“We’ll see about that,” I say, ignoring the icy tongue of fear licking at the back of my neck. Gene isn’t as powerful as he thinks, and I’m a talented, hard-working chef. Anyone would be lucky to hire me to run their kitchen.
But maybe I won’t have to work for anyone else ever again. Maybe I can scrape by on savings until I get my new place up and running or get a part-time job doing something other than cooking to make ends meet while I throw myself into finalizing my business plan.
No matter what happens, and no matter how much this afternoon has sucked, by the time I empty my locker into a trash bag I stole from the janitor’s closet, I’m feeling happier than I have in months.
After saying swift goodbyes to the few members of the staff I call friends—and covertly encouraging them to keep an eye out for help wanted advertisements coming from a new restaurant in the near future—I practically dance out the door into the back alley.
I pull out my cell, needing to share the big news with someone, but even I’m a little surprised when my thumb automatically jabs Cutter’s name on my contact list.
I’m even more surprised when he answers on the first ring, “H-hey,” I stammer, breath rushing out. “I thought you were on your way out of town.”
“I am. In ten minutes. Grabbing gas, beef jerky, and pixie sticks for the drive.”
“Gross,” I say, laughing as I round the corner and head for the employee’s parking lot four blocks away. I’m not going to miss this walk, either. Especially not making it at midnight in December in the freezing cold.
“I’m not going to eat the gas,” he says dryly. “Just the beef jerky and pixie sticks.”
“Still gross. But not as gross as my boss trying to make me cook Trevor the Terrible’s recipes and then firing me when I refused.”
“What the fuck? Are you serious?”
“Well, I quit before he could officially fire me, but that’s basically what happened. But I’m okay. I’m elated, actually. It felt so good to walk out that door for the last time.” I pull in a deeper breath, drawing in the crisp spring air. “I have no idea what I’m going to do for work until I open the restaurant, but I don’t even care. I feel like celebrating.”
“Then let’s celebrate, princess. Come with me to Portland.”
My heart flips at the thought, but after a beat, I shake my head. “No, I can’t. You have work stuff.”
“I do, but we’ll still have plenty of time to celebrate between. We can grab a nice dinner downtown, hit a few bars for late night happy hour, and stay up past your bedtime. It’ll be great.”
I nibble my lip. “Well, it’s not like I have to be at work tomorrow…”
“That’s the spirit.” Cutter laughs, a husky sound that makes me tingle all over, assuring me spending the night with him is a bad idea. But we’ll be out of town, so there won’t be any need to put on the “happy couple” act for the people of Hidden Kill Bay. And as long as I avoid kissing Cutter or touching Cutter or staring into his dreamy green eyes for too long, I should be okay.
Bad idea, Theo. You should go home. Now. Remember what happened the last time you and Cutter had a few drinks and stayed out too late…
Oh, I do, inner voice, but I’m feeling too alive to stay on the straight and narrow right now. I’m tired of making safe, boring choices. I need excitement in my life, even if it comes with a dash of danger on the side.
“So where am I picking you up?” Cutter asks, his voice warm in my ear.
“My place. Fifteen minutes,” I say. “I just need to change clothes and grab a coat for later.”
“Sweet. See you there. And for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. You deserve better than that kind of bullshit.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. “See you soon.”
I do deserve better than that kind of bullshit—from Gene and Trevor and the other jerks at my old place of employment, but from myself, too.
Why have I been assuming Cutter isn’t feeling the things I’m feeling? He sure hasn’t seemed as excited about seeing Megan tomorrow as I thought he’d be, and he can’t keep his hands off me when we’re together.
And he brought me a milkshake, damn it! If unsolicited ice cream doesn’t say “I’m starting to catch some feels,” what does?
I race the last block to my car and speed home, deciding to change into something other than jeans and my best going-out sweater. Sometimes, a girl has to play to her strengths, and I know exactly which of mine are most likely to bring Cutter to his knees—my authenticity, kindness, and sense of humor, of course.
But also…boobs.
Because let’s get real—even if Cutter likes me for me, he also likes my boobs for what they bring to the table.
And I like all the things he brings to the table.
And maybe by the end of the night, we’ll be on a date for real. After walking out of the job from hell, almost anything seems possible.
Chapter Fourteen
Cutter
The drive to Portland flies by—fueled by easy conversation and pixie sticks—and we make it to the hospital with ten minutes to spare.
I slam out of the Beamer, grab my guitar from the trunk, and toss Theo the keys. “I’ll be an hour, maybe ninety minutes. I’ll text you when I’m on my way down.” I point a finger at her, motioning up and down her foxy-as-hell body as I add, “But call me if you need me to defend your honor.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t a bad part of town, and I’ll be at a coffee shop not a bar.”
“Still. That dress is…” I trail off, soaking in the sight of her in clingy red fabric and knee-high black boots, wondering again how I’m going to keep my hands off her when all I want to do is peel that dress off with my teeth.
“Nice?” she prompts, a teasing glint in her eye.
“Dangerous,” I murmur. “If any of the coffeehouse dweebs forget their manners, tell them you have a psychotic boyfriend coming to meet you.”
“Don’t worry. I can handle myself. Or…I could come with you,” she says, lifting hopeful brows. “Hold your hand for moral support.”
“I don’t need moral support. I told you, it’s just a few routine tests, and I’ll practice in my private, spoiled-patient holding area while I wait.” I wink. “An hour. I’ll be back before you know it, and then we’ll get the fun started.”
“I’m already having fun,” she says, smiling as she drops the keys into her purse. “And I really don’t mind coming with you. I’m not a fair-weather friend, you know. I’m here for the boring stuff like routine tests, too.”
“I know.” That increasingly familiar warmth curls behind my ribs again. “But it’s not a big deal. I’d rather you get a coffee, relax, and keep enjoying your first night of freedom. I’ll be back soon.” I back toward the hospital entrance. “Start thinking about where you want to eat. Anywhere at all. I’ll play the rock star card and get us a table.”
She shoots me a thumbs-up. “Okay, rock star. Try not to get mobbed in there.”
“I’ll try.” I grin and turn to trot in through the sliding glass doors. A part of me is tempted to cut this meeting short and get back to Theo ASAP, but I know how much Veronica looks forward to our visits.
I look forward to them, too. When I first met V, her doctors didn’t think she’d be around nine months later. That’s why the guys in the band and I threw a mini concert in the kids’ cancer ward last summer. Seeing Lips on Fire play live had been Veronica’s wish for the Wishes Come True program for terminal kids.
But since then, she’s started responding to treatment, and if all goes well, she might be going home this coming summer.
“Knock, knock,” I say softly as I stop at the open door to her room, grinning as V and her mom, Judy, both turn my way with matching smiles. “How’s my favorite rug rat?”
Veronica tosses off the blanket covering her legs and swings them over the side of the bed. She still looks awfully small for a nine-year-old, but she’s got more meat on her bone
s and color in her cheeks than when I visited last Christmas. “I’m amazing! I’m learning to play the guitar, just like you. My fingers are strong enough now!”
“What? That is amazing. So are we clear to rock out?” I ask, glancing at her mom as I cross the room. Judy nods, beaming with the kind of joy and gratitude maybe only people who have been to hell and back with their kid can fully experience. “You guys are all clear,” she says. “Veronica took a nap this afternoon, so she’d have lots of energy left to visit.”
“I didn’t take a nap,” V whispers as she collects her tiny guitar case from the closet. “I just closed my eyes and rested. I was too excited to sleep.”
“That’s okay. I won’t tell,” I whisper back, holding out my hand for a fist bump. “So where are you chord wise? You know once you get G, C, and D, you’re pretty much set to play any rock song known to man or beast.”
She grins. “I have G, C, D, E, and A. I’m working on F, but it hurts my hand a little, even with the small guitar.”
“F is hard,” I agree, shedding my jacket and pulling up a chair as V scrambles back onto the bed with her instrument. “But I have a few tricks I can show you.”
“Rad,” she says, her eyes bright with excitement as we tune up.
She plays me the two songs she’s already learned, and I offer her a few tips for smoother strumming before we move on to learning a few of Lips on Fire’s easier tunes. Finally, we settle on “Only One,” Colin’s ode to Kirby, and I teach Judy the harmony part so she can sing along with V once I’m gone.
“That song,” Judy says, pressing a hand to her chest with a sigh as we finish. “It gets to me every time. I can’t wait to see Daddy this weekend.”
“Gross, Mom, no mushy stuff.” Veronica rolls her dark eyes before she leans in to add under her breath, “My mom and dad are super lovey-dovey. It’s so embarrassing.”
“But also cool.” I shrug. “Love is pretty awesome.”
“I guess, but I’m never going to fall in love,” V says with a sniff. “At least not until I’m forty. I have to travel the entire world first, and I don’t want to rush it.”
“Good call.” I grin at Judy over V’s head. “I’m sure your mom is okay with you waiting to kiss boys until you’re forty.”
“Perfectly okay,” Judy says with a laugh.
V and I play through our set list one more time, but by the time we get back around to “Only One,” her fingers are slower, and her eyes are getting heavy. After the final chord, she offers her instrument to her mom with a sigh. “That’s all I’ve got for today. But it’s more than I had yesterday.”
It’s their “Getting Better” mantra, and my cue to say my goodbyes before Veronica passes out. “Awesome playing with you, V. Keep practicing and you’ll be ready to join the band by the time I get back in August.”
“I might be home by then,” she says sleepily as Judy draws the covers back over her tired kiddo. “Will you still come visit me at home, Cutter?”
“Sure thing, man.” My chest tightens as I send out a prayer to whatever merciful gods might be listening, hoping I get the chance to see V happy and well and out of this hospital for good.
“Double rad,” she says, her eyes sliding closed.
“Thank you,” Judy mouths, her eyes shining.
“My pleasure,” I whisper back. “Hang in there, Mama. I’ll call to check in soon.”
Snapping my guitar back into its case, I grab the handle and swing out of the room, my eyes automatically fixing on the clock in the middle of the wide hallway. It’s only been seventy minutes, but I’m already jonesing to see Theo again.
It doesn’t look like I’ll have to wait long.
I slow when I spot the lady in red sitting in the waiting area outside the nurses’ station. Before I can speak, Theo rises from her chair and swiftly closes the few feet between us.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her forehead wrinkling. “I was scared that you secretly had cancer or something awful you were keeping from the people who care about you because you hate sharing your feelings. So I followed you. But then I saw you with your friend, and I realized you were probably okay. You’re okay, right? And you’re not mad at me for spying on you?”
“I’m okay,” I confirm. “And I’m not mad, no. I just wasn’t sure if Veronica’s mom would be okay with me bringing a friend to visit. I’ve always come alone.”
Theo’s gaze softens. “I totally get it. And it’s lovely that you do this. I’m sure it means the world to that little girl.”
I shift uncomfortably in my designer shoes, the ones that cost enough to feed a dozen kids in Honduras for a week or more. “I’m still an asshole. Visiting one sick kid doesn’t change that.”
Theo shakes her head. “Nope. It’s too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“I’ve seen behind the scumbag curtain, and now there’s no going back. I know you’re a good guy, Comstock. No doubt in my mind.”
Eyes narrowing, I step in until there’s only a whisper between us and the warmth of Theo’s body caresses me through my jeans and tee shirt. “There should be.” I bring my free hand to her hip where I fist my fingers in the clingy red fabric. “I’m only nice when it feels better than being bad. And bad still wins most of the time.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Do you believe that I was daydreaming about ripping this dress off you all the way to Portland?” I ask softly, holding her gaze as her eyes go wide. “Or that I think about fucking you pretty much all the time? Or that I’d make you come your brains out in the janitor’s closet right now, in the middle of the pediatric cancer ward, if you gave me the green light?”
She swallows hard, and whispers, “Boundaries.”
“Fuck boundaries. I don’t want boundaries. I want you naked and under me and begging me to get you off again.”
She shudders and shakes her head. Even a week ago, I might have thought she was repulsed, but I know Theo better than I did. And I know that look in her eyes. It’s the one she gets when she’s handed a milkshake she can’t wait to devour.
And right now, I’m the milkshake.
“So this is what we’re going to do, princess,” I continue. “I’m going to take you out to celebrate your liberation from that shit job of yours, and then we’re going to get a hotel room and celebrate your liberation from the silly idea that you shouldn’t fuck your friends.”
Her lips part, but I press my finger to her mouth, stilling her protest before it can make its way out into the world. “And if you don’t like it,” I add, “then we can go back to being platonic buddies tomorrow. All I’m asking is one night to show you how good I can make you feel.”
“I’ll have to…think about it,” she finally says, her lips moving against my guitar-calloused fingertip in a way that gets me hard.
But then, just about everything about Theo gets me hard.
“You do that,” I say with a wicked grin. “And I’ll do my best to get you to stop thinking so much. We’ll see who wins at the end of the night.” I lean down, whispering into the perfect shell of her ear. “Spoiler alert—we’re both going to win. By the time we check into our room, you’re going to be begging me to rip your clothes off.”
“We’ll see.” Her breath is hot against my neck.
“That we will,” I agree, shifting my head until my lips hover above hers. “How much do you want to kiss me right now?”
“Not very much at all,” she says in a sexy little voice that sends another surge of heat straight to my dick.
“Liar, liar, wet panties on fire,” I tease.
“My panties are not wet.”
“Prove it. Last one to the family bathroom is a rotten egg.”
“We’re in a hospital,” she says with a huff. “There are sick people down the hall.”
“So you’re admitting that you lied,” I press. “Is that what you’re saying? And before you start with the boundaries stuff, you never said your panties were conversa
tionally off-limits.”
She lifts her chin, eyes slowly dragging up to meet mine. “You’re the worst, you know that?”
“So you’ve said. But I’m not sure I believe you anymore, princess. About that or your drenched, soaking, very wet panties.”
She bites her lip. “Fine. You’re right. I lied. Can we change subjects now?”
“Yes.” My grin stretches wider. “But do you need to change your panties first?”
Theo slaps me in the gut, and I grunt-laugh. “Sorry,” I say, still grinning. “Couldn’t help myself.” I shift, avoiding another slap as I put my arm around her waist and guide her toward the elevator bank. “So where are we going to eat? I heard the place with the giant lobster tank in old town is good.”
Theo shakes her head. “No, I can’t stand to see my food alive before I eat it. Let’s try Honey Badger. It’s close to Central Oyster Shack, so if it’s bad we can always get fried oysters after.”
I punch the down button. “Nope, can’t do that. Oysters are an aphrodisiac, and I don’t want you saying I cheated. I want you to beg for my cock while you’re completely in your right mind. So that also means only two drinks—three if we spread them out over the whole night.”
She looks up at me, bemused. “You’re very bossy and way too comfortable talking about your cock in public. But fine. No oysters. And only three drinks. But I have conditions, too.”
“What are those?” I ask, stepping into empty the elevator behind her, thinking of all the damage we could do to each other on the way to the ground floor if she’d quit fighting the chemistry and jump me already.
“No more talking about my panties.” She stands up straighter. “And if at the end of the night I decide I want to go home, you take me home. No trying to talk me into making a different decision. And you only make me ask once.”
I nod, my smile fading. “All right. I can respect that. But you’re not going to want to go home. If you decide to go home, it will be for other reasons. I know what you want.”
Bang on Loosely Page 13
