“Why does she do that?”
“Who do what?” Lissa looked around behind me.
“Georgia. Dress like that.” I looked away as Georgia bent over to give a beer to someone across their table.
Lissa frowned slightly, almost sardonically. “Surely you’ve been in a bar or two in your day.” She stepped back, holding her arms out and turning once.
I could see she wasn’t dressed much differently than Georgia. Lissa was wearing an electric blue skirt that matched the highlights in her hair, and a black tank top without straps. I think my sister had called that a tube top. She was right. At nearly every bar I’d been in, the female bartenders played up their assets. That’s just part of the culture. But as I chewed my lip and stared into my empty pint glass, I wished it wasn’t.
The familiar clip-clop of Georgia’s dangerously high heels signaled her return. Peeking up slightly, I caught Lissa staring at me for a few seconds before she returned to the other end of the bar.
“Regan,” Georgia set the empty tray down in front of me, “I wanted to run something by you.”
“Shoot.” I wished she were still wearing those old jeans and that purple tank top. Purple did killer things for her eyes.
“Well,” she said as she leaned forward the way I’d seen her do all last night. I didn’t want her thinking I expected that from her. “The apartment across from mine is open. It’s right on the water. Like, leave door, cross street, fall off small cliff into the ocean. I know it seems far from here, but it’s only about a twenty-five minu—”
“Yes!” My tongue and my lips produced the answer before my brain caught up. “But, why the hell didn’t you mention this earlier?”
She shrugged, her cheeks seeming to blush a little. “I didn’t know if you’d be interested. From what CJ told me last night, you were intent on live down here in South Park.”
“It seems like an awesome neighborhood, but I just can’t find a place...” I ran a hand through my hair, then tied it back.
“You could always stay with me,” Lissa piped in. “Where’d you tell him there was an opening, G?”
Georgia shooed Lissa away with a wave of her hand. “Mind your own damn business for once.”
“Fine,” Lissa exaggerated a sigh, “guess I’ll just have to go flirt with CJ.”
I looked behind me and found him reentering the bar, stretching his arms overhead.
“Don’t worry.” I laughed a little. “You won’t have to do that much work. He’s kind of a sure thing.”
“Funny,” Lissa looked between Georgia and me, “that’s what she said last night. You two share a brain or something?”
Georgia shook her head. “No, we just know CJ. So,” she turned back to me, “want to come look at the place tomorrow? I’ll get the key and show you around.”
“That’d be great.” Relieved and overwhelmed at the turn my housing search had taken, I smiled and slapped the edge of the bar.
“Georgia! Order up!” A stern male voice hollered from the back.
She curled her lip, flaring the nostril that held that tiny stud. A look that would have told the guy to shut the hell up, had he been able to see it. “All right, off again. Good luck tonight.”
Georgia darted back to the kitchen, returning with a full tray of food and hurried off to three different tables.
“What was that about?” CJ asked as he sat down.
“I think I just found a place to live.”
“With Georgia? Lucky...”
“No, hormone central, the place across from hers.”
CJ ordered a beer from a very attentive Lissa. “That’s going to be one hell of an adventure.”
I looked over to the corner of the bar at those tiny red shorts, wondering what I’d done in my moment of housing desperation.
“I’m sure it will, Ceej.”
Georgia
“Here ya go, Jake.”
Jake winked at me as I set his beer down, leaning back in his chair just far enough to study the length of my shorts from behind.
“Thanks, sugar.” He licked his lips.
I smacked the back of his head. “You know I hate that nickname.”
“Aw, come on. It’s sweet, just like we were.”
His friends whistled in mock-reverence at his apparent accomplishment of getting me in bed.
“Sweet? We?” I tapped the pad of my index finger on my bottom lip as I looked up at the lights. “Ah, yes, as sweet as five minutes can be.” I strode away from the table as the whistles turned into jeers and teasing.
That boy didn’t have a goddamn clue. It was a shame, too, given what a Ken Doll he was. I’d left the bar with Jake six weeks ago, and, bless his heart, he returned every single Saturday and Sunday since, asking for “another chance.”
“Last night that good?” Lissa bumped her bony hip into mine once I got back behind the bar.
“What?”
“That smile?”
“Oh, ha, no...” Out of the corner of my eye I caught CJ and Regan turn their heads in our direction. “Six weeks ago was that good for Jake.”
Lissa looked over my shoulder. “Oh for the love of ... is he still following you around like a puppy? Can’t he take a hint?”
Without asking, I slid two beers in front of Regan and CJ. Looking at them, still talking to Lissa, I continued. “Hints don’t matter if you know what you want. You just go until you get it.”
CJ grinned and nodded. Always on my wavelength. Regan, though, looked down and shifted in his seat. He didn’t particularly strike me as a prude, and I’m certain CJ would have warned me if anyone in his gene pool behaved in such a manner, but he always looked uncomfortable when I was around.
“When’d you dye your hair?” CJ cocked his head and looked at me like he was working through an algebra equation.
“Wow, it’s only taken you twenty-four hours to realize my hair is a different color than the last time you saw me?”
“What color is it supposed to be?” Regan piped up.
I lifted an eyebrow as my eyes slowly shifted to him. “It’s supposed to be any color I want it to be.”
He rolled his eyes. I didn’t much care for his “I’m too good for this scene” attitude.
“Black.” CJ blurted out, sounding annoyed if my ears interpreted things correctly.
“What the hell’s your problem?” I felt like I’d been asking people that all night.
CJ shrugged, staring at me rather incredulously. “That guy, G? Really? He looks like a massive douchebag.”
Regan and I laughed at the same time. “CJ,” I caught my breath, “I’ve been picking up guys like that for as long as you’ve taught me how they operate.”
“Did you just call me a douchebag?” His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.
“I did.” I set my hands on my hips.
“Well, none of us deserve you.” He winked. I’d never seen him wink to any girl he was taking home, so I’m not sure exactly what the hell he ever meant by it.
“As long as you know that, I’d say we’re all set here.” Just then, the door opened, escorting in those annoyingly beautiful people. I nodded to the door. “Your band is here.”
Holding hands as they walked, they made my stomach churn.
“What’s that look on your face?” Regan’s rich voice sent chills down my back. Where he couldn’t see.
“Do they ever stop smiling? Are they always that happy?” I nodded to the prom king and queen.
Regan’s eyes seemed to dull for a minute. “Which do you want me to answer first?” He tried to chuckle, but it wasn’t sincere.
“Neither, my food order is up.” Before the syrup that was Bo and Ember could ooze over the bar and onto me, I made a break for the kitchen.
Standing next to the stainless steel counter, waiting for the rest of my order, I ran through as many busy thoughts as I could to keep my mind away from last night.
Lissa saddled up next to me, snapping her fingers at the line cook befo
re speaking to me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
No.
“I saw you leave with Dex last night.”
“You did.” I nodded, bile rising through my body.
“Aw, shit,” she groaned, “is he bad? He looks like he’d be amazing in bed.”
My shoulders twitched a little. “He was ... okay.”
“That blows. Will he be in tonight, you think? You know, part of the puppy brigade with Jake.”
“God, who knows.” As I reached for an oversized bowl of soup, my hand slipped, dumping steaming hot liquid down my right arm and the front of my shirt. “Shit!”
Lissa tossed me a rag as I silently cursed the asshole who would order soup in a place that rarely dipped below seventy degrees.
“Shit, are you okay?” Lissa shrieked.
“Ugh, I need to change my shirt, and take this fucking cuff off, now that it’s probably ruined. Can you take the food to my table?”
“You got it.” Her voice faded as I pushed through the double doors and walked to the back room.
I cursed again when I crossed the threshold and tore off my cuff, casting it onto the tattered couch.
“G?” CJ rapped on the doorframe, causing me to jump. “I heard you yell from the stage. Thought I’d come check...” He trailed off, his words plunging somewhere into our past. One we never talked about.
“I’m fine. Fuckin’ soup.” I peeled off my soaked tank top and pulled on an E’s Tavern T-shirt, rolling up the sleeves and tying the back into a tight knot with a hair elastic, right above my lower back.
CJ didn’t even flinch when I was just in my bra a few feet from him. We’d spent so much time together smoking pot in the back room of Dunes back in Provincetown, I’m sure he’d caught more than a glimpse of me in my bra a time or two.
“Well, as long as you’re okay...”
“I’m fine, CJ,” I snapped.
“Christ, all right. What is it with everyone today? Anyway, Regan says the apartment across from you is open”
“It’s in La Jolla, right on the water.” I took off my leather cuff and wrapped it in some paper towel, hoping to salvage it from the cream of mushroom.
“The fuck is that?” CJ paced toward me, pulling his hands from his pockets.
I lifted the bracelet. “Just a cuff I picked up at this second hand store down the str—”
“No,” he tenderly wrapped his fingers around my forearm and grazed his thumb across my purple wrist, “this.”
“A bruise.” I tried to keep my voice even, but knew CJ would tear down the facade in a second. He could see through any half-truth of mine as if I’d left the shades open and was walking around the inside of my conscience naked. I pulled my arm back and he released it without a fight.
CJ’s eyes darkened and narrowed at once, as if he were morphing into someone else. Someone only I knew. “That doesn’t look like just a bruise.”
“Whatever it is you think it looks like, it’s not.”
“That guy you left with last night. Him?” He crossed his arms over his chest, taking up a majority of the doorway with his massive shoulders. I sighed as I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me that look, G. I’m not overreacting.”
“Actually, you are a little. This isn’t senior year. I’m not that girl anymore.” I squared my shoulders to his, my hands on my hips.
“Yeah?” he challenged. “Then, who are you?”
I smiled, trying to break the angry red cloud between us. “Come on, Ceej, you know who I am. We built us. Remember? We learned from each other. How to pick ‘em, how to bed ‘em.”
CJ would give me pointers on how to look attractive, rather than desperate. How to play hard to get. I taught him the same thing. Despite how piggish he might seem to some, he actually uses those techniques every goddamn night. It’s not that he’s a pig, really. It’s that the girls get mad they ever fell for it.
“It’s different for us, Georgia. I’m a guy.”
“Uh-uh, don’t you dare start that shit with me. It’s not different, that’s the whole goddamn point. Don’t go all gender roles on me now, Kane.” I waved my finger in his face and he took both of my arms in his giant hands, just like they were his sticks.
He sighed. “You’re right. Sorry.” The top of his left cheek twitched a little. He didn’t believe the words he was saying, but he wanted to. I needed him to, too. He cleared his throat. “You gonna tell me what happened to your wrist?”
I shrugged. “Guess Dex thought my bedroom walls were red.” I laughed at his confused look, trying to cover up the nausea I felt at constructing yet another lie. And, throwing Dex under the bus with it. “God, read a book once in a while.”
Just then, Lissa appeared in the doorway. “Knock, knock. You cleaned up, girl? You’ve got thirsty customers. Including Dex.”
I froze. Just for a second, but CJ’s grip tightened before he let go. He caught my reaction and seemed to file it away as he slid his hands into his pockets. I needed to keep CJ far away from Dex. Far away from asking about the reality of last night at all.
“Great.” I scraped some sarcasm from the back of my tightening throat and slathered it across my words.
I slid past CJ without meeting his eyes. I needed a shot, and for CJ to get on stage, and for Dex to eat and leave. All at once.
That way no one would get hurt.
No one.
Regan
Ember bounced her knee as her high heel dangled off the dowel in the stool. “God,” she groaned, “where the hell is CJ?” She’d been tense all afternoon. I didn’t know what was sticking to her, but Bo seemed to be checking her for live wires, as well.
Thankfully, CJ strode out of the back hallway a second later, just behind Georgia.
“Couldn’t wait until later tonight, CJ?” Ember did little to control the volume of her voice. Bo’s eyes widened as they darted between Ember and CJ.
Georgia stopped in her tracks and walked with baleful control toward Ember, who paid her no attention. Until Georgia was standing an inch away from her, angry eyes narrowed until I could nearly only see her pupils.
“Wait until later tonight for what?” Georgia’s chest heaved between her narrow shoulders. She’d changed out of her tank top and was wearing a black bar t-shirt that she’d manipulated to still show her belly button. I loved that her stomach wasn’t overly tanned or tight.
“Let it go, Georgia,” CJ grumbled as he pushed past me and settled behind his set. Georgia shot him a killer look. Turning around, I found him mirroring it back to her as he stretched his head from side to side, rolling his shoulders back. He shifted his eyes to me. “Let’s warm up.”
I turned back around and found Ember tying back her hair as Georgia continued to stare at her, taking one, two, three steps backward before she turned toward the bar.
“What the hell?” I whispered.
“What?” Ember shrugged. “She’s a bitch.”
“I swear to God, Ember, shut up.” CJ was speaking through clenched teeth.
“Oh fuck off, CJ. She is. She’s given me nasty looks since she first laid eyes on me. She hangs all over everyone at this bar like she’s the damn ocean breeze, and she gets offended when I suggest she was fooling around with you in the back room? Please.” She turned and adjusted her mic stand.
CJ stood up so fast his stool crashed into the wall behind him. “I said shut up!”
“CJ.” Bo stepped between the drum set and where Ember was sitting. CJ hadn’t moved more than just to stand up, but I found myself inching toward him, as well.
I gotta hand it to Ember. Despite the first row of people in front of the stage going silent at the sight of my bear of a cousin a millisecond away from losing his temper, she calmly turned around. The way she maneuvered on her stool made her look like she was on a rotating display in a jewelry case.
Ember didn’t have a chance to reply. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of blonde hair dart past me. Georgia snaked her way around me and
behind the drum set. I couldn’t see the look on her face, but it seemed to calm CJ. She placed one small hand on his shoulder and I watched them relax before my eyes. Just as quickly as she came, she left without ever addressing the rest of us.
I scanned the faces of my bandmates, each looking more confused than the other. “Are we ... set?”
CJ readjusted his seat and raised his sticks. “Let’s start with “Window”.”
I threw my head back in hard laughter, and Bo and Ember followed. Guster was the least CJ-like band on the planet. He often sat out last summer when we’d fool around with some of their songs. Why he’d choose that song, especially when Ember had just royally pissed him off, was confusing at best.
“Fuck you guys. Are you in or not? You start vocals, Ember, and Bo, can you back off and I’ll take over second vocals? It will sound better that way.” He cleared his throat and held his sticks out. “What?”
“Nothing,” we all answered at once. Nothing as in Ember and CJ had never sung together, not to mention I hadn’t heard CJ sing in years. He could, and well, but he never did.
Bo and I tuned quickly and Ember set her stool aside and let her hair down. She shifted some mics around and moved one back to CJ, who just nodded at her.
Georgia hopped back up on stage, taking hold of the mic in front of me in order to announce us. As the applause rose, I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “How’d you do that?”
“Do what?” she whispered back playfully. She smelled like basil, or mint, or something. I liked that she didn’t always smell the same.
“Calm the beast.” I tilted my head to the back of the stage. CJ’s quick temper was rarely easily quelled.
She shrugged. “He’s not that complicated.” Georgia turned on her heels and with a skip-step was off the stage and back into the crowd, a fourth tattoo peeking from the bottom of her shirt. Rather than head down to the lowest part of her back, like tattoos on the other girls in the bar, hers seemed to go up further. It looked like there were little feet, or leaves, dancing up her spine.
Bo spoke his thanks to the crowd and counted us off. He strummed the up-tempo intro, and as soon as I joined in, my eyes fell on Georgia. She’d just set drinks in front of a table of girls, and she turned toward the stage, her empty tray hanging loosely by her side. Ember entered the song beautifully, and Georgia’s eyes moved to her, a faraway smile brushing her lips.
Sweet Forty-Two Page 4
