It wasn’t often she met someone who was genuine with her and wasn’t trying to get something in return. Everyone had always wanted something from her, whether it was a meeting with her ex-husband, a favor from her ex-husband, or even a coveted spot on her and her ex-husband’s dinner party invitation list.
All her old friends, even her old employer, were around because of her connections. But she didn’t have those anymore. And James didn’t seem to care.
She was beginning to think his honesty was the sexiest part about him. And that was saying a lot since there were so many other sexy things to choose from.
“Do you want another beer?” he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
She swirled the small amount of amber liquid around in her pilsner glass. She’d already had two, and truth be told, she was having such a nice time she didn’t want their night to end. Yet she knew another drink would tip her over the mellow euphoria she’d created.
“I probably shouldn’t,” she said as she raised her eyes to meet his.
He pulled out his wallet and threw a few twenties on the table. Megan quickly reached for her purse. “James, won’t you let me cover half the bill? I’d really like to.”
He shook his head. “I’m the one who asked you out to dinner. My treat.”
Her chest fluttered at the thought of him thinking they were on a date. Because this wasn’t that. At least she didn’t think it was.
When he rose from his seat to signal it was time to leave, her heart sank. She stood, tugging at the sides of her skirt. Those three slices of pizza she’d had were now pushing against her waistline.
James waved to someone in the kitchen but she couldn’t make out who. She was busy trying not to get run over by the servers carrying huge trays of pizza in the very tight spaces around the crowded restaurant.
Megan was surprised when she felt James close his hand around hers and guide her to the front door. Her hand felt so small inside his warm grip.
How could holding hands with a man like him make her feel so safe? He was just helping her out of the restaurant, but it felt like so much more. When they got through the front door, he didn’t release his grip. And she didn’t mind.
Instead of leading her to the back parking lot, he pulled her with him across the road.
“We aren’t going to your bike?”
He gave her another crooked smile. “Mind if we take a short detour?”
She wanted to blurt out that she didn’t mind at all. That he could take her on a long detour if he wanted to. But she stayed composed. “No, that’s fine.”
Megan wanted to also point out that they were jaywalking but they were nearly across the street, and she resisted the urge to state the obvious. Besides, James didn’t seem like the type of guy who cared whether he jaywalked or not. Instead she asked, “Will your bike be okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I know the owner of the pizza place. He won’t have it towed. At least I hope he won’t.”
She hoped not too. She wasn’t sure she could crawl on the back of the bike quite so soon after eating, but she definitely wanted another ride.
They walked hand in hand down the sidewalk and made it another block before Megan asked him where they were going.
“There,” he replied, pointing toward what looked like an abandoned building on the corner of the next block.
Corrugated metal covered the building’s exterior, and as they got closer, Megan could see The Atrium was spray-painted in graffiti-style block letters next to an unmarked door. Apprehension started to battle inside her. She must have slowed because James looked down and squeezed her hand.
She read in his eyes that he wanted her to trust him. And oddly enough, she did. So when he opened the heavy metal door and started to descend down a poorly lit stairwell, she followed.
“What is this place?” she asked as the door slammed shut behind her.
“You’ll see in just a second.”
The lower they went, the dimmer it got. When they reached two stories below street level, she started to hear the muffled hum of music below. After one more story down, she could feel it vibrating through the stairwell. They finally made it to the bottom, and James reached for the handle of the door at the base of the stairs.
Before he pulled it open, he looked back to her and smiled. “It’s gonna get loud.”
Megan nodded once, and as soon as James released the latch to open the door, her ears were assaulted. They entered into a large amphitheater-looking space that was packed with people.
She hardly noticed the giant man standing beside her until he barked something at them. James handed over some cash and then raised their clasped hands toward the guy, who then slapped a wet, dark stamp on the backs of their hands. The giant winked at her, and all she could do was blink back.
A heavy metal band was thrashing around on stage, and she couldn’t make out the difference between the screaming of the lead singer and the high-pitched squealing of the electric guitar.
Megan instinctively let go of James’s hand and covered her ears before they started to bleed. He looked back and winced, clearly not a fan of the ear-splitting music either. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he guided her through the mass of people to the bar in the far corner.
Why in the hell did he bring me here?
Megan was so far out of her comfort zone she felt like she was in another dimension. A heady mix of discomfort and curiosity swirled inside of her. The music was too loud, the lighting too dark. James appeared comfortable in this mosh pit, and that sent so many questions fluttering through her brain.
When they made it through the crowd to the bar, James patted an empty barstool and Megan climbed up. The shrieking on stage came to an abrupt end, and to her disbelief, it got a raucous applause.
She looked around at the large space now that the house lights had come on. It was somewhat of a mixed crowd. The majority of the audience and people at the bar looked to be in their upper twenties and early thirties. But one thing was for sure. She was definitely overdressed in her pencil skirt and cardigan set.
“Beer?” James asked, his voice raised over the noise of the room.
She nodded emphatically. She knew she looked tense, and she was hoping a beer would help loosen her up.
He smiled and leaned over the bar to yell their order to the bartender. Once their drafts were delivered, she quickly took a sip, savoring the way the ice-cold liquid felt sliding down her throat.
After the band left the stage, she could hear herself think again. “Where are we?”
“This place is called the Atrium. It’s a small concert venue.” James leaned against the bar next to her seat. “A lot of local bands play here on the weekends.”
“Do you come here a lot?”
He shook his head. “Only when there’s someone good playing. I probably haven’t been here in over a year.”
She took another look around. The women were dressed casually in everything from jeans to miniskirts. The men were mostly dressed like James in jeans and T-shirts.
She wondered if he used to come here with his ex-wife. Just the thought of the wild-eyed woman she’d met a week ago was unsettling. She doubted his ex-wife had always been like that. There was probably a time when they were young and carefree. She had probably been beautiful and full of life and lacking inhibitions. They probably came to this place to hear bands play and make out in dark corners.
Looking down at herself, Megan realized for the first time that night that she was definitely delusional if she thought she was anything close to James’s type. She quickly took a sip of her beer, trying to wash down the disappointment she suddenly felt.
“Whatcha thinking about?”
Megan looked up and saw James studying her. His dark eyes searched her face. “Nothing.” She quickly shook her head and smiled. She gestured to the stage with her chin. “Was that one of the bands you liked?”
He narrowed his eyes at her attempt to change the topic before s
haking his head. “No, they aren’t really my style.”
“Who are we here to see then?”
“A band called Torrid. I went to high school with the drummer.”
She’d never heard of the group but that didn’t really surprise her. She loved music but rarely got to listen to it. When she was cooking in the kitchen, she usually listened to jazz.
“What type of music do they play?” she asked.
He tilted his head. “Rock and roll, mainly. They have their own stuff, but usually when they come back to the Atrium, they do covers of the classics. The Stones, Led Zeppelin, Metallica. I think you’ll like them.”
His eyes were smiling at her, and suddenly, she felt a whole lot more at ease.
“And what makes you think I’d like rock and roll?” she teased.
He leaned toward her, his face just inches from hers. “Because you’ve surprised me at almost every turn since you walked into my shop a couple months ago. And I have a feeling that, if given the chance, you might just surprise yourself.”
Something in the way he was watching her told Megan that he wasn’t just talking about the music they were about to hear. Her breathing turned shallow as she watched his full lips pull into a grin. His mouth was so close she felt his breath against her cheek. When she moved her gaze to his, a shiver traveled up her spine. And it felt good. Like a warm cup of coffee on a weekend morning.
“Come on.” He took her nearly empty glass and put it on the bar. “Let’s see if we can get closer.”
She let him pull her off her stool and into the crowd that was slowly packing its way toward the edge of the stage. They were about halfway through the mass of bodies when the house lights went dark and the crowd went wild.
James squeezed her hand in reassurance. For the third time that night, she was blindly following this man into the unknown. The first time had been when she crawled onto the back of his bike. The second time had been when she followed him down the darkened stairway into the Atrium. And now for the third time, she was trailing behind him into the pitch-black chaos of an electric crowd waiting for a rock and roll band called Torrid.
She was beginning to think she would follow him anywhere.
Calli had told Megan to live it up. That she needed to meet someone so different that there would be no doubt in her mind that it was a rebound.
Everything about James was different. Everything. From the way he looked to the way he talked and the way he listened. But mostly it was in the way he made her feel.
Never before had she felt the exhilaration she experienced when he came near her. Never before had she felt the stirring of lust pool deep inside her stomach just from looking at someone’s lips. And never, ever in her life had she wanted so much to prove someone right. That if given the chance, she might just surprise herself.
Chapter 10
James pushed as close to the stage as he could get. Tonight, just like any other Torrid show, it was standing room only. They were packed in there like sardines in the pitch dark.
Usually when he came to the Atrium to see Torrid, he stuck to the back or to the sides. He was content to just drink some beer and listen to their music. He let the diehard fans and the groupies scream themselves deaf in the first few rows.
But tonight, James wanted Megan to experience everything. They were three rows back from center stage amid the screaming fans, most of which were female between the ages of eighteen and thirty-five, hoping to catch the eye of one of the band members.
Megan stayed glued to him. Any movement on either side forced them closer together. He knew from her posture—stiff and alert—that she was uncomfortable. He wouldn’t call this a rough crowd, but it definitely wasn’t her typical country club folks either.
But if James had learned anything tonight, it was that he was an ass for being so presumptuous about Megan. She was classy and sophisticated, that was true. He had no doubt she fit into the country club society. Mainly because she’d lived in it for so long. But she showed him little glimpses tonight of another side. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she could be a little uninhibited.
She loved riding on the back of his bike. She ate pizza and drank beer like it was her last meal. Although he’d sensed her hesitation, she’d followed him into this dark and cavernous place to hear a band she knew nothing about.
She wasn’t altogether comfortable with everything, but James could tell Megan was enjoying this little walk on the wild side. A normal date night for her probably included the ballet or the opera followed by dinner at a fancy restaurant.
A wailing guitar solo cut through the room, causing everyone to jump out of their skin. James had known it was coming. It was how Torrid opened up every show.
Megan jolted beside him and crowded closer to his side. He slipped his arm around her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. In hindsight, the Atrium had been an excellent choice because it allowed him to get up close and personal with her.
The overhead lights came on, and the band was on stage banging into their new single. Torrid was high-energy, loud music, and fuck, they could really play.
His buddy, Coltrain, was the drummer. They were best friends all through school, and usually the motherfucker at least texted a heads-up when he was back in town. James definitely planned to give him shit for that later.
The girl standing on the other side of Megan was self-combusting. She was hopping up and down like a bunny on speed, pulling at her hair. Torrid’s lead singer, Hayden Palmer, moved to the edge of the stage and belted out the chorus of the song as he leaned toward the crowd. Megan shifted even farther into James’s side to get away from the hysterical woman.
Megan looked up at him with wide, startled eyes and mouthed, “Oh, my God.”
He just smiled down at her, wanting to explain that the poor woman’s reaction was tame compared to some he’d seen when Palmer started moving his tight jean-clad hips. Unlike a lot of rock singers, he didn’t yell or screech into the microphone because he was naturally talented. His voice was smooth, and he had incredible range. He was the band member women lost their shit over.
Ironically, Palmer was the most reserved out of all of them. Kind of the deep thinker of the group. But put him on a stage with a spotlight and the man morphed into a sexy, singing god.
James looked down at Megan as the first song ended. She clapped absentmindedly as she looked at their surroundings. With her long legs and high heels, she had no trouble viewing the stage.
The show raged on, and as he’d mentioned to Megan, the band played an even mix of their original songs and some of the classics they’d grown up listening to. James kept a close eye on her, watching for some reaction that she was enjoying herself. The first glimpse came when he spotted her swaying a little when Torrid slid into a slow, seductive rendition of ZZ Top’s “La Grange.” Her sway was minimal, but he could see her hips moving and her shoulders sliding back and forth.
Immediately after, Coltrain started banging on his drums to one of his favorite Guns N’ Roses songs, “Paradise City.” James stuck his finger and thumb in his mouth and blew out a loud, shrill whistle that was drowned out by the other cheers from the crowd. He looked down to see Megan watching him, a smile brightening her gorgeous face as she nibbled on her lower lip.
God, what he wouldn’t give to taste her lips. They were full and pink and looked so fucking delicious. Everything about this woman was delectable.
Pulling his eyes from her tempting mouth, he tried to refocus on the song that was coursing through the crowd like a tidal wave, but the only thing he could think of was how her thigh was touching his upper leg. How her shoulder was pressed into his ribs. He was suddenly boiling in his skin, and it had nothing to do with the rising temperature inside the amphitheater.
As if she read his mind, Megan unbuttoned and wiggled out of her red cardigan before draping it over her purse, which was slung across her body.
“It’s so hot in here!” she yelled up to him. “Must
be all these people packed together in such a small place!”
James could only grunt and nod his agreement because his brain was short-circuiting. The smooth, pale skin of her shoulders called out to him like a siren’s song.
As she turned her attention back to the stage, his eyes roamed over the line of her collarbone to the smooth expanse of her chest. From his vantage point, he could just see a hint of cleavage before her red camisole covered up what looked like gloriously impressive breasts. The rounded mounds looked firm and perfect on her long, lean frame.
James was glad Megan had no idea he was leering. Because he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her even if he wanted to. Fuck, she was stunning.
A boisterous applause, whistles, and cheers pulled him out of his hypnosis. He looked back at the stage and the sounds of Palmer hitting a cowbell, followed by the drums and a familiar guitar melody had Megan and everyone else cheering.
“Oh, my gosh, I love this song!” she yelled from beside him.
James stood stunned as Megan started dancing to “Honky Tonk Woman.” Her hips swayed back and forth in her tight black skirt, her shoulders dipping and rolling with the song. She was seducing him, and she had no idea she was doing it.
When the band hit the chorus, Megan let her head fall back as she belted out the words with the rest of the crowd. He could tell she was completely gone. She was lost somewhere in the music, and the sensual way she moved convinced him she must have been a stripper in a previous life.
He had no idea how this night was going to turn out. He hadn’t even really had any expectations when he asked her to dinner. He’d had Megan pegged all wrong since the day she’d walked into his auto garage, and when the opportunity to spend some time with her had presented itself, he’d rolled with it. At worst, he’d share pizza with a beautiful woman. At best, he’d share pizza with a beautiful woman and have a great evening.
Over dinner he’d realized that he was enjoying her company. She was fun to talk to. She didn’t monopolize the conversation with stories about herself like the few women he’d dated in the past.
Where I Need To Be Page 8
