by Jaye Ripley
A random waitress walking by pours more coffee without us asking. Mel fixes her coffee with two sugars and two creams. Noted.
She stops talking mid-sentence. I look at her confused, and her eyes move from me to the space beside me. The waitress stands next to us staring, the pot of coffee in her hand trembling a bit.
“We’re good with coffee, thanks,” I tell her.
“I’m so sorry,” she gushes. “But are you Hunter Ford?”
Damn, I do not want Mel to see shit like this. But I can’t afford not to play to the fans. I plaster a fake grin on my face. “I sure am. You a fan of Tailgate Down?”
My question opens the floodgate for her to word vomit all of her admiration all over me. My body shifts in the fan’s direction, but Mel stays in my peripheral vision. My stomach tightens at what she must be thinking right now.
“So would you mind taking a pic with me? I can’t wait to post this on Instagram. Me and Hunter Ford.”
“I’m kind of here with my girlfriend right now.”
Holy shit, that’s a risk and a half. I look fully at Mel. Her eyebrow quirks up, but her smile reveals jack shit. Except, damn, she’s actually amused at my discomfort.
“Um.” The waitress gives half her attention to Mel. “Would you mind taking a picture of us?” She holds out her camera not giving Mel a chance to turn her down.
“Sure, why not.” Mel takes the phone from the girl and tells us to get close together. She snickers as she says, “Say cheese.”
The manager comes over and chastises the waitress. He offers to pay for our meal, and I decline. Encounters like this one don’t happen often, but when they do I have to handle them as professionally as possible. We talk briefly, and he shakes my hand. I hope the waitress doesn’t get into too much trouble.
Mel grins like a cat that’s caught a mouse in her paws and wants to play with it first before eating it.
“Should I be honored that my boyfriend is the Hunter Ford?”
My brow furrows. “That didn’t freak you out?”
She takes a sip of coffee. “Which part? The one where a busty young fan pushes her boobs against you or when you called me your girlfriend?”
How can she be so casual when last night she so clearly wanted to run away?
“I guess the fan part since I was joking about calling you my girlfriend.”
“I knew that.”
Damn. So she doesn’t like the label. The little hope in my heart deflates.
“So about the fan. Seriously, no issues?” I look at her incredulously.
She shakes her head. “I’m guessing groupies come with the territory of being in a band. Especially being its hunky lead singer. Besides, have you ever slept with a groupie?”
I shift in discomfort. “Mel,” I start.
“No. That wasn’t the right verb tense. Let me try this again. Are you planning on sleeping with her?”
“Hell no.” My quick response comes out a little too loud. A couple of heads turn our way. “Hell no,” I repeat in a lower tone.
She nods. “And are you going to sleep with the groupies in Nashville?”
I shake my head. “No.”
She leans back. “Then what’s to be upset about? Here, I’ll make you a deal. Anybody you kiss, I have to kiss. Same goes for sex.”
Now I shift in my seat because of a different hard discomfort. “That’s not exactly the best deterrent.”
“Yeah, but the same rule exists for you. If you kiss somebody, expect me to do the same. And whoever I kiss…think about that if the opportunity ever tempts you.”
EJ would die to hear this conversation. And right on cue, my phone beeps.
“You still with Mel, fucker?”
“Yes, EJ. Having breakfast.”
“Sweet. Fist bump. You coming to Nana’s?”
“Not if you’re gonna grill me.”
Mel watches me texting. “Who’s that?”
“EJ. He’s just giving me shit.”
She smirks. “Tell him that you’re arranging a three-way with me and one of the waitresses. Let’s see how he handles that?”
There’s no trace of scheming or baiting in Mel’s tone. She’s playful and willing to wind up EJ. I text Mel’s message and wait.
“No fucking way!!!! You’re idea or hers?”
“Hers.”
“Fuck yeah. You must keep her. Bring her to Nana’s so I can kiss her perfect ass.”
“You keep your hands off her!”
“Touchy. So when will we be seeing you?”
“I don’t know. Will ttyl.”
I put the phone away. Mel looks at me with expectant eyes.
“So, what did he say?”
“He thinks you’re a perfect woman. Also, he invited us to his grandmother’s place for brunch.”
Her nose wrinkles. “I like EJ’s grandma. She’s sweet. But if you don’t mind, I’d rather go home after we finish eating.”
My heart sinks a little.
“It’s just that someone kept me up all night. These are my normal sleeping hours. You know us vampires don’t like the sunlight.” She jokes, but her tone indicates something more serious underneath. “Oh, hell yeah. Bacon. The cure for everything.”
A different waitress sets out our food. Plates cover the tiny table. We move everything to fit it all. The last plate she sets down has pumpkin pancakes on it.
“Wait, we didn’t order that.” Mel hovers over the pancakes but doesn’t touch them.
“I did.”
Her eyes widen full of surprise and hunger. “When?”
“While talking to the manager. I told him that a plate of pumpkin pancakes would even the score.”
She doesn’t wait any longer, cutting off a bite and popping it in her mouth. She chews with her eyes closed and moans. Another note taken. Give Mel food that causes her to make obscene noises.
She opens her eyes. “So you get hit on by a groupie fangirl, and I get pancakes?”
I nod.
She places a piece of bacon and a scoop of eggs on top of a pancake. Cutting off another slice, she puts the huge bite in her mouth and mutters something under her breath.
Although her mouth’s full, I swear she says, “I think I’m in love.”
Me too, Mel. Me too.
16
Hunter
It’s been less than 24 hours since I dropped Mel off at her place. Since then, we’ve texted a bunch, talked on the phone for a couple of hours, and had a pretty sexual FaceTime encounter sometime after midnight.
I pull up to her driveway and park the truck behind what I figure is Bethany’s tiny Mini Cooper. Grabbing the gifts I bought for the two inhabitants of the place, I make my way to the door and knock on it with my boot.
No one answers. My phone’s in my back pocket, and I’ll crush the flowers if I shift them to my other arm to retrieve it. My boot kicks again a little louder. I press my ear to the door but hear nothing. Maybe surprising Mel this early on her day off was a really shitty idea. But since time isn’t on our side, I don’t want to waste one second.
I kick on the door repeatedly until something crashes inside. Feet stomp on the floor, getting closer to me until the locks jiggle and the door jerks open. Bethany stands in the doorway, her blonde hair in a tangled mess piled on her head, her oversized and tattered T-shirt laying off her shoulder and over a tiny pair of shorts, and a hand on her hip.
“What time do you think it is? I barely got my ass into bed.” She glares up at me.
Shit. Forgot that the two roommates might not be on the same schedule.
“Hey Bethany. You think it’ll be okay if I wake Mel up? Here, I got you these.” I hold out the bouquet of mixed flowers to her. “Thank you for packing Mel’s bag with all the protection.”
The cellophane crinkles as she takes the bunch. She looks at the flowers and back up at me. Her mouth stays in a slight frown, but her eyes sparkle a bit. “I hope you put them to good use.” She sniffs the flowers. “These are nice. What’s in your o
ther hand?”
I show her the gold box. “Chocolates.”
“Well, shit. Aren’t you the perfect Southern gentleman, bringing gifts to your girl? And her roommate. You play your game well, Mr. Sexy Singer. I guess you can come in.”
Their place isn’t palatial, but it’s also not cramped. Simple modern furniture fills up the room without crowding it. My eyes scan for anything personal of Mel’s that will give me more clues to who she is.
It takes a minute for me to notice Bethany watching me. “I’m sorry. Guess I’m kind of invading here.”
She points to a hallway. “Mel’s bedroom is the one to the right. But first, you must answer some questions, mister.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.
A laugh bubbles up my throat, but I swallow it. Mel’s petite roommate has her best interests at heart. And to win the favor of Bethany might help me figure out how to keep what I’ve just found.
“Fire away.”
“First question. Counting Mel, how many girls do you normally woo and dump?”
My cough nearly chokes me. For such a tiny thing, she’s kicked me in the emotional nuts.
“Hell of a question. Kind of insulting, too.”
“Don’t care. Answer it.” She stands her ground.
I frown. “I don’t pick up girls, if that’s what you mean. No groupies. No after show hook ups.”
“What the hell do you call the other night?”
That’s the same question Mac asked me yesterday. And I still don’t have a clear answer for the question.
“The truth is, I don’t really know. It wasn’t a one-night stand because here I am a day later, ‘wooing’ her as you say. And if I can convince her to take a chance, I have no intention of doing any dumping. I’m actually trying to prevent her from getting rid of me.”
Bethany nods, and her eyes soften for a second. She clears her throat. “Okay. Question two. What about you leaving for Nashville?”
God, Bethany. Personal much? She and Mac are two peas in a pod. I could shove her out of the way and go back to Mel’s room. But doing that will get me thrown out or have the game called off all together.
“I can see where moving away isn’t ideal for dating someone,” I start.
“So you’re dating Mel? You’re not just hooking up?”
“Is that the next question? Or part of the same one?” I counter. Before she answers, I continue. “Look, I’ve got limited time here, and I want to spend as much of it as possible getting to know her. She’s fucking incredible.”
These are words I should be saying to Mel, not her roommate. But in a way, saying them out loud helps me think through all the questions running around in my head.
“And with today’s technology, I see no reason why we can’t try to find a way to work things out if that’s where this is headed. All I know is, I’d rather try than to break things off now. Even if we only get a few weeks, the time with her will mark me.”
Bethany unfolds her arms. She opens her mouth once, but closes it as she stares at me. A small smile spreads on her lips. In a lower tone, she says, “Question three.”
I can’t suppress a small groan.
“Question three. You want a piece of advice from me to help you?”
My body straightens at the piece of good news. “Yes. Absolutely.”
“Don’t dick around with her.”
“That sounds more like a warning.”
She shrugs. “You can take it that way if you need to. She’s had enough disappointments in her life when it comes to relationships. They don’t come easy for her, and she thinks that it’s easier to be alone in this world than to deal with the pain.”
I nod. “She kind of hinted last night that she has trust issues.”
Bethany scoffs. “That’s a mild way of summing up a lifetime of crap. Her story to tell, not mine. Just…be up front with her. Be honest. I can’t promise that she’ll choose not to shut you out. But I think if she knows you’re not bullshitting her, then the choice is up to her. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“One more thing.” Bethany walks over to me. She takes the box of chocolates from my hand. “I’m the one who loves chocolate. Not her. And she hates frou frou flowers.”
Shit. Last night I practically ordered her to eat some and shoved it in her mouth.
“But now I won’t have anything for her when I wake her up.”
Bethany’s eyes slide from mine down my torso to my pants. “You sure about that? Rumor has it you have plenty to give her.”
My hands rake down my face. “Do you girls share everything?”
She laughs and plops down on the couch. “Not everything. But almost. Enough. Now go on and wake up your sleeping princess. I dare you. And try to keep the noise down to a respectable level.”
My cheeks burn. “I’m just waking her up.”
“Yeah, right. You show up here with gifts, and you’re just waking her up with no other agenda. I’m an adult with a healthy sex life. I’m glad you’re helping her to get healthy again, too.” She gives me a thumbs-up.
I groan and roll my eyes. “So you’ll be out here instead of bed?”
Bethany holds up a pair of headphones. “I’ll watch some TV and eat the chocolate some sexy man brought into our home. Besides, I owe her for a few nights I might have overused my own vocal chords.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
“I’m outta here. Room on the right, you said?”
She opens the golden box and pops a chocolate in her mouth. “Mm-hmm. Good luck. And Hunter?”
I stop in the hallway entrance. Almost got away.
She swallows the candy down and looks me dead in the eye. “If you hurt her, I’ll kick your ass. I might be tiny, but my knees are as hard and bony as the next person’s. Consider yourself nutless if you hurt my girl.”
With quick strides, I reach the back of the couch. Leaning over, I kiss the top of her golden head. “Thank you for looking out for her.”
She stops feeding herself another chocolate, and pulls the bouquet of flowers to her. Pulling out a yellow daisy, she hands it to me and winks.
I knock lightly on the door to the bedroom on the right, and wait for an answer. It takes Bethany yelling for me to stop knocking and go in to give me the courage to turn the doorknob.
Mel’s body takes up the entire bed. She’s spread eagle over the mattress, a light sheet covering only her lower half. Her arms reach out toward the edges, and one of her feet dangles over the far edge of the bed. Even her hair spreads out over the entire pillow, covering it in dark brown strands.
She wears an old concert T-shirt from a local band with ripped holes in it. With her body stretched out, the shirt barely covers below her breasts. The hint of string underwear peeks out from under a twist of the sheet. My whole body aches at the sight of her. I’m torn between alerting her to my presence and waking her up with my head between her legs. Both choices offer rewards and pitfalls. Either one might get me slapped.
I take the simple flower and run it down her nose. It twitches under the light tickle. She turns her head away from me. My fingers brush her hair off her neck, and the flower travels down her long neck. Her hand bats it away, and she rolls over with a grunt. Stubborn woman.
The sheet falls off her body with a kick. Her round ass presents itself covered only in a thin strip of fabric in between her cheeks. My hand itches to touch her smooth skin, palm her firm ass, and massage her plump flesh until she wakes up with my hand between her thighs.
Unable to hold back any longer, I reach my hand out and touch her shoulder, unwilling to get too personal.
“Mel.”
No response. My hand rubs her shoulder lightly and works its way down her back. Maybe I should crawl into bed with her and wrap my entire body around her.
“Mel, honey, wake up.” My voice rises to above a whisper.
“Too early,” she mumbles. Her hand strikes out and smacks my cheek.
“Ouch.” I rub the spot. It won�
��t bruise, but it wasn’t the lightest of touches.
Her body stiffens, and she rolls over, eyes half-opened. “Hunter?”
“Morning, sunshine.” My hand caresses my cheek in mock pain.
She sits upright, yanking the sheet over her body. “What the hell are you doing here? In my bedroom?”
I smile. “Told you that the next time we were together, I wanted to be able to see you in the light. Still gorgeous, by the way.”
Her hand reaches up to her hair to smooth out the mess she imagines. She’s sexy as hell, all disheveled and sleepy.
“Um, can you stay here while I go take of some things?”
I chuckle. “Sure.”
She climbs out of bed, dragging the sheet with her, covering her body.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you can leave the sheet here. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen what’s under there, and as far as I’m concerned, I’d prefer if you walked around naked anyway.” I wink at her.
She stares for a short second. With her signature crooked grin, she drops the sheet. In a few seconds, she shimmies her tiny panties down her hips and legs, and whips the worn T-shirt off her body. My mouth opens, and my eyes rake over her perfect naked form, my cock straining against my jeans.
Mel smirks at me, and walks out of the room, the door slamming behind her.
Note to self: Do whatever it takes to be the one who wakes up Mel every morning.
17
Mel
Once I clear the doorway with my confident strut, I sprint to the bathroom. No girl wakes up in perfect shape with makeup in place, hair brushed out in perfect waves, and clean teeth. I multitask to make myself as presentable as possible.
What the hell is he doing here? We just got off our phones video chatting not that long ago. But then again, he has limited time to be able to wake me up in person. Maybe he gets a pass, although my room’s a mess. And dear lord, he better not open up the drawer next to the bed. No need for him to meet what’s been serving to get me off until the other night.
Someone knocks on the bathroom door. I spit the toothpaste out and open the door slowly.
