High Strung (Power Station Book 1)

by Gephart, T

  “Look, Ashlyn,” I couldn’t believe I was about to fucking say what I was about to, both hating myself but knowing it was the right thing to do, “you don’t have to stay, you have your purse. You can take off if you want.”

  Those big green eyes nailed me as she disregarded her menu. “Dan, I’m sorry. This is just really—”

  “Weird?” I finished for her. She wasn’t hard to read; I felt the vibe the minute she walked in.

  Strangely, I hated she felt that way and what I hated even more was that she was feeling it because of me. Maybe touching all that girl stuff from her purse did something to my balls ’cause seeing her like this was giving me feelings and shit. Next I’m gonna need a fucking box of Tampax and start blubbering while watching The Notebook. It’s not like I hadn’t cared about girls’ feelings in the past, they just seemed less important than my own. Yeah, I know I’m an asshole, but I just didn’t feeling like being one right now, even if the rest of my body didn’t agree.

  “Yeah, weird. I’ve never had a one-night stand before so yeah sitting across from you pretending you haven’t seen me naked is…well it’s awkward.” She smiled and damn if that didn’t make me want to reach across the table and kiss those sweet lips.

  “Ashlyn, listen…about last night.” My dick punched out in protest, warning me to keep my big fucking mouth shut. “I don’t think you really know what went down.” Her eyes widened, as she waited for me to finish. “We didn’t sleep together last night. I mean we slept together, but we didn’t fuck.” I managed to say the word fuck just as the blonde waitress returned to take our drinks order.

  “Uh…can I get you guys some drinks to start off with, maybe some appetizers?” She fumbled through her regular, obviously rehearsed speech. Thank fuck she didn’t ask if we wanted to hear the specials.

  “You want a soda or something?” I asked Ashlyn who continued to stare silently. I wasn’t able to get a read on whether it was a surprise we-hadn’t-slept-together or you’re-an-asshole-I-want-to-hurt-you look. I’m going to be honest, both of them kinda blew.

  She nodded, responding, “Coke.”

  “Make that two.”

  The waitress quickly left after it became obvious we were in the middle of something.

  “Then we didn’t do it?” Ashlyn leaned closer across the table. “But I remember, telling you I wanted to, in the car. You tried to talk me out of it but I…” She didn’t need to finish the sentence. I remember that car ride; hardest thing I ever had to do was ask her to cool it. I wanted her so bad but I knew it was just the booze talking.

  “Yeah, you said that and I have to admit, you weren’t making it easy for me. We made out but that’s it. You were drunk and you passed out. Nothing happened.” I looked her in eye, I don’t know why, but it was important to me that she knew it was the truth.

  “You could have…there are guys that would have…” I hadn’t seen this side of her; she’d always come across so confidently, so feisty. I wasn’t sure if she was embarrassed or the realization of what could have gone down hit her.

  “What? Done it anyway? Fuck, Ashlyn, no. I know you don’t think very highly of me and that’s fine, but if I’m going to be with a girl then she has to be able to say she wants it and she is going to damn well remember what it felt like after we’re done.”

  “But if we didn’t have sex, why did you stay?” Her green eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity.

  “’Cause you asked me to.” It didn’t make a lot of sense to me, either. I’m not a cuddler. The whole big spoon, little spoon thing bewilders me and yet, last night, it just felt right.

  “But I’ve been nothing but horrible to you. I don’t understand.” She stared me down, owning the fact she’d been bitchy.

  I couldn’t help laugh, all that feisty bullshit made my balls get tight. If her intention had been to turn me off, she had failed. “Yeah, you haven’t been my biggest fan but you’re honest and I can respect that, and the shit you said didn’t really bother me.”

  “How? How can it not bother you? I mean honestly, doesn’t it hurt when people say mean things about you?”

  “Hell, no. Look at me. I am doing what I love and getting paid bank to do it. People think I’m not the smartest guy in the world but who the fuck cares? People slave away every fucking day killing themselves lining someone else’s pocket with green, hating their jobs and hating their lives. I’ve got none of that. This is exactly what I wanted to be doing. This is exactly who I want to be. I get to travel the world and play gigs with my four best friends who happen to be some of the coolest people I know, even though sometimes they act like a bunch of douchebags.”

  Admittedly, I did care what some people thought. That group—the people I cared about—was very small however. Everyone else could take their best shot and it would slide right off me. Hell I’d be in a nuthouse if I bought into my own press. Half of the shit printed was genuine lies but I didn’t care enough to set them straight.

  “I just don’t understand how you can be so cool about it.” Ashlyn shook her head, for some reason she was having difficulty accepting my reasoning. Maybe I wasn’t explaining myself clearly enough. No one had ever bothered to ask me before so it’s not like I had a speech prepared.

  “Easy, I’m not trying to live up to anyone’s ideals, babe. I’ve got my own gauge. I’m fine with it.”

  The waitress came back with our sodas and seeing as Ashlyn had made the choice to stay, we decided to order. I was freaking starving so went with a cheeseburger and fries while she opted for a standard BLT. At least she didn’t order a salad. Girls that didn’t eat were always super cranky and I think Ashlyn had enough attitude without adding being mad because she was hungry to the equation.

  “Wow, Dan, I feel like I owe you an apology.” Ashlyn watched as the waitress left the table. I kind of wished I hadn’t have left the venue up to her. The place was starting to fill with families and tourists and even though we were seated toward the back, it was getting noisy.

  “For what?” We’d already placed our order so if she was having second thoughts about being here, she should have said something earlier.

  She leaned in so I could hear her better over the kid that was crying two booths over ’cause he had to eat his Mac ‘n’ Cheese before his mom would let him have dessert. “I judged you. Assumed the stereotype was right.”

  “Ha, well for the most part it kind of is. James is the sensitive one - girls eat that I’m-going-to-love-you-forever bullshit. Alex is the cool one - he has the iceman routine down and it drives girls fucking crazy. Troy is like a big teddy bear – big-ass dude, but hilarious and has a really good heart so naturally he has no problem with the ladies either. Jason is the smart one – serious, but one of the most loyal dudes I know. Girls get wet knowing that he is technically an IT nerd and if the earth tilts off its axis and the band was to end tomorrow, he could go right into a job that pulls six-figures. And that just leaves me.”

  “The bad boy. The life of the party, sleeps around and the one ladies want to try and tame,” she concluded, thinking she had me all worked out.

  “Bad boy makes me sound like a jerk-off.” I rolled my eyes, fucking bad boy? Made me think of eighteen-year-old punks from fucking Beverly Hills driving around in their old man’s Porsches. I think not. “Let’s think of something else instead.”

  “But that’s why girls want to sleep with you - the challenge.” Ashlyn smiled, no fucking doubt pleased she had hit a nerve.

  “I don’t know, Ash. I never really asked any of them.” I rubbed the back of my neck thinking this was dangerous territory. Wasn’t it fucking bad to be talking about other women with the chick you hoped to get lucky with? I’m sure Stone told me something, not that I’d ever admit he was right, but when it came to ladies, the asshole knew his stuff. “It’s not like I give them a survey to fill out after.”

  “Might be an interesting marketing exercise.”

  She obviously wasn’t letting it go, and it was maki
ng me confused. Were we supposed to be talking about it or not? I wish I had a phone-a-friend option ’cause I could use a lifeline right now. It was a hell of a lot easier just to get them in bed; conversation was a fucking minefield.

  “Nah, I don’t want to know.”

  “C’mon, Dan, you’re not that shallow. You are sitting in an Applebee’s with a girl who you haven’t slept with, having a normal conversation. I think maybe there’s more to you than that.”

  “Well, maybe that’s how I am and you are just seeing me differently.” I needed to change the direction of this conversation quickly. “I’m the same guy you met when you were staring at Stone’s ass. This place is kind of lame though. I should’ve vetoed the decision and made you meet me at Hooters.”

  “I was not staring at Alex’s ass.”

  The red that crept up her cheeks told me different and damn if that didn’t make me jealous of that bastard.

  Our server approached the table, balancing a plate in each hand. He was a pimply kid who probably had more hair on his chin than he did on his balls. Shady little shit’s smile widened as he placed the plate in front of Ashlyn, making her visibly relax and sit up straighter in her chair. He looked over at me, the smug smile disappearing as I eyeballed him. He put the plate down, and wouldn’t you know the kid must have been a genius ’cause he wisely kicked up the speed and took off. I wasn’t about to let the Stone issue go, hell no was she getting out of it that easy.

  “Ashlyn, come on. I thought we were being honest here.”

  She took a sip of her Coke before answering, “Fine, I’ll admit it. Can we move on? Don’t you dare tell him, I’ll deny it and then say the reason we haven’t had sex is because you couldn’t get it up. Incidentally, I wouldn’t have minded Hooters, I like their chicken wings.”

  I couldn’t help myself, bursting into laughter. Wow, she was good. I backed her into a corner and she came out swinging. Fuck if that didn’t just make me want her more. “No one would believe you, sweetheart. My cock has never had a problem getting it up. But don’t worry your secret crush is safe with me. Oh and Ashlyn, I’d marry a plate of Hooters wings if that shit were legal.”

  “See, even bad boys want a commitment.” She stole a French fry from my plate and popped it into her smirking mouth.

  I could see this bad boy bullshit was going to give me grief. “You know, if Troy hears you calling me that he’s going to be paying me out for weeks.”

  “It’s funny, I know I met him last night but I don’t remember a whole lot about him.” Ashlyn turned her attention back to her own plate, picking up half her sandwich.

  “Yeah, you did. He found you and your friend Megs trying to sneak into the VIP section. Maybe if you play your cards right, you might get to meet him again.” I picked up my burger and took a bite. While our meeting might have started off weird, we had slipped into something else and it felt really good. I wasn’t going to let this chick walk away, that’s for sure.

  “Why? You see us hanging out again after this? Isn’t that kind of bad for your image, spending time with a girl you’re not sleeping with.” Ashlyn took another bite of her sandwich.

  “Well maybe you should sleep with me and we can save my reputation,” I suggested. Mighty fine suggestion too if you ask me, I wanted her under me so badly my balls hurt.

  “No, Dan. As tempting as that offer is, I’m going to have to decline.” She shot me down without even considering it. Time to work a new angle.

  “Your loss then.” I shrugged before adding, “Maybe you can be my exception?”

  “Your exception? What do you mean?” She stopped eating and gave me her full attention. I liked it, her eyes on me, listening to what I was saying. Not just because she wanted to end up underneath me but because she honestly wanted to hear what I had to say. It had never really mattered before, having a girl’s attention for reasons other than my dick. Now that I had it, I wasn’t in a hurry to give it up.

  “I mean, this has been surprisingly kind of nice. I don’t usually just hang with girls and as long as you don’t spread any bullshit rumors about me being sap or having a limp dick maybe we should do this again.” I gave her a smile, knowing it would probably set her off again.

  “Spread rumors about you?” She huffed from across the table. “If anyone is spreading rumors it will be you about me.”

  “Yeah well, we can only improve your reputation with that rumor. Who the fuck has never been to a concert in their lives? I’m still in fucking shock.” I coughed trying to suppress a laugh. I was enjoying pushing her buttons a little too much for my own good.

  “I believe there were other things on that list too: a one-night stand and jerking off a guy in a car,” she threw back, fighting a grin.

  “Well I hate to break it to you, but the jerking off thing…you did it last night. You were pretty good for a rookie.” I leaned back, my cock suddenly needing more room in my pants. The memories of last night were going to be in rotation in my spank bank for weeks.

  “Oh my god. If you were a gentleman you would kindly forget that happened and not tell me any more details.” Ashlyn grabbed her paper napkin and tossed it rather poorly at me.

  I deflected her friendly fire with very little effort. “That’s your mistake, babe, I’m no gentlemen.”

  After spending a really pleasant few hours with Dan, I, of course, had to return to Megs’s apartment and give her a very detailed debrief. I was surprised she hadn’t asked me to put together a PowerPoint presentation. She made me repeat everything over and over, laughing over how funny he was and obviously how sweet he had been with me the night before, while I had displayed questionable judgment and even more questionable sobriety. I agreed with her in that perhaps my initial summary of Dan Evans being a disgusting—albeit delectable—manwhore was somewhat skewed. I still believed him to be a manwhore, and he was definitely still delectable, but something had shifted and I really liked being around him. I begrudgingly made my way back to Brooklyn.

  I had my usual Saturday night shift at Garro’s, the shift hardly anyone wanted to work because it was usually date night despite the guarantee of earning big tips. Granted those tips were well and truly earned and I usually had to spend most of the latter part of the evening swatting away hands from my ass. Why did men get so grabby after sinking a few beers?

  It had been loud and hectic at the bar. College ball had dominated the big screens with Syracuse defeating West Virginia just before the end of the final quarter. Football games always packed the venue and it generally meant my eight-hour shift seemed infinitely longer. A fight had broken out around half time when some out-of-towner wanted to start trouble with a local, but Kenny, one of the large bouncers, soon saw those two work out their issues with some choice words and a stern look. Still, game nights meant a larger crowd so when I finally dragged my ass home at three a.m. I was dead on my feet.

  I peeled off my standard Garro-issued polo and stepped out of my black pants, tossing them into my neglected laundry hamper, its contents now spilling onto the floor. I was going to have to lug it down to a laundromat tomorrow, which was really just later today. I turned on the faucet, needing to wash the smell of beer and sweat out of my hair and skin and waited the obligatory few minutes until the water ran clear. I closed my eyes knowing that one day I’d be able to take a shower without this ridiculous ritual.

  My stomach growled. The only food I had consumed since lunch had been a grilled cheese sandwich that Reuben the cook had whipped up in the fifteen-minute break I had taken. I was pretty sure there wasn’t any food in the apartment, so growling or not, my stomach would have to wait until daylight hours.

  After a quick shower, I continued to ignore my protesting stomach and crawled into bed. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Not happening. I tossed and turned, crawling over to the opposite side of the bed. I could still faintly smell Dan’s scent on my pillow. I brought it closer to me, inhaling the rectangular feather bag like a drug addict taking a hit. Insanity.
Perhaps the poison from the lead paint peeling from the walls had finally seeped into my brain? That had to be the only explanation as to why I was up at three thirty in the morning sniffing a pillow.

  I punched it. The pillow. Because that made all kinds of sense. I groaned in frustration, annoyed that I wanted Dan laying beside me and knowing it wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t happen. We were too different. I had no place in his world, how could it even work? The minute he slept with me I would turn into one of those. Another story to tell, another fun time. But still…I wondered if it would be worth it. I had seen another side of him today, a sweet man underneath his ever-present bravado. Was it an act?

  “Ugh!” I punched the pillow again. Sadly it didn’t make me feel any better than it did the first time I’d punched it, my misguided emotions still twisting through my head. I took a deep breath and reached for the phone that sat idly on my nightstand. The dark screen illuminated with a swipe of my finger. Without thinking I scrolled to his name and pressed on his photo, that erotic image teasing me from behind the glass. I could look at it for hours. Torture. Obviously that was the solution, because clearly punching a pillow hadn’t worked. I brought the phone closer, the screen inches from my face, the temptation to touch it too great as I ran my finger down the image, imagining what its reality would feel like.

  I continued in my silent indulgence, committing every line of his torso to memory. The sweeps of color in his tattoos burned into my brain. The light in the image shifted momentarily as I ran my finger along the glass, his name highlighted across the screen. Shit! I watched the phone dial of its own accord. My finger must have inadvertently hit call while I was stroking the image. I fumbled with the phone managing to quickly hit end before he had a chance to answer. I breathed a sign of relief silently thanking the gods the call hadn’t connected.