Bittersweet Melody

by Belinda Boring

  “Sure.” I smiled, finally turning away from the stage so I could watch the guy behind the bar approach. We’d chatted earlier, and he was a fellow student at BCU, working nights to help cover his tuition. Matthew was an engineering major, and he’d chuckled when I told him if that ever bored him, he had a career in bartending.

  He’d quipped back that if it meant a lifetime of talking to pretty girls, then he’d march into admissions and quit school immediately. Whether it was the cranberry and vodka making my body buzz already, or the flirtatious wink, this guy was an absolute charmer. Dressed in black jeans and a tight, black T-shirt, he knew the affect he had on the opposite sex. Each time he brushed his fingers through his thick brown hair, pushing it back from his eyes, nearby women sighed, their ovaries kicking into overdrive. He was definitely a crowd-pleaser, based on how most of the chairs at the bar were filled with females.

  “Same as before, girls?” he grinned, wiping the counter in front of us with a clean white towel. “Or could I tempt you with something a little more adventurous?” His biceps flexed and Rebecca softly moaned beside me.

  “How adventurous are we talking?” I narrowed my gaze on him. He’d piqued my curiosity.

  “Enough that you will forever think of me as a genius, but not enough to where you wake up tomorrow lying on your bathroom floor while a mysterious stranger snores from your bed. Game?” He set two cups before us, a bottle of alcohol already in his hands like he knew we wouldn’t refuse him.

  “I don’t know . . . ” I drawled, somewhat hesitant. It would do me no good to be drunk when Cooper finished—although, a slightly stronger buzz could take the edge off my nerves. I hadn’t met anyone from the band yet, and nothing screamed bad impression than opening your mouth to say hello and vomiting on their shoes.

  “Count me in!” Rebecca volunteered. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard someone other than Caylee snoring.” When Matthew’s eyebrows rose, she quickly added, “From her own room, perv. Take your mind out of the gutter.”

  “Sweetheart, you put it there with that comment. What was I meant to think?” Shot by shot, Matthew began mixing her drink.

  “What exactly is in it?” I asked, pointing to Rebecca’s glass.

  “A little bit of this and that.” Dropping a straw into his concoction, he gently slid it to Rebecca. “Whenever you’re ready to call me a genius, I’ll be here . . . waiting.”

  The sound Rebecca made as she took a tentative sip was practically blush worthy. “That. Is. Orgasmic. What’s it called?”

  When he smiled, I noticed the faint dimple just above the corner of his mouth. “Matthew’s Surprise.”

  “You have to try this, Caylee. Seriously, it’ll ruin you for anything you ever drink again.” Rolling her eyes at my hesitation, she leaned toward Matthew like they were joint conspirators. “Make her one. She’ll thank us after.” And with one more pointed look, she mouthed for me to trust her.

  I swiveled around, resting my elbows on the counter as I returned my focus to Cooper. From the sounds of it, the band was down to their last song before they were done. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Damn, I wanted this new friendship to work.

  “Here you go, pretty lady,” Matthew said from behind. “And because you’re my favorite customers tonight, these are on the house.” He waited long enough for me to take that first mouthful and exclaim how incredible it was, before moving on to help other patrons. He hadn’t been lying when he said it was adventurous—the fruity concoction was stronger than I was used to, but it was every bit as delicious as he’d promised. If I started drinking these, I’d definitely need to pace myself.

  Rebecca sat quietly, staring at me with an I-told-you-so expression. “Fine, I’ll say it. You were right. This is orgasmic.”

  “You’re welcome. Now hurry up and drink your drink so you’re relaxed enough to hook up with Cooper.”

  I ignored her reference to hooking up. “I’m relaxed,” I retorted, taking a bigger mouthful of alcohol.

  She snorted loudly. “Of course you are. You always sit rigid in a seat, even though you’re the second hottest chick in the room.”

  “You being the first?”

  “Naturally.” Watching Rebecca toss her long brown curls over her shoulder, I admired her confidence. I didn’t know where she got it from, but if there was a way for her to bottle it, I’d buy each and every single one.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t believe I was pretty or that I had low self-esteem. I just didn’t exude it like her. Owen had loved my self-assurance. He’d told me how sexy it was.

  But he was gone.

  Melancholy thoughts swept over me. Even after all this time, they popped up when I least expected them to. Chasing them away, I tipped back my glass and downed the entire thing, the liquid pooling in my middle, heating it instantly. “Better?” I asked, wearing a goofy grin.

  “It’s a start,” she laughed, dragging me to my feet. “Did Cooper say where he was going to meet you after the show?” The crowd was cheering, everyone around us clapping and wolf-whistling as the guys gave their thanks.

  “Not really. Just the time and address.” There was already a surge of females pressing toward the stage as, one by one, the band members began putting away their instruments. Cooper had his guitar still in his hand, and for a second, I imagined him wielding it like a shield, protecting himself from the sexual advances of the masses. The thought, mixed with the drink, reduced me to giggles. The mighty lead singer defending his honor and slaying the mighty dragon . . . or dragons in this case.

  “Then let’s try to get closer. I’m pretty sure he knows you’re here.”

  I was, too. There were a few instances throughout the performance where our eyes had met over the packed room. “I’m sure he’ll come find us when he’s ready.”

  Sure enough, five minutes later, he was pushing his way through to where we were, his hair damp from exertion. “I’ve got to take care of something, but the bar reserves us a booth over by the back.” To prove his point, he gestured to the spot where one of his band mates was waving. “Grab a drink and wait for me there. We’ll hang out.” Then he was gone, leaving behind the soft mixture of sweat and cologne in his wake. The smell alone was intoxicating.

  I definitely needed to switch to water. I was too much of a lightweight. “Okay!” I called out, but he was already halfway back to the stage, stopping occasionally to untangle himself from grabby hands. “I guess we’re heading in that direction.”

  “Lead the way then,” Rebecca answered, careful not to leave her fresh drink behind.

  Now that the music had stopped, the bar was filled with excited chatter as people returned to talking and enjoying the end to their work week. Groups surrounded the four pool tables, joking between themselves, and the crack of balls striking blended with the soft tunes from the jukebox. Ruby’s was definitely the establishment to be at on a Saturday night. I wouldn’t be surprised if I became a regular here.

  “Caylee!” My name rang out over the din. The lead guitarist stood to the side of the booth, waving for us to hurry. Finally reaching him, I knew in an instant that not only was this guy a player, but that Rebecca was in deep trouble. He might have called out for me, but she was all he could look at. “Cooper asked me to watch out for you. My name’s Marty, and you are?” His gaze skimmed loosely over me before lingering over Rebecca’s face and body.

  Yeah, this one was dangerous, and it wasn’t from the colorful tattoos that ran from his wrists to underneath the sleeves of his faded grey shirt.

  My roommate had a weakness for guys who shared her geeky addictions, but it paled in comparison to her soft spot for bad boys. Marty’s hair was dark, shaved close to his head, his dark eyes piercing. I could all but hear her inner thoughts . . . her inner sighs and swoon.

  “This is Rebecca,” I answered when she failed to reply. “We share a house together.”

  “Yes, sorry. I’m Rebecca,” she blushed, realizing that she’d totally just spaced o
ut. While I didn’t like seeing my friend uncomfortable, it was definitely interesting seeing her tongue-tied. Marty just might be her kryptonite.

  “Pleased to meet you.” He kissed the back of her hand and Rebecca almost vibrated from the attention. “You, too, Caylee. Cooper’s told me a little about how you two know each other.” When he held my gaze for the briefest of seconds, I recognized the worry, but with the next blink, it was gone. He was back to being Mr. Casanova. “Come sit with us. Cooper’s a little tied up right now with after-show business, but he shouldn’t be long.”

  As if by magic, a waitress appeared with a tray of drinks, offloading them onto the table. “Wow, that’s some great service,” I murmured, eyeing all the different shots. I was clearly out of my league if this was how they drank.

  “They take good care of us here at Ruby’s. The owner loves us. Whenever we play here, he makes bank. He pretty much told us we could drink whatever we want . . . we’re a good investment.” Saluting us with one of the shot glasses in the air, Marty added, “Bottom’s up, and when I say that, I don’t mean the drink.” He winked at Rebecca—whose face reddened again—before tossing it back in one go. “Damn, that hit the spot.” Finding her confidence, Rebecca picked up a similar shot and downed it. “Oooh, do I sense a challenge?”

  Tuning out their flirting, I glanced about, trying to spot Cooper. One by one, the other two band members slid into the booth, introducing themselves. Troy Slater was the group’s absolutely gorgeous bass guitarist. There were no other words to describe the tall, muscular blond. Unlike others I’d met, who knew they were attractive and wore their arrogance like a neon sign, Troy was more reserved than I’d assumed. While he knew there were girls hovering about, casting furtive glances his way, he didn’t play into it. Resting his head against the back of the cushioned seat, he closed his eyes, softly breathing.

  Aidan Jefferies was the kind of guy you instantly liked, even after exchanging a few sentences. While he was also fortunate in the looks department, it was his messy ginger hair that drew my attention—that and his deep, contagious laugh. It was the most incredible sound—leaving me wondering what Troy had whispered in Aidan’s ear.

  “So what did you think of tonight’s set, Caylee?” Aidan asked, slowly sipping from his tumbler, tapping his finger against the side to some silent rhythm. I was pretty sure it was an occupational hazard from being the drummer—he probably heard beats everywhere.

  I beamed. “You guys were amazing. I’ve only ever seen Damaged Souls play a few times, but you’re all pretty impressive.”

  “Did you hear that, Troy? She said we were impressive!” Marty teased, reaching for his third shot.

  “Put it in your pants, bro,” came Troy’s tired reply. “We all know you have an elevated sense of grandeur.”

  “Haters gonna hate,” Marty retorted.

  “If the next words out of your mouth is another Taylor Swift line, I’m going to embarrass you in front of your lady friend and beat the shit out of you.” Despite the threat, there was a tinge of humor to his comment, paired with a friendly grin.

  “Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna sit here, chill . . . ” I didn’t have to know Marty long to realize he always got the last word. “And shake it off.” He even wiggled on the spot, pretending to dance.

  I couldn’t help it. Even I groaned loudly at how cheesy it was, joining Troy and Aidan, who added their own insults. All but Rebecca. Judging from the look on her face, she was convinced Marty walked on water.

  Troy winced. “Dude, Taylor called. She wants her vagina back.”

  “Cheap shot, asshole,” Marty fired before laughing. “A good one, but a low blow all the same.” He blew his friend a mocking kiss and everyone around the table fell back into comfortable silence. The crowd had thinned somewhat, leaving only the true die-hards who didn’t care about the lateness of the hour behind.

  “Do you think Cooper will be much longer?” I asked, still not seeing him. Whatever business he had, it was taking forever—churning up a wave of impatience.

  Aidan went to answer, but stopped abruptly when Troy elbowed him hard in the side. “What the . . .” he croaked, not sure why his friend had jabbed him.

  “He’ll be here soon. Sometimes it just takes a little longer,” Marty added, shooting a warning look at Aidan.

  Troy chuckled. “It happens to the best of us.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Aidan quipped.

  I had no idea what they meant, sensing there was some underlying message that I wasn’t quite getting.

  Must be an inside joke, I thought, taking in a deep breath as I shifted on my seat. One thing I knew was all this waiting was making me thirsty, the tipsy feeling from before wearing off. “I’m going to go grab something from the bar, then.”

  That caught Marty’s attention. “Help yourself to whatever’s here, Caylee. If you don’t see what you like, we can have Vanessa get it for you.” Vanessa must have been the waitress who kept them in a steady stream of alcohol.

  “Actually, I think what I want is water,” I admitted, already sliding across the booth’s chair to stand up. “Be back in a moment.”

  “Wait up!” Rebecca called out. “I’ll come with.”

  “Hurry back, sweetheart.” Placing his hand over his heart, Marty mimed how much he would miss her. The guy was definitely an epic cheese ball.

  The path to the bar was a lot easier to navigate now than earlier. Some country tune played over the loudspeakers, and it was hard not to sway back and forth while we waited for Matthew to take our order. “So, what do you think?”

  “Huh?” I replied, too busy fidgeting with my shirt that I missed Rebecca’s question. As much as I loved how this shirt looked in the store, the way it kept riding up bothered me. Later this week, the sparkly top would find its new home in Rebecca’s room. She’d commented about how much she liked it when I’d come into her room earlier—she could have it with my blessing.

  “Marty. What do you think?”

  Pausing long enough to ask for a bottle of water, I took a good look at her. She was interested—really interested—in Cooper’s friend. There was no hiding it. Her eyes were wide and filled with the excitement of a new opportunity to find love.

  Or maybe that was just lust. Sometimes it was hard to remember not everyone was looking for something different. Sometimes it was purely physical, not requiring a deeper commitment.

  I’d never understood one-night stands, but then again, I’d never had the chance to even entertain the idea. It had only ever been Owen.

  “I think you’ve already made your mind up,” I chuckled, knowing I was right based on her blush. She was already thinking about what it would be like to have some alone time with Marty. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination that he felt the same way—unable to focus on anyone but her. “Be careful. That’s all I’m going to say. That, and use protection.”

  Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “You’re both consenting adults, and he’s obviously into you. Have fun. Just remember to protect your heart, okay?”

  Rebecca threw her arms around me. “You are such an amazing friend. Have I told you that? I promise to be careful. I’m not expecting anything serious from him. Just a little innocent fun.” She must’ve had a thought because she smiled even bigger. “I bet he’s amazing in bed.”

  “Trust me, something tells me there’s nothing innocent about that man,” I chuckled, paying for my drink and pocketing the change.

  “Oh, I sure as hell hope not!”

  Apparently, there was a naughtier side to my roommate than I was aware of. “Then go forth and do your thing. I’ll wear ear plugs.”

  “Who knows? When Cooper finally shows up . . .”

  I raised my hand to stop her. “That’s definitely not going to happen.”

  “Maybe you should go find him, see if you can speed him up. It would be a shame if your time was cut short because of paperwork or somethi
ng.”

  She made a good point. “Okay, meet you back at the table.”

  Parting ways, I headed toward the exit I’d last seen Cooper go through. There was a sign on it that said Staff Only, but that didn’t worry me. No one was guarding the door.

  I pushed through, the noise from the main bar muted as it banged closed. The hall was lined with shelves filled with inventory, but there was a room at the back that I assumed was the office. If there was ever a place to do paperwork, it was there.

  Humming softly to myself, I gingerly made my way toward it, the door closed and a light shining underneath the crack.

  “I don’t think you want to go in there.” Matthew appeared where I’d just been, two bottles of tequila in his hand. “I’m pretty sure they don’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. I’m not going to interrupt. Cooper invited me here,” I added, unsure why I was suddenly nervous.

  “But—”

  I didn’t give him a chance to finish, offering him a quick smile before I knocked on the door. The brass, sticky office sign was peeling away from the wood surface, and I resisted the urge to smooth it over. When I didn’t hear a response, I turned the knob and pushed.

  Cooper was definitely busy, but it wasn’t with paperwork. In fact, I was pretty sure business was the last thing on his mind as I caught him with his jeans down by his ankles, his hands gripping the female he had bent over the desk by the hips. He was driving into her with such force that all I could hear was the slapping of their bodies colliding, her moans of enjoyment the only other noise in the room.

  I should’ve turned around.

  I should’ve excused myself and left.

  This was a very private moment between two people, and it made me feel somewhat dirty to stand there like a voyeur.

  But something kept my feet cemented to the ground, unable to move. All I could do was watch—witness the complete focus covering Cooper’s face as he tilted his head back, eyes closed as he increased his pace, slamming into the girl with a heavier thud. This was what Cooper Hensley looked like having sex—good sex, judging by the way the woman began thrashing back and forth. His name fell from her lips, over and over, her back arching as she begged for him to give it to her harder and faster.