by R. C. Martin
“If I win, I get to take you out. If you win, you get to choose where we go.”
My mouth falls open and I clamp it shut when he winks at me.
What the fuck? Do I have a stamp on my forehead that says, ‘Looking for a good lay—cocky bastards wanted’? Because that’s what it’s starting to feel like.
“Lighten up,” he says with a chuckle, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’m a good time, guaranteed.”
“Good for you,” I mumble.
“Kidding! Well—sort of. I am a good time. My name is Keith, what’s yours?”
I look away from him, wondering how long I’d have to ignore him before he caught a clue.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just have to call you beautiful. I’m certainly not opposed if you aren’t. It’s true.”
His compliment softens me up just a little and I decide I don’t have to be so rude. The least I can offer him is my name. “My name is Millie.”
“Ah, see? Now we’re getting somewhere. Though, if you won’t race me for a date, I guess I’ll have to go about it the old fashioned way. So how about it? You, me, dinner, Friday night?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” I tell him, looking straight ahead.
“What about if we just happened to be in the same place at the same time?” This time, when I look over at him, he’s not on his treadmill. Instead, he’s standing right beside mine. “Saturday night. There are a few bands playing at The Wash Bar. I’ll be there. I’d love to buy you a drink.”
I stare at him for a moment, struggling to decide if his persistence is annoying or brave. I can’t decide and I’m soon distracted as I’m reminded of the first invitation that I received to attend The Wash Bar this weekend—from Sage.
“Beautiful?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“I’ll think about it,” I reply, for what feels like the tenth time today.
“I hope you do,” he says with a wink.
As I watch him leave, I think about my Saturday night plans and any attempts to shove Sage into the recesses of my mind are eradicated. It seems as if I can’t escape him. I increase the speed on my machine one more time, running for another fifteen minutes before I get off to head home.
THE NEXT TWO DAYs fly by and without a word from Sage. Much to my chagrin, I find myself checking my phone repeatedly, only to realize that I’ve missed not a single call or text. Friday night, when I go to sleep, I rest my head on the pillow that holds the remnants of his scent, and I admit that I miss him. Not just the way he owns my body and the pleasure he all but demands, but the way he pulls me into his arms and holds me before we fall asleep. I miss his smirk and the confidence that shines in his icy blue eyes.
I’m a fucking man who knows exactly what he wants.
I’ve told him no so many times that I can’t be surprised by his silence. Nevertheless, I can’t help but wonder if he’s given up already. His sudden disappearing act has my entire body wondering if I’ll ever feel his touch again. He wanted me and I said I didn’t want the same thing. I’m beginning to see that that was a lie. In spite of all the reasons that tell me he’s a bad idea, I have to admit that he was right. I want him, too.
KEEPING MY COOL and avoiding my phone has me going fucking insane. I haven’t stopped thinking about Millicent since the moment I hung up on her Wednesday afternoon. It was then that I decided that the only way to prove to her stubborn ass that she wants me was to pull away. I remember the look in her eyes when she opened the door and saw me Tuesday night. ‘Shit. I can’t stop,’ she said after she threw herself into my arms. I made her come again and again and again. And when I was done, she let me pull her into my arms and hold her all night.
Chasing after her is a fucking shit show. It’s so damn obvious that she wants me and yet she won’t give in. So, I decided to change my tactics. I sure as hell hope it works. One more night, I just need one more night to convince her to go out with me. I know it. If she doesn’t come to The Wash tonight, I don’t know what will stop me from showing up at her doorstep as soon as our set is over. I miss her and I want her too much to deny it.
Saturday afternoon. Two o’clock. As soon as I get off work. That’s when my silence ends. I’ve been waiting all damn day for this.
Me: Hey, gorgeous. Tonight. We go on at 10. I’ll see you?
I stare at my phone as I walk from Little Bird to my car. I wait as I put the top down and then decide that a few more minutes of silence won’t kill me. I need to take my fucking tampon out and get home. When I arrive, I see Rosy’s car in the drive. She’s sitting out on the front porch playing with Maestro. JJ and Maddox are on the lawn, throwing a frisbee back and forth.
“‘Sup, Sage?” Maddox asks with a nod. JJ waves and Rosy giggles as Maestro sprints towards me.
“Hey,” I mutter as a blanket greeting. I scoop up my dog and kiss the top of his head, arching my neck back when he tries to lick my face. “I love you, too, buddy, but you know how I feel about your tongue on my face. I’ve seen where it’s been. I like my junk, too, but damn.” When I sit beside Rosy, he wiggles out of my arms and I let him go.
“How was work?” Rosy asks, bumping her shoulder against mine. I shrug, trying hard not to think about my phone. It feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket. “Did you do what you said you were going to do?”
“Yeah.”
“And? Has she replied? Is she coming?”
“I don’t know.”
She frowns and then throws her arm around me. My baby sis is pretty small in comparison to me, so her fingers barely reach across the width of my back.
“She won’t be the last girl to knock my big bro on his ass. You just need to keep your eyes open for the next—”
“I’m not going hunting tonight, sis.”
She opens her mouth to speak and then closes her lips as she stares at me contemplatively. A couple seconds go by and then she sucks in a breath and tries again. “I don’t get it, Sage. Don’t get you. We know how often that happens, so explain it to me. You’ve known her for a week. And I use the term known loosely. What is it about her that has you acting . . .”
“Like a fucking pussy?” I finish for her. “Go ahead, say it.”
“Okay, I will,” she says mockingly. “What is it about her that has you acting like a fucking pussy?”
“Don’t talk like that,” I state with a smirk.
“Ugh! Come on!” She moves her arm from around me and elbows me in the ribs. “I will not have you chasing after some snobby, stuck up, wench who doesn’t appreciate you and your awesomeness. You’ve bagged some pretty questionable girls in your day, all of which I overlook—with the exception of that Chelsea chick. I still have no idea what you were thinking when you took her home. I mean—gross. But this Millie woman? Just give me one reason why I should allow you to spend another night pining over her.”
“She’s like a song, Rosy. I’m just not done listening.”
I look over and watch as her expression softens. She then kisses my cheek and rests her head on my shoulder, hugging my arm. “That’s it. I’ve got to meet her. She’s turning my brother into a big ole sap and I love it. She better come tonight. That’s all I’m saying.”
Just then, my phone buzzes in my pocket. We both jump before I reach to pull it out. When Rosy squeals and squeezes my arm, I know she’s peeked and read my new message. I don’t mind, though. It’s good news.
Millie: I’ll see you.
Game on, baby doll.
I CHANGE MY OUTFIT three times. It’s stupid, I know, but I feel like wearing something bold and sexy and it takes me three attempts before I’m satisfied. I decide on a plunging neck, navy blue, drawstring dress. The material is light and drapes comfortably over my body, the hem cut high on my thigh. The spaghetti straps criss-cross over my back and the drawstring around the middle is pulled tight, accentuating my waist. With my back and my shoulders bare, my lack of bra is what makes this dress daring, my minimal cleavage on full display. My hair is pu
lled into a loosely knotted bun at the nape of my neck, drawing even more attention to the crazy amount of skin I’m showing. I finish the ensemble with a pair of yellow stiletto pumps and my hot pink envelop clutch.
I arrive at The Wash Bar a little after nine. There’s a crazy line to get in and I know that inside will be packed. Sage told me earlier that there was going to be a cover charge but that he would make sure my name was on some list. His text instructed me to bypass the line and give the bouncer my name. It’s exactly what I do and I’m allowed in with no fuss.
This place is at least twice the size of The Brew Cycle and buzzing with energy and activity. It’s quite apparent that school is back in session and the students that fill this college town are back and ready to party. There’s a band on stage, in the middle of their set, and a mob of people on the dance floor. The bar is busy, filled with patrons waiting to put in their drink order, and I wonder how I’ll ever find Sage. With less than forty minutes before Mountains & Men take the stage, I decide to wait in line for a drink and worry about finding him after he’s performed.
Fifteen minutes later, my gin and tonic in hand, I’m standing on the outskirts of the dance floor, watching the performing band. I’m startled when a pair of hands take hold of my waist and pull me back against the body behind me.
“You made it,” he whispers in my ear. I jump, spinning around to find Hercules, the selfie guy from the gym, smiling at me. “I think I was supposed to buy you that drink, though.”
“Don’t mention it, it’s fine,” I say, lifting my glass before taking a sip.
“You look hot as shit, beautiful,” he says, taking a step toward me, his hands finding my waist once more. I can tell that he’s already had a few drinks and I wonder how hard it’ll be to shake him. I totally forgot he was going to be here.
“Look, I’m kind of—”
“Hey, I can’t stay, I go on in a few minutes and the guys’ll bitch if I don’t meet up with them soon. But don’t leave, sexy. I’m buying you that drink, later.”
Before I can register all that he’s saying, he leans in and kisses my neck. I recoil, but he doesn’t notice; then I watch him wade through the crowd until I lose him in the darkness.
OUR NINETY MINUTE set is sick as shit. By the time we take the stage, the venue is packed. Knowing Millie is somewhere out there, lost in the crowd, only fuels the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Quite a few of our local fans are in the audience and we have them singing their asses off during our crowd favorites. The guys and I are tight, our sound even better than our last rehearsal. I swear, I don’t remember the last time I had so much fun performing.
I fucking love nights like this. When we murder it, like we just did, I feel it in my gut. This is just the beginning. Mountains & Men are fucking going places. It’s only a matter of time.
“Let’s get this shit out of here,” grumbles Keith, loading his arms with gear. “There’s a girl out there whose ass is mine and my dick is thirsty.”
“Fuck. Nobody gives a shit about your dick, Keith,” mutters JJ.
“Got that right,” pipes in Knox with a laugh. “Maybe you should give me her name, no sense in her wasting her time with the likes of you.”
“Shut the fuck up. Even if I knew her name, I wouldn’t tell you. You’ll have to find your own skank.”
“Wow, Keith—really classy. You don’t even know her name?” Rosy scoffs as all six of us climb down the stairs and head toward the back entrance with our first load.
“Hey, babe, you look hot,” says Maddox, tapping my sister’s ass with his guitar case.
“Thanks, Maddox,” she hums, forgetting all about Keith.
I roll my eyes and ignore him. I know he does that shit to get a rise out of me; but I also know that Andrea’s around here somewhere and they’re still together this week—not to mention Maddox is almost as much of a brother to Rosy as I am. Almost.
“Hey, what are you doing back here?” I ask her as she follows us. I glance at her outfit, noting that she’s in a pair of tight jeans, a barely there tank top, and heels. Suddenly, I’m glad she’s with us and not out there with the mob of assholes I’m sure have been staring at her all night.
“The roomie brought some friends and they wanted to meet M&Ms totally hot lead singer.” She laughs when Derrick grunts. “Be nice. I told them I could do better than just Sage. So will you come?”
“I’ve got to find Millie, Rose. I—”
“Dweeb—help me out, here. Five minutes! We don’t all have a hot chick out there waiting for us.”
“Yeah, please, big bro? Help me score some cool points. What good is it being related to you if I can’t show you off like a shiny new toy every once and a while?”
I laugh, shaking my head at the both of them before I reluctantly agree. “Fine. Five minutes.”
UP THERE ON THAT stage, he’s sexier than I remember. Knowing what he can do to my body, remembering every dip and curve of the physique that hides beneath his clothes, imagining what it feels like when he rolls his hips against mine while I watch him up there seducing the crowd—needless to say, I’m hot and wet and aching to see him as soon as his set is over.
I don’t take my eyes off the stage as I watch them empty it of their equipment. When I catch sight of Hercules making his way back across the platform to gather another load, I still can’t believe that he’s part of the band. Though, why I didn’t recognize him before doesn’t take much guess work. I’m sure it’ll come as a surprise to him when he finds out that I wasn’t here for him, but for Sage.
After they’re finished with their tear down, I can’t help but smile when I spot Sage making his way from the back and into the crowd. Perched on the periphery of the dance floor, I can’t decide whether or not I should go to him or stay put and allow him to find me. Before I can make up my mind, I watch as a girl sidles up beside him and takes his hand. The petite brunette smiles up at him and he lets her drag him toward a bunch of girls who seem to gush with excitement at the sight of him. He laughs and flirts with them, posing for selfies, and my stomach drops.
As if I’ve been drenched with a bucket of cold water, I stand in horrified shock. It only takes me a second to realize that I’m not shocked by his behavior, but by mine! I can’t believe I came tonight with the expectation that he still wanted me—wanted us.
Fuck. There’s no us! What was I thinking?
I’m completely irritated with myself knowing that this was why I knew pursuing anything with him was a bad idea; and yet, I’m here. For every woman that says no to him, there are a dozen more waiting in the wings to say yes. I’m obviously not the only one who looks at him and melts with lust. He’s sex on a stick with a fucking voice that would make any girl drop her panties on demand.
Of course, I would know. I’ve done it. More than once.
I feel like an idiot. He went two days without speaking to me and I was stupid enough to think that it didn’t erase everything he said about wanting me. I let myself get caught up in him and I let my guard slip just a fraction of an inch, and now I’m paying for it.
I’m sure of two things when it comes to sex: with a little effort, I can coax a cock into my pussy; and when it’s all said and done, eventually, he’ll leave. They always do. I don’t know why I thought that Sage would be different. I don’t know how I could have let two nights of incredible sex bring me to this place where I now feel rejected. Honestly, I have no one to blame but myself.
“Surprised?”
For the second time tonight, I jump at the sound of his voice. Thanks to Sage’s introductions during the show, I now remember that his name is Keith. I shake my head in a failed attempt to shake off my disappointment from a moment ago and peer up at the tall, blonde figure in front of me. “I’m sorry, what?”
“The show—did I surprise you?”
“Yeah,” I mutter honestly.
“You can tell me what you thought over that drink,” he says, throwing his arm around my shoulders.
“No way,” he insists, gripping his arm around my waist as he ushers me to the bar. “One drink, beautiful. One drink with me and I bet home is the last place you’ll want to be.”
“Keith, I appreciate the gesture, but—”
“Come on,” I whines, spinning around to face me. “You can’t leave, not now that I can appreciate your attention. One drink.”
I sigh, unable to deny that a drink does sound appealing, regardless of the company. “Fine. One drink.”
FIVE MINUTES WITH my sister and her new friends turns into ten and I’m beyond relieved when Rosy links her arm through mine and helps me escape. After I thank her for getting me out of there, she tells me that the only thank you she’ll accept is an introduction to the girl who has me completely on edge at the moment. I concede to her demand, anxious for any excuse to find Millie.
The crowd that I was thrilled about a half an hour ago is the bane of my existence now. After fifteen minutes, we still haven’t found her. I have no idea how in the hell I’m supposed to spot her in the sea of people that fills this place. I try calling her phone, but she doesn’t answer—not that I’m surprised. It’s loud as fuck in here.
“I could help if I knew what she looked like!” Rosy yells up at me over the noise.
“I told you—light brown hair, dark green eyes, legs for days.”
“Right,” she mutters dubiously. “That’s so helpful.”
“Shit, Rosy, I don’t know what she’s wearing—it’s the best I can do.”
“Okay—calm down, Sage. We’ll find her,” she says, squeezing my arm. “Let’s try the bar again?”
“Yeah, okay.”
As I search for Millicent’s face, I begin to question if she’s even here. She said she’d come, but what if she changed her mind? It’s entirely possible that I pissed her off with my two days of silence and she decided I wasn’t worth the effort. Our set ended forty minutes ago—if she was looking for me like I’m looking for her, wouldn’t we have found each other by now?
