not enough to let go. Right now, we’re just fuck buddies having a good time. I can accept it for now, since I have no spare time for a lasting relationship. I tried, but guys want all the attention. They don’t want to share me with my crazy hours. Lesson learned. I moved on.
I wipe all thoughts of Lucas clean from my thoughts as the line forms out the door. I need to get my head in the game and focus on work and not the sexy front man who I know would break my heart in a hot second.
The rest of the day flies by without a hitch. I’m grateful, since keeping busy has dulled my humiliation by leaps and bounds. I’m thankful that no one mentioned my flirtation, so I’m hoping they saw nothing strange going on. The boss getting it on with one of the customers at the corner table. Yeah, not good for business. Since I’m not in any rush to get home, I sent everyone on their way so I can close the shop myself. Apparently they have plans on a Friday night, but god knows I have none. No sense in punishing them for me not having a life. I thought it would be my good deed for the day.
After counting the tills, balancing the drawers, and making the deposit, I do one more walk through to check the backdoor and lights. I’m so grateful Adam hired a cleaning crew so we don’t have to do the restrooms or mop the floors. What a tedious job that was after working a full shift. The crew normally gets here early, so they’re finished by the time Theresa arrives to begin baking. I set the alarm, lock the door behind me, and curse like a trucker when I realize I walked to work today. Dammit! It’s only a few blocks away, but it’s crowded since it’s the end of the work week for most.
Pushing through the crowd, I make it home in twenty minutes. Not bad, but I’m starving and there’s no way I’m going to cook and dirty all those dishes. Take-out sounds good, but with this traffic, Uber Eats will get here when I’m sound asleep. A peanut butter and jelly sandwich will just have to do.
After showering, I make my sandwich and a coffee—don’t ask—and then curl up on the sofa with my latest romantic read. Well, it’s got tons of sex in it, of course, hence the reason I’m desperate to finish it. What’s not to like about a sexy alpha male who takes what he wants? He kinda reminds me of a certain someone. Care to take a guess?
While most young adults my age are out drinking and partying on a Friday night, I’m curled up in my jammies. I’d like to think it’s because I’m a responsible adult, but truth be told, I like my own company. I had to learn the hard way since I couldn’t trust those who I thought were my friends. Beth and Cheryl are a little different. We met in college, and although they bust on my ass, I tolerate their shit because I know it’s not dished out maliciously.
I’m engrossed in my book when a text comes through.
Speak of the devils.
Beth: We’re at the club and we need you to pick us up. Too drunk to drive, I can get it tomorrow. Please and thank you.
And this right here is the reason I very seldom go clubbing. They could easily call an Uber, but I’d never refuse to pick them up. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen. I shoot them a text.
Me: Give me twenty and sit tight. You two owe me big time.
Beth: XO
So, at midnight I’m driving down to the club in my jammies since I refused to change. Fingers crossed, I can drop them off and still be in my bed before my alarm goes off for work tomorrow. This is the reason I like my boring life. No headaches and hangovers for this girl, unless it’s because of lack of sleep. I’m going in. Wish me luck!
7
Lucas
Today’s the day I’ve dreaded all week long. Normally I love Saturdays, beca
use The Sinful Seven has several gigs lined up at the local watering holes. It’s where it all began, and we love paying it forward to all of our diehard fans. Thankfully, it worked out that we had nothing scheduled for this week when Landon dropped the bomb about a mandatory party at the Knight residence. I’m dreading every single minute, but it’ll be my last appearance. Hopefully, my dad understands why hanging out with my family just isn’t my thing.
I inwardly cringe when I make the left turn into the long and winding driveway, with the looming trees blocking the mid-afternoon sun. It creates a false illusion of night that’s so black, it reminds me of my mother’s cold and lifeless heart. Wow, I should jot that down. It could be the beginning of an outstanding song.
There’s no time for another thought when the sun reaches between the trees and causes me to go blind for an instant. Fuck, I forgot to wear my shades! I slam on my brakes, just in the nick of time before hitting the poor, unsuspecting valet. He jumps back onto the sidewalk, seconds before my car comes to a complete stop. Oops, my bad.
I feel like a suit as I climb out of my car wearing a pair of black chinos with a gray V-neck sweater. This is about as business casual as I can get, and don’t even ask me about my shoes. I don’t own a pair of loafers and I never fucking will. Instead I settled for a pair of black boots that need a good polish but will do in a pinch. I flip my keys to the valet, mumble an apology, and go in search of my father. Lo-and-behold, I bump into Landon instead.
He looks me up and down. “Is that the best you could do?” This, right here, is the reason I don’t want to party with my family. My best is never enough.
Lucas: A Rockstar Romance (The Sinful Seven Series Book 1) Page 4