by A. C. Bextor
Before I can turn around to find where Hayden took his date, I feel hands on my shoulders and turn to look up to Sheridan. He’s half-drunk and his set is only half over. “So, you’re Travis’s kid sister, huh?”
“I’ve told you that.” I told him twice, actually, but obviously he wasn’t listening.
“Didn’t know he had one.”
“Well, he does,” I say, pointing to his group of friends. “I’ll get your table another round.”
“Have a drink with me tomorrow night.” I wasn’t expecting an invitation of any kind, only the mild attempt to pathetically flirt. He interprets my silence as acceptance. “Great.” With that, he pats my ass and walks away, leaving me standing alone at the bar as he makes his way back to his crowd of heathens. I eye-roll in response, knowing a reaction from me would spur him on.
Throughout the next hour, I’m on my feet jumping from bar drink pickup to tables. I’ve been waiting on tables for years so this isn’t a challenge; it’s mind-numbing and achingly monotonous.
Finally getting a break, I rest my body against the bar as I wait for Mel to make a new order for a group of crazy women who are celebrating someone’s office promotion. Shelby advised that the regulars generally order beer, which was my tell that these ladies don’t come in often. Daiquiris, margaritas, and shots all around for them.
“You look fucking hot in that shirt.” The seductive voice behind me causes my tired body to sway slightly while standing. Hayden’s front is pressed against my back and the heat from his breath on my neck is sending warm shivers up my spine.
“My shirt?” I look down, noting the prison-striped bar uniform we’re required to wear. “Do you have a fascination for women in black and white? Or is it the bad girl persona you think you’d like to have a go at?”
I hear him laugh softly as he moves my hair from my neck. “Can’t you just take the compliment? However, the idea of you in cuffs does do something for me.”
“Oh, God, more flirting. You’re awkward.”
Stepping to my side, he leans his elbows back on the bar and watches the crowd in front of him. Shelby sets a bottle of beer beside him and he accepts it on a wink. She winks back in thanks; a casual and familiar act between them.
He’s wearing another Henley; this one dark blue, contrasting the color of his eyes. The sleeves are rolled up near the elbow and the veins of his arms protrude in his position. The pendant is resting in its spot at the dip of his neck.
“Checking me out?” he asks in an offended tone. “I have a date here, for Christ’s sake.”
“Yuck, you’re so wrong.”
“Don’t think I am, Lacey.”
I sigh and start loading what Mel’s finished on my tray. “I gotta work and as much as I’d love to stand here ogling you, people are waiting.”
“People. Right.” After a few seconds of silence, that I spend ogling his mouth as it wraps around the bottle for a drink and his hand that curves around it with purpose, he looks at me with a serious expression. “I wonder what you’d taste like under my tongue. Or how loud you’d moan my name when you were done soaking the sheets with your climax.”
I widen my eyes in shock. “Oh, my God. You didn’t . . .”
Laughing, he moves his hand behind my neck and pulls the top of my body into him; my feet stay planted in shock. “I’m flirting, Lacey.”
“That flirt was well played, ’til you went too far with the sheets. Hayden, no one talks about soiled sheets,” I admit without breathing.
“You had it coming.”
“Oh, Jesus. You’ve got to stop while you’re ahead.” He smiles wide and I find myself grinning because I made him laugh. “Where’s your girl?” I ask, but hate myself for it when I notice his mischievous grin as he takes a drink.
“Bathroom. She needed to freshen up.”
“If you talked to her like you just talked to me, I’d say she needs a cold shower.”
“Cute, Lace.”
After enjoying a few seconds of quiet, Mel is nearly done with my tray. I grab the last drink and start to turn around, but Sheridan chooses now to ruin my momentum by showing up without invite. “Hayden, my man. How are you?”
I watch as Hayden’s entire disposition changes. His jaw tics with annoyance and he mutters, “Hey.”
“You met Lacey?” Sheridan asks him as though they’re old friends.
“Yes.” Hayden’s tone conveys he’s not only annoyed; he’s pissed.
Sheridan gets closer in my space and he’s tall enough I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “When you wanna have that drink?” he whispers loudly, ensuring Hayden heard him.
Before I can answer, I hear Hayden heavily set his bottle down on the bar then watch as he turns directly at us. “Seriously, Dan?”
Sheridan, who I now know goes by Dan, replies with a smug grin. “She agreed to a drink.”
“Enjoy that, Lacey.” Without further explanation, Hayden turns around and walks into the crowd without a second look.
*****
Hayden
Walking away from Lacey as she stood at the bar speechless was a dick move. When Jenna called and asked if I had plans tonight, I wasn’t thinking when I told her I didn’t. I brought her here, as I normally would, but was looking forward more to seeing Lacey than taking Jenna on a ‘date.’
Jenna is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a relationship and what we have isn’t even close to one. We fuck on a regular basis, not because she’s good at that specifically but she’s less work than going and finding another girl to seduce. It’s a casual friendship. She doesn’t require more from me than I’m willing to give, and I don’t give a shit about sharing her.
Rather than head back to my table, I walk toward the back of the bar and find my exit. It’s a small place I go between sets to catch a breath. No one ever goes out there and after watching Lacey and Dan exchange conversation about plans they are making together, I need a breather.
I like Lacey. I genuinely enjoy talking to her. If she was willing to have sex with me, I wouldn’t turn her down. She’s hot. However, Dan Michaels is a fucking snake. He’ll use her as I would, but he’ll be a dick about it after. I hate that she’s talking to him; much more that she’s making plans to have a drink with him.
After a few minutes alone, I hear the door open behind me. I assume it’s Lacey coming after me, to call me out as she did last night. I realize it’s not when I hear the timid voice behind me speak.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” I say quietly, unsure what this girl’s after but knowing she’s definitely not my type. The woman is small, short in frame, mousy brunette hair, and dark brown eyes that won’t so much as look at any part of me directly.
“I’m not stalking you or anything but I saw you come out here.”
Giving her a genuine smile, I reply, “That’s stalking. If you’re following me out into a dark alley, then technically that’s stalking and I gotta say, you’re not very good at it.”
She smiles back, the building’s light behind her creating a glow over her tiny body. “I guess you’re right. Sorry. I was wondering . . .”
“Yeah?” I return, leaning against the rail and crossing my feet in front of me. I brace for the request that always comes.
A single night with me in her bed.
A chased orgasm, several if the mood strikes us.
One hour of my time, a lifetime left for her to forget I ever existed.
Timidly and while avoiding my stare, she looks to the ground before speaking. “You’re Hayden, right? The singer of Despair?” I nod, so she continues, “The guy who plays the keyboard in your band . . .”
My eyebrows rise, and I feel them strain in surprise. The little woman with amber eyes and brown hair has shocked me with her inquiry to Travis. “Travis Nikels?”
“Yeah. Is he . . .”
“He . . . what?”
“Is he gay?”
A laugh I’d not heard myself use in fucking months takes over
and fills the small space between us on the back porch. Her eyes dart away into the night behind me when she realizes the answer went without saying. “No, babe. Trav’s not gay. So, if you’re interested . . .”
Her head shakes back and forth quickly. “No, not at all. My cousin is, though. He said the keyboardist looks all moody and sent me back here to ask you.”
“Well, he’s right about that. He’s definitely a moody son of a bitch.” I laugh again shortly, but this time she laughs with me. “What’s your name?”
“Kate.”
“Well, if you happen to be interested in Travis for yourself, I’d be happy to mention it to him. He’s not seeing anyone as far as I know.”
She blushes and looks toward the ground. I can see right here that she’s intrigued, if not interested by the idea. “No, that’s okay.”
I pass her standing in my way and open the door as she timidly crawls under my arm to get through it. “Well, Kate, thanks for the company,” I tell her with honesty.
“Thanks for the info on Travis. I’ll tell Derek to keep looking.”
“Sheridan Michaels likes men, in case your cousin is interested.” It’s a cheap shot, but it’s available and I’m in the mood to take it.
“Thank you,” she answers politely, smiling through the crowd as she disappears.
Still grinning to myself, I walk back to the bar and then my good mood fades as I see red. Dan is now sitting at my table, with his arm around Jenna’s chair and her hand on his chest. He’s getting too comfortable in my space.
“Hey, asshat. Your friends are over . . .” I point to where he should be seated, “there.”
Jenna looks up at me in disappointment. Probably because she finds this tall string-bean attractive in some ridiculous way.
Lifting his hands in surrender, he pleads in his bullshit British accent, “Go easy, Flynn. I was just sayin’ hello to the young lady.”
Looking down at Jenna, I roll my eyes and let out a hiss of disgust as I pull out my chair. “Go,” I say to her and watch her eyes dance with gratitude. She’s not unaware of our relationship being an arrangement of convenience.
She stands, kisses my cheek and follows an already walking away Dan to his group, leaving me alone in the crowd at a pathetic table for one.
“You must not have flirted with her like you did me earlier,” Lacey says while putting another beer in front of me and picking up my now empty one.
With defeat, I admit, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
Laughing through her words, she responds, “That’s not it. You’re just not with the right girl.”
There is no right girl.
“What time are you getting off?” I ask, glancing at my watch and noting it’s almost midnight.
“Getting off?” she asks, her eyebrows rising as her eyes dance with humor.
“Work, crazy.”
“Oh.” She fakes disinterest. “Shelby said I can go anytime now that the band’s done.”
“How’d you get here?”
“Travis. He’s picking me up when I call.”
“Text him. Let the crab-ass sleep. I’ll take you home.” Her uncertain expression tells me Travis has finally filled her in on his version of who I am. “Jesus, tell him I’ll be a gentleman.”
She smiles, grabs her phone from her apron and texts Travis. “You know him well, huh?”
“Yeah . . . I do.”
He just doesn’t know me at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lacey
WHEN HAYDEN DROVE me home Monday night, we made plans to go shopping this week for the birthday party Ace is throwing Raegan on Thursday. He was insistent we celebrate the event the day of, rather than wait until the weekend when Travis didn’t have to work the next morning. That is what led to us standing in a crowded party store shopping for accessories.
“Blue or green?” I ask, holding up streamers and being circled by kids in the narrow aisle.
“Green,” he answers without looking at me or the samples I’m holding in my hand for him to review and decide.
“Paper or plastic plates?”
“Paper,” he returns, still looking at anything but me. He’s been somewhat distant all day. When he picked me up at Travis’s this afternoon, I sensed something was wrong. Then, on the drive over he hardly said a word. He’s merely been going through the motions.
“Missionary or doggie style,” I whisper quietly to avoid the gawking mothers who can’t help but stare at Hayden. I can’t blame them for envying me. It would be nice if they had more to envy, but whatever.
Finally, my bold question captures his attention. He looks up at me from his study of the invitations and smirks¸ but it’s halfhearted. “Neither,” he says. “I want you on top.”
I don’t allow his response of insinuation to deter me. “I wouldn’t have imagined you’d like that.”
Dropping the colored napkins he was holding, he strides to me casually. “Well, I do. The thought of you looking down on me as you come excites me.”
I don’t look away as I know he expects me to. Instead, I hold his controlled stare with one of my own and say with a straight face, “Pity that’s how you like it, because I like it in the ass.”
“Oh, Jesus,” he replies through a laugh. “Is this you flirting?”
“No, I got desperate. What’s going on with you today?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re acting like a teenage girl who just got her period.”
“Cute, Lacey.” He shakes his head while grinning.
“Well?”
“Nothing. I’m in a mood.”
“A mood?”
“Sorry. Just have a lot going on.”
With his face full of worry, I continue my song and dance in trying to get him to come around. I nudge his shoulder. “Lights on or lights off?”
“If she’s a dog, lights have to be off. With you, on.”
“Shower or bathtub sex?”
I sense I’m wearing him down. He snaps, “Is sex all you think about when you look at me?”
“No! Not at all. I was playing. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t; let’s go.”
Grabbing the basket of things I have in my hands, he walks past me to the checkout.
During the drive back to Trav’s, I stay quiet. I’ve only been around Hayden a few times and this ‘mood’ he’s in has disrupted our usual flirtatious banter. He has me feeling bad for him and I don’t know what’s causing him to pull back.
Hours later, Hayden stands behind the bathroom door with impatience, waiting for me to finish getting ready. He’s another oblivious male who doesn’t understand a girl’s need to primp before going out. “You ready?”
“Five minutes. Have some patience. This takes work,” I snap back.
“Putting on makeup and curling your hair is not work, woman.” Says the perfect man who naturally looks like he does. “Let’s go,” he says back before I’m able to finish mentally cursing him.
Fifteen minutes later, I open the door and find him standing on the other side with his arms braced on either side of the jamb, waiting impatiently for me to finish. When he looks up from the floor and sees me, I watch him visibly take in a breath and not exhale it. His eyes move up and down my body with a mix of appreciation and annoyance.
“What?” I say, smoothing down my black pencil skirt and looking down to recheck my choice of blouse. It’s a grey silk piece that chokes my neck in the front, but the back is the main attraction. I wore my hair up tonight, unsure how crowded and sweaty the bar we’re headed to will be. “What’s wrong with this outfit?”
“Not a fucking thing,” he answers through a rough whisper.
“Good, then can we go?” I slip under his arm and through the door to make my way out into the living room.
When I pass him, I hear another intake of breath then feel him come up behind me, realizing he just got a full view of my backside. “Travis isn’t go
ing to like that outfit.” The heat from his body is against mine and I lean back for only a fraction of a second to let myself enjoy it. “I fucking love it, though,” he finishes in my ear.
“Well, it’s a good thing he’s not wearing it.”
I feel his finger run the expanse of my naked spine, top to bottom. “It’s too bad you are wearing it.”
I freeze, waiting with bated breath for more words of attraction. I love when he talks to me like this and don’t care what it says about my sense of desperation. Whether he’s kidding or not doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I don’t ever remember a man’s touch making me feel as desired. Until meeting Hayden, I believed this was only found in books and movies.
“Flirting?” I ask in jest, trying to pull myself from his hold, but he stops me with an arm around my waist.
“Nope. Truth.” His words could have me removing my clothes if he asked me nicely, or not at all.
Grabbing his hand around my middle, I pull him forward as I go. “Let’s go, Hayden.”
Knowing the house is ready for Raegan’s surprise party, I’m looking forward to having a drink so we make our way to Royal’s Pub downtown. Raegan was home all day with Deck and Bean. Bean’s job was to keep Raegan busy so she didn’t pester Travis asking what he got her for her present. Bean’s friend and old neighbor, Mary, is watching Decklan tonight, and Sarah is hanging at Trav’s to meet Mel and Shelby so they can wait for us to get back since Sarah’s not old enough to be in Royal’s after nine.
“Have you been to this place before?” I ask Hayden while looking out the window of his Land Rover. I’m trying to avoid his stare; eyes on the road, then back to me, in constant repeat motion.
“Yeah, it’s an okay place. It’s nothing like The Ward.”
“Do they have music?”
“Yes,” he answers. “They have Raegan’s kind.”
I scrunch my nose in disgust. Raegan Simmons listens to the same music her parents did, Neil Diamond being her absolute idol. I may listen to ‘rhyming trash’ as Hayden refers to it, but at least it’s not wedding or funeral music.
“So, do you dance?” The thought of Hayden dancing makes my insides clench. I imagine his moves mirroring his dirty words.
