Raising my hands in surrender I say, “I just asked this guy I go to school with over there,” I point to where Kyle sits, “and he said that they’d posted it on Facebook.”
“Face what?” He asks. The blank look on Frankie’s face is comical.
Laughing I say, “Facebook. You know the social site that everyone gets on to keep up with the boring shit that’s happening in their friends’ lives.”
Waving his hand in a dismissal he says, “Whatever, they’ll just have to figure out how to set up their own shit. Where’s Dean, by the way?”
Pointing in the direction of the door I say, “He’s at the door.”
For the next hour or so, I sling bottles of liquor, pouring shots and mixing drinks. I throw empty beer bottles away, refill glasses and cart off dirty ones back to the kitchen. I barely have time to breathe, so of course when I walk back behind the bar and see Derrick perched on a stool in the middle of the bar, I can’t help but wonder if he’s been here long and I just haven’t noticed him.
My eyes light up with a smile as I walk over to him. “How long have you been here?” I ask finally stepping in front of him.
“Not long, I had to make a pit stop on my way over,” he says smiling.
“Do you want a drink or something?” I ask.
“Are you still serving any of those famous cheeseburgers?”
“Nope, the kitchen closes at nine. After that it’s all about good beer, liquor, music, and conversation.”
“All right, I’ll take a Jameson neat and the conversation,” he says waggling his eyebrows.
Rolling my eyes at his lame excuse to talk to me I reply, “The Jameson you can have, but the conversation will have to wait. Grunge has decided to make an unexpected visit tonight,” I say with apologetic eyes waving my hand around the crowded bar.
“Who’s Grunge?” he asks.
“A band.”
“Ahh…got it,” he replies.
Pouring up his Jameson, I set it in front of him saying, “I’ll be back in a few,” as people down at the other end of the bar start yelling drink orders at me.
Finally, Grunge shows up around eleven pulling most of the people from the bar onto the makeshift dance floor. Luckily, Frankie and I work so attentively together that there isn’t much re-stocking to do. When the beer or liquor started running low, one of us would man the bar while the other went and retrieved the items, taking turns switching off.
I haven’t had much time to talk to Derrick since he’s shown up but I’ve felt his eyes on me the whole time. We have snuck a few glances at each other and shared small smiles all night.
I’ve watched women paw at him trying to get his attention, but his eyes have stayed glued to me as he shook off their wandering hands. One woman actually tried to kiss his neck. I actually laughed out loud at that one. When he leaned into the bar, she fell over the back of his barstool, clutching his shoulders to keep from losing her balance.
Hearing Grunge announce their last song of the set is my cue that it’s almost closing time. Carrying a rack full of dirty glasses, I pass by Frankie telling him, “I’m going to get these washed up real quick.”
Nodding in Derrick’s direction, I glance over my shoulder as he says, “Your boy over there can’t seem to keep his eyes off you.”
Shrugging my shoulders, the glasses rattle from the gesture as I glance back at him and say with a smile, “He’s not mine.”
Patting my shoulder he says, “You sure about that?”
Shaking my head, I head off to the kitchen leaving Frankie with his assumptions. With my hands in warm water filled with suds, I lean over the kitchen sink washing the dirty glasses from tonight. What Frankie said keeps running through my mind. Derrick and I haven’t talked about being in a relationship. We have barely started getting to know each other. There’s still so much I don’t know about him. Damn Frankie for putting these thoughts in my head. Pulling the plug from the drain, I clean up around the sink, wringing out the rag and draping it over the faucet. Knowing the bar’s finally closed; I dry my hands and walk back out to the bar to see that Grunge hasn’t torn down their set yet.
I stopped Jax, the lead singer for Grunge, from breaking down their set when Blake had gone back to the kitchen. I told him that I’d match what he made tonight from here at Frankie’s if he would stay and play a song for me. I knew with an offer like that he couldn’t refuse.
I asked him if he knew Colbie Caillat’s “Falling for You.” Jax said he did, so I asked him if he’d play it. I kept watching for Blake to return from the kitchen as she pushed through the double doors, I nodded to Jax indicating for him to start strumming the beginning chords.
Her look of confusion was just what I was going for. Walking up to her with her eyes still fixed on the band, I gently grab her hand. Gasping, she looks at me wide eyed. Lifting her hand to my mouth, I softly brush my lips against the backs of her knuckles. Leaning into her with my mouth next to her ear, I whisper, “Dance with me.”
Pulling back, I admire those big beautiful green eyes that are staring back at me searching my face. “Okay,” she whispers through a smile.
Leading her out onto the dance floor, in front of the stage, I wrap my hands around her waist, resting them at the base of her lower back. With her arms wrapped around my neck, I pull her in to me. Cautiously, she rests her head on my chest while we sway back and forth to the music. Tilting my head down, I whisper some of the words to her.
Lifting her head off my chest, she looks up at me with a widening smile. Her body bounces as she silently laughs at me. “What’s so funny?”
“You like a chick song,” she says laughing harder now.
Smiling and laughing with her I say, “Yeah I do. But I like the way Jax is singing it. I like the little edge and soul he’s put behind it.”
“Me too. Thank you for this. It was very sweet,” she admits.
Her smile fades when she scans over the now empty bar. Trash cans overflow with empty beer bottles and plastic cups. Puddles of spilled drinks scatter along the floor. Removing one of my arms from around Blake’s back, I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone.
I begin searching for the DoubleTree hotel when she asks, “What are you doing?”
“Looking for a hotel,” I say, turning my attention to her, “Unless you want me to stay with you?” God, I hope she wants me to stay. Last Saturday, when she fell asleep in my arms, it was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.
Averting her eyes to the floor, the bar, Dean, she looks anywhere else but at me. I know she’s thinking about it, I’ve seen her do this before when she’s unsure. Finally, her eyes drift back up to mine when she whispers, “You can stay.”
Putting my phone back in my pocket as Grunge strums the final chords; both of my hands cup Blake’s face. Gazing down at her, she searches my face with wide eyes, her breath quickens with the rise and fall of her chest. Achingly slowly, I lean into her brushing my lips against her cheek. Moving my lips closer to her ear I whisper, “Thank you for the dance.”
Pulling back, I see her lips tug into a grin. Stepping back and away from me, with a flushed face and wide smile she says, “You go and sit while I help get this place cleaned up.”
Shrugging my shoulders I say, “I could help too, you know.”
Raising an eyebrow at me, grinning, she says, “Okay.”
She walks behind the bar, returning to me with a black industrial sized plastic trash bag. Peeling the edge apart, she flings it open. Handing me the edges she says, “Here, hold this and I’ll start throwing everything away.”
Following Blake around the bar, she tosses in plastic cups and beer bottles, some full and some empty. Once the bag’s filled, I tie up the ends and set it by the front door as she walks to the back. She returns with a towel, mop and bucket. Tossing me the towel, I catch it in the air as she asks, “Could you wipe up the bar while I get the floors done real quick?”
“Are we almost finished?” I ask, wiping do
wn the bar.
“Yeah, Dean’s already done the bathrooms, and he's taking out the trash right now.”
“I was going to ask who was stuck with the bathrooms because I don’t even want to think about how bad those things are,” I say with a chuckle.
Laughing she replies, “Dean and I have an understanding; I take care of the front of the bar if he handles the bathrooms and the trash. He thinks he’s getting off easy, but I think it’s the other way around. You couldn’t pay me enough to clean those bathrooms, especially on a Friday or Saturday night.”
Thirty minutes later, at almost three in the morning, the bar’s finally clean as Blake walks the mop and bucket to the back room. A smile creeps on my face as I recall staring at her ass when she would bend over to mop certain spots she couldn’t reach. Tossing my towel on the bar, she walks back out with Dean by her side. Looking over at me smiling she asks, “You ready to go?”
“Yep,” I say as I’m walking over to them.
Dean unlocks the door to the apartment. Stepping inside, Blake and I follow behind him. Reaching for the light switch on the wall and flipping on the light, Dean moves out from in front of Blake. Wide eyed, her hands swing up covering her mouth when she gasps. Teary eyed, she looks between Dean and I, dropping her hands she stammers saying, “Who…when…how?”
Shrugging my shoulders I say, “I told you I was late because I had to make a pit stop on my way over.”
Walking over to the purple and white orchids that are now a centerpiece on their dining table, she gently fingers the soft, velvety petals. Mystified she says, “These are beautiful.” Looking between me and Dean, she asks dubiously, “How did you get these in here?”
Nodding in Dean’s direction I say, “When I showed up, I saw him at the door checking IDs. I told him what I had for you and he gave me his key so I could bring them up.”
Smiling and shaking her head she says, “Thank you, Derrick.”
Dean claps me on the shoulder. Walking away, he waves at us and says, “I’m beat and calling it a night. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
My eyes are fixed on Blake as I walk over to her. Waving back at him she says, “Goodnight.”
Stopping in front of her, I reach over and pull a purple orchid out of its vase handing it to her. Taking it from me, she looks at it for a while and says, “No one’s ever bought me flowers before. I don’t even know what to say.” Grinning, she steps closer to me wrapping her arms around my neck. Pulling me down to her, I want to crash my mouth to hers, but I let her take control of the situation—I let her lead me.
Cupping my jaw in her hand, slowly she pulls my mouth to hers. Gently, her soft, full, delicate lips move against mine. Not wanting to rush, I let her take her time. Softly, the tip of her tongue brushes against my lips coaxing my mouth open to hers. Our tongues, twist, sweep and dance against each other’s. My hands skim up her back reaching her neck. Not able to contain myself any longer, I tilt her head in my hands deepening the kiss, delving my tongue into her mouth. When a slight moan escapes her, I lose all sense of control. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lift her up off the floor. Still locked in our embrace I take quick steps carrying her into her room. Fumbling for the doorknob, I twist it and push the door open with my foot. Kicking it closed behind me; within three long strides, I’m at the side of her bed.
Breaking the kiss, I pull back and gaze into a set of gorgeous emerald green hooded eyes, I say, “Blake, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Bashfully she looks away from me. Placing my finger under her chin and turning her head, she has to look at me. “Please don’t look away from me when I compliment you.” My hands glide up her back as my fingers thread through her hair at the nape of her neck. Leaning in, I softly press feather light kisses to each of her eyes whispering, “I love the fire I see in your eyes.” Kissing my way down the bridge of her nose to her cheekbones I murmur, “I love how when you blush, these turn a soft shade of pink.” Slowly, I kiss my way across her cheek to her ear and whisper, “And I love when I whisper to you here, your whole body covers in goose bumps.” To prove a point, I trace my tongue along the outer shell of her ear and immediately feel the goose bumps spread across her skin under my hands.
A shudder passes through her body while I continue my torturous assault of kissing my way behind her ear and down the curve of her neck. Stopping at the collar of her shirt, I slowly pull back and away from her. Looking down upon her face, I watch as her eyes flutter open. I can’t go any further with her unless we discuss where this is going. I need her to be on the same page as me.
Cupping her face in my hands, I tilt her head back to look at me while the pads of my thumbs gently caress her cheekbones. Before I can say anything, she asks in a voice filled with want, “Why did you stop?”
“Because I want us on the same page before I can go any further with you. I like you, Blake, a lot. You’re sweet, feisty and smart. I like being around you and I am so damn attracted to you. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I want to give whatever this is,” I say pointing between the both of us, “a chance. I want to see where it can go because I think we could be good together.”
“But we don’t really know each other, Derrick. I mean, you’ve been around for the past few weeks, but we’ve only started to get to know each other this past week,” she says.
“I know, but even when people date they’re always learning new things about each other, don’t you agree?” I ask.
“Yeah, but…”
“But what, Blake? I know you have to feel something for me. I know in some way this is mutual, right?” I ask cautiously.
“Yes, yes, it’s mutual, but, I’m scared,” she whispers.
“What are you scared of?” I ask concerned.
Tears well up in her eyes as she says, “I’m scared that I’m going to mess this up. I’ve never done this before, I’ve never wanted to do this before—until you came along.”
“Will you try, for me? Will you give us a chance? I promise you that we’ll both make mistakes, but as long as we’re honest with each other, we can work through it. As long as we don’t hide things from one another, this can work.” A tear breaks free from the barrier that was holding it at bay; taking the pad of my thumb, I brush it away from her face. Leaning down my mouth closing in on hers I ask, “What do say, Blake? Do you think we’re worth a shot?” My lips lightly brush against hers as she nods her head. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she tries to close her mouth around mine. Holding her still, I lift my eyes to hers and say, “I need to hear you say it, Blake.”
“Yes, we’re worth a shot, Derrick,” she whispers as more tears spill over onto her cheeks.
With those five words, I come undone and crash my mouth down on hers. I kiss her as if my last breath depended on it. Guiding her back against the bed and lying down, I roll us on our sides. Pulling her body flush against mine, a groan escapes me when she throws her leg over my hip. Roughly, I grab her hip pulling her still covered sex against the bulge in my pants.
Pulling back from our passionate kissing, her eyes go wide at the contact. Removing her leg from over my hip, I can see the uneasiness in her eyes. Not willing to release her from my hold I ask, “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Turning her eyes away from me she whispers, “You said we need to be honest, right?”
“Yeah, why?” I ask.
Clearing her throat, she tilts her head back to avoid looking at me. “I’m a virgin, Derrick,” she barely whispers.
No fucking way. She did not just say she’s a virgin. I know she barely whispered it, but I know that’s what she said. What the fuck am I doing? Her voice breaks me from my internal rambling as she says pulling out of my grasp and sitting up, “Can you say something, please?” When I don’t answer, because honestly I don’t know what the fuck to say. Adding under her breath she says, “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Rolling onto my back, I rub my palms up and down my face as I take a deep brea
th. Sitting up, I watch as Blake rummages through her dresser. Pulling out some pajamas, she walks to the door and quietly pulls it open. “I’m going to get dressed for bed.”
When she walks back into the room, I’m still sitting on the bed. I’d been thinking about what to say when she came back in the room. “Blake, come here please.” Tossing her dirty clothes into a basket, she walks over to the bed and sits next to me. Lifting her off the bed and onto my lap, I say to her, “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything. Truth is, I don’t really know what to say.”
Looking at me she asks, “Do you not want to be with me anymore, because of what I told you?”
My eyes widen with shock as I say, “What? No, no, that’s not it. Actually, it makes me want you more, but only when you’re ready.”
Yawning she smiles at me and says, “Okay. Can we just go to bed? I’m really tired.”
“Sure.”
She gets up off my lap as I stand and crawls on the side of the bed closest to the window. Throwing back the covers, she lies down pulling them up and tucking them under her chin. Lifting the hem of my shirt to pull it off, I stop myself and ask, “Do you mind if I take my shirt off?”
Shaking her head, a small smile creeps up on her face and she says, “No.”
Pulling my shirt up and over my head, I toss it on the floor. Kicking off my shoes, I crawl under the covers next to Blake. Rolling on my side, we lie there facing each other. Taking my right hand, I pull it out from under the blankets and brush a lock of hair away from her eyes. Scooting closer, our knees touch as I slowly lean into her. The moonlight shining through the window casts a soft glow on Blake’s silhouette, and adds a sparkle to her eyes. Gazing back at me, it’s like she can see the real me. It makes me want to share more of myself with her.
Softly, stroking my thumb back and forth along her cheekbone, I quietly say, “My mother was great when I was a kid. Then life became too much for her. At first, she would only have a couple of drinks a day, but progressively it got worse. By the time I was seven, she had turned into a raging alcoholic.” A slow smile spreads across my face as think back to that bike she bought me when I turned five. “I remember my fifth birthday. My mother said to me, ‘Derrick, honey, you’re the light of my life. I love you so much, and although I couldn't give you a proper birthday party, I did get you a present I know you’ll love.’ I could see the heartfelt sentiment in her eyes. At that moment, my mom had returned and I thought she really loved me.” A small chuckle escapes me as I look over to Blake. The look in her eyes does not convey pity, but understanding.
Luck of Love Page 13
