15 Minutes

by Bethany Lopez

  The drive home was quick and uneventful, and once I arrived, I found comfort in being in my sanctuary. After I put on my pajamas I grabbed the book I’d left on the nightstand and went out to settle into my chaise.

  I opened the book, eager to escape into someone else’s love story, but paused with the book on my stomach as a vision of Brock on stage stole its way into my mind. My body shivered as I remembered the feel of his lips on my ear. The brush of his whiskers against my cheek. No one had ever been so brazen with me before, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but one thing was for certain. He’d made me feel something that no one ever had before. Pure lust.

  I shook my head to clear it, eager to forget the episode and move on. I settled lower onto the chaise and opened it up to the page I’d bookmarked, willing myself to forget about the handsome man with light-green eyes that had seemed to look though my hardened exterior and directly into my soul.

  Chapter 3 – Brock

  Once our set was done, I grabbed a towel off the table in the bar’s back room, wiping the sweat off of my face and neck. It got hot under those lights, but man … was it worth it. The crowd had been exceptionally receptive tonight, and the session had been fucking fantastic. This was why I kept going, even though my body wanted to drop. The feeling I got when feeding off the fans while playing was the greatest high I’d ever felt. Second only to sex … Because, let’s face it, nothing felt better than sex.

  “I’m gonna head out there,” Brendan said after taking a deep swallow of ice-cold water. “I’ve got a couple ladies lined up.”

  “A couple?” Brady asked with a shake of his head.

  Brendan just grinned and winked at him, then disappeared out the door, eager to get to his adoring fans.

  I tolerated the groupies. Though it was flattering, the way they threw themselves at us just because we got on stage and played, but Brady hated it. He loved the music, and us, but he hated being in the spotlight.

  Brendan thrived on it. If there was ever a man born to front a band, it was my youngest brother. He had the pipes, the charisma, and the look, and lord, did the ladies love him. At twenty-four, he was still trying to find his place in the world, so I wasn’t worried about him. Brendan was nothing if not honest, and he always made sure the groupies knew he was in it to have fun for as long as it lasted. As long as he was upfront with them, I let him live his life without giving him a hard time.

  Brendan still lived with me in our parents’ home. When they’d died in an accident, I was seventeen. A senior in high school and nowhere near ready to be a parent, but there was no way I was going to be separated from my brothers, or have them moved from the only home they’d ever known. I’d petitioned the court for custody and won. I was almost done with school and a few weeks away from eighteen, so I took early exams and graduated without walking. Instead I started fixing cars at a garage during the day, and painting houses at night.

  I became not only an older brother, but a mother and father to Brady and Brendan, and I’d learned responsibility the hard way. Now I owned my own business, and gave Brendan a place to lay his head while he went to culinary school. Brady had moved out a few years ago, but not far. He’d bought a house just down the street, so he often stopped by for meals, or just to grab a beer. Brady’d always needed his space, unlike Brendan and me, who were always happier with people around us.

  My brothers were the most important things in the world to me. Everything thing I did was with their future in mind. When my parents had passed, the only thing they’d owned was our house, so I wanted to preserve that part of them and ensure that they were never forgotten.

  “I’m gonna head home,” Brady said, pulling me from my thoughts. “You stayin’?”

  “Yeah.” I gave him a nod as I threw the dirty towel in a bin. “I’m going to go out and see what TJ and Cal are up to.”

  “Later,” Brady responded with a lift of his chin.

  I followed him out, veering right toward the bar as he turned to the exit.

  “Excuse me,” I said with a chuckle to the gaggle of girls that were surrounding Brendan, my eyes lifting to search the room as I broke the threshold.

  My gaze flitted through the bar, but there was no tall brunette with a tight little ass in a pencil skirt. I hadn’t really believed that Victoria would hang around for the show. She didn’t strike me as the rock and roll type. But, damn, I couldn’t deny that I was disappointed. The little taste I’d gotten, and her reaction to it, promised that underneath that uptight exterior was a woman who had yet to tap into her brazen sexuality. And, God help me, I wanted to be the man to help her do it.

  I lifted a chin in acknowledgement when TJ’s hand lifted to wave me over to their group.

  When I neared my friends’ table, I saw that the top was littered with empty pitchers, martini glasses, and steins. I looked at my friends, who were all happily watching me approach, and asked, “Did you save any for me?”

  Sasha sauntered over to give me a hug, and smacked my cheek with a juicy kiss. “You guys rocked as usual!”

  “Calm down, Red,” TJ said with a chuckle for his fiancé, as his arm snaked around her waist. “You don’t want to give Brock the wrong idea.” This he said with a wink.

  “Oh … Phst,” Sasha said, her words slurring before she broke out in giggles.

  I grinned at my friend and asked, “You guys have a ride home?”

  “Yup,” Shelly answered wryly, with a dramatic gesture to her now swollen stomach. I wasn’t sure how far along she was, but you could definitely tell she was pregnant. Her face had a permanent smile, and her hand rubbed lazily over her bump.

  I took in the large group and asked, “What’d you do, rent a bus?”

  Cal looked up at me, his face embarrassed, then put his hand over his mouth and mumbled, “We mout a ban.”

  “What was that?” I asked with a laugh.

  Cal dropped his hand and replied softly, “We bought a van.”

  When I started laughing, visions of Cal driving around in a wood-paneled van dancing in my head, he shot me a pained expression, then promptly flipped me off. This only caused me to laugh harder, and pretty soon, TJ and Scott were chuckling along with me.

  “That’s awesome,” I finally managed to say when I stopped laughing. “Are you gonna showcase that at the shop?”

  “Shut up,” Cal said darkly as he grabbed his beer and took a swig.

  “Oh, stop it,” Shelly said with a grin for her husband. “He’s just being dramatic. She’ll be here before we know it, and I know we’ll want more, so it was practical to buy a van now, rather than wait.”

  I chuckled again at Cal’s grimace, but hid it when Shelly’s grin dropped and she shot me a warning glare. Damn, her moods really could change on a dime. At the last poker night, Cal had us dying with tales of Shelly and her pregnancy moods.

  “Speaking of the baby,” Gaby said, coming to my rescue. “Did you get the invitation we sent?”

  “Invitation?” I asked, unsure of what she was talking about.

  I noticed Scott roll his eyes, then focused on Gaby, whose hand had come up to slap me on the forearm.

  “The invitation to Shelly and Cal’s joint baby shower,” she replied, exasperation filling her tone. “Sasha and I mailed them out last week.”

  “Oh … I thought you’d mailed that to me by accident,” I replied honestly. “I didn’t think you actually meant to invite me to a baby shower. Aren’t those usually a chick thing?”

  This earned me another glare, this time from Gaby and Sasha, as well as Shelly. I looked around at the guys for help, but by the look on their faces, I knew they’d already accepted their fate.

  “It’s a co-ed shower, for guys and girls,” Gaby explained. “So we invited Cal’s friends and Shelly’s friends. We’ll all celebrate their baby together.”

  It sounded like a fucking nightmare, but I smiled at her, all while trying to figure out a way out of it.

  “We’re gonna play poker in the
kitchen,” TJ leaned close to me and whispered loudly, causing Sasha to shoot him a death glare.

  “No, TJ, you’re going to be with the rest of us, playing guess that baby food … and stuff like that.”

  “The fuck I am,” TJ responded with a scowl, and I decided it was high time for me to get a drink.

  “I’m hitting the bar,” I said out loud, to no one in particular.

  I was waiting for my beer when I felt someone come up behind me. I turned, ready to give an excuse to one of the girls, but was relieved to see it was only Scott.

  “Hey,” I greeted him with a smile. I’d never thought he and I would be friendly, let alone friends, but I’d gotten to know him over the last few months and realized he was actually a good dude.

  “Hey,” he replied, signaling the bartender to get him a beer as well. “You aren’t going to be able to get out of it, you know. Not unless you come up with an illness or something.”

  “Shit,” I responded with a grin.

  “Hey, Scott,” I heard a voice say from my left. I turned to see a short girl with spiky hair, a tiny skirt, and a shredded Whiskey Heat shirt.

  “Nice shirt,” I murmured. She smiled, but her eyes were locked on Scott, and she didn’t look too pleased to see him.

  Scott looked surprised to see her, but managed a smile as he replied, “Hi, Abby. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” the spunky girl replied, cocking a hip as she glared at Scott. “Looks like you’re doing just peachy yourself. Victoria and I saw you hanging out with your new girlfriend.”

  At Victoria’s name, my curiosity peaked, and I leaned back, taking a swig of beer as I watched their exchange.

  “Victoria’s here?” Scott asked, looking around the bar before bringing his eyes back to Abby. “How is she?”

  I knew that things hadn’t ended well with Scott and Victoria. Shit … when things ended, it usually wasn’t well, but Scott had never said anything derogatory about his ex-fiancé. At least not in my presence.

  “She was here,” Abby explained. “But she left once she saw you and your friends. Victoria may act tough, but my sister has feelings, just like everyone else. Maybe you should consider that before you go flaunting your relationship with the woman you left her for.”

  Sister? I looked at the tiny, spirited woman in front of me and tried to imagine her and the straight-laced Victoria being hatched from the same parents. I couldn’t see it.

  “First of all,” Scott began, his nice-guy expression no longer in residence. “I didn’t leave Victoria for Gaby. Second, there is no way in hell I would have ever imagined that Victoria would be here, so I wasn’t flaunting anything in her face. And third, I’m sorry that I hurt Victoria, but neither of us would have been happy if we’d gone through with the marriage. I know you’re just looking out for her, Abigail, but you know me. I’m not the kind of guy that would hurt your sister maliciously.” Scott turned to me, obviously eager to get out of this situation and back to his friends and Gaby, “I’ll see you back over there.” Then he turned and gave Abby a small smile. “It was nice to see you again, Abby.”

  Abby watched him walk away, emotions flitting over her face, before she turned to me and her demeanor changed. She smiled saucily up at me,” So … You’re one of Brendan’s brothers.”

  Oh, boy … here we go, I thought, but flashed a grin at her.

  “Yup.” I looked down at her shirt pointedly. “You a fan?”

  “I am,” she responded, her hands coming to her hips as she leaned in to me. “I’m meeting up with him later, but, I’m not doing anything now, if you’d like company.”

  Although my stomach churned, I kept the smile on my face and ignored her offer.

  “When did Victoria leave?” I asked instead.

  Confusion crossed her face for a moment, but she answered, “Just after the show started. Why?”

  I shrugged and took a pull of my beer, trying to appear nonchalant, but wanting info. “I talked to her before we went on. We talked about meeting up … But I’ll just catch her later. Where does she work again?”

  Abby narrowed her eyes at me, obviously not inebriated enough not to see through my bullshit.

  “She doesn’t.”

  Shit. How was I going to bump in to her if she didn’t have a job?

  I decided to cut the bullshit and turned my body toward Abby, looking down into her face and asking flat out, “What does she do during the day?”

  “Why do you want to know?” Abigail asked, her arms crossed, all pretense of flirting gone.

  “Look, we ran into each other earlier, and things transpired,” I explained. “I want to see her, talk to her, see what happens. She’s not going to listen to me if I call, and if I show up at her house, she’ll just get defensive, but if we run into each other on accident, she may actually give me the time of day.”

  Abby kept quiet for a moment, and I knew she was considering what I said, and, knowing her sister, she must have decided that what I said made sense, because she finally replied, “She goes to yoga three times a week. At that new place on Beaumont Street. You can look up their classes and address online.” I knew she wasn’t going to offer more when she turned on her heel to leave.

  “Thanks,” I called after her.

  She turned to look at me over her shoulder and replied sharply, “Don’t fuck with her.” Then she sauntered off to where my brother was sitting. A few groupies were still hanging around him. I chuckled softly as I watched her bypass the other women, walk straight to my brother, sit on his lap, and kiss him enthusiastically.

  Chapter Four – Victoria

  I loved yoga. I always felt relaxed, refreshed, and happy after each class. I didn’t know anyone in the class, didn’t have to talk or put on a façade. I could just follow the poses and let my mind clear.

  So when I walked out of the building, yoga mat under one arm, my mind open and my body refreshed, I became a bit disoriented when I bumped into a hard surface and looked up to see Brock smiling down at me.

  I just stood there for a moment, my brain trying to reconcile the fact that he was standing in front of me … again.

  “Hey,” he said smoothly, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal his unusual green eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked after a few moments, finally coming out of my reverie. “Are you following me?”

  Brock looked up and down the street, then back at me. “I was in the neighborhood and thought maybe you’d like to grab a cup of coffee.”

  He hadn’t answered my second question, so I narrowed my eyes at him and cocked my hip.

  “I don’t like coffee. Are you following me?” I repeated.

  “I wouldn’t call it following, since I simply got on my bike and rode here.” He responded with a smirk. “Your sister told me where to find you.”

  I made a mental note to speak with Abigail, but had to admit that although I was confused by his appearance, there was a small part of me that was thrilled to see him again.

  I told that part to shut up.

  “What is it that you want with me?” I asked, honestly confused by his pursuit.

  “I want my fifteen minutes.” He brought his hand up to tuck a wayward hair behind my ear, and smiled when I shivered at his touch. “How about tea?”

  “What?” I asked, my mind muddled by my reaction to him. Brock was not my type. Not in any way, shape, or form. I went for guys like Scott. Clean-shaven, well groomed, with a penchant for suits. Not tall, burly, mountain-men types, who looked like they wanted to throw you over their shoulder and drag you to their cave.

  “You said you don’t like coffee,” Brock explained patiently. “So I was asking if you would rather grab a tea.”

  “I don’t want anything,” I answered stubbornly.

  Brock stepped forward, getting close enough that all I’d have to do was lean in slightly, and my body would be touching his. He brought his face down close to mine, and I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze. I tried to ke
ep my expression blank, so he wouldn’t see the way my traitorous body was reacting to his nearness.

  “Just get on my bike, Victoria,” his voice rumbled in my ear. “The coffee joint is a couple blocks away. You give me fifteen minutes, and if you’re not interested in going any further, I’ll bring you back to your car and we’ll be finished.”

  He pulled back and looked into my eyes, waiting for my answer. Even though I knew I should just tell him where he could stick his fifteen minutes, that small part of me was refusing to shut up, and was begging me to at least see what happened next. It was sad, but the last two interactions I’d had with Brock were the most intense and exciting moments of my life, and I wanted to see what he had to say.

  I nodded slightly, then my breath caught in my throat as his face broke into a wide grin. My heart started to pound, and when he held out his hand, I took it and let him lead me down the sidewalk.

  When we stopped in front of a black motorcycle, my stomach plummeted.

  “A motorcycle?” I whispered.

  “Yeah, what did you think when I said bike?”

  “A bicycle,” I admitted, tearing my terrified gaze from the motorcycle to look at Brock.

  Brock laughed out loud, startling me as he asked, “Babe, what kind of guys have you dated?”

  “I’ve never been on one,” I replied, gesturing toward the bike.

  “It’s easy,” Brock assured me. “You’ll just sit behind me and hold on. I’ll do all the work.” He brought his hand up to my face again, this time caressing my cheek as he said, “It’s just up the road, Victoria, so it’s perfect for your first ride.”

  I gulped and nodded, then wondered at the fact that Brock seemed to bring out a side of me that not even I’d ever met before. Even I could admit, when it came to relationships, I was usually the one in control, and if I didn’t want to do something … I didn’t. But Brock made me want to do things I’d never done before.

  He picked up the helmet and secured it on my head, taking my mat from me and putting it in some sort of satchel on the side. Then he settled onto the bike, turning and offering his hand to help me get on behind him. The bike roared to life underneath me, and I began to tremble. Brock pulled my arms around his waist tightly, bringing my front flush with his back, but before I had a chance to enjoy the comfort of his warmth, we pulled away from the curb.