Eight Days in the Sun

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Eight Days in the Sun Page 9

by MK Schiller


  Chapter 8

  Kiran

  Sidney pounces on me when we arrive at the crowded karaoke bar. She’s elevated from happy to giddy, courtesy of a few starter rounds. I introduce Mason to the faces I remember. Sidney is quick to jump in when I hesitate.

  “I’ll fetch us drinks,” Mason says.

  I shiver as the warmth of his hand leaves the small of my back. After some awkward small talk and a brief explanation of what I’ve been doing for the past three years, I start enjoying myself. At first, Mason being here made me nervous, what with all my different worlds colliding. I shouldn’t have worried. He’s got an amicable personality and makes friends easily. Of course, all the girls salivate over him.

  I am one of them.

  Yeah, I’m definitely head over boots attracted to Mason Cutler, but beneath all the flutters in my tummy, there’s a sense of comfort. Even here, in this bar surrounded by people I haven’t hung with in years, it’s easier to digest with him by my side. The few people who look away when they see my scar barely register on the scale of self-consciousness I’m usually lugging on my back.

  He orders us Mojitos because they have fresh mint leaves at the bar. The most important ingredient according to Mason.

  “There’s Tahl,” Sidney says, jumping up from her chair and sprinting to the door.

  Funny how tastes change. Back in high school, guys with piercings and emo dispositions, who were versed in the proper techniques of applying guy-liner, were my catnip. Now, not so much. Tahl looks the same except for the huge gauges in his ears and the vine tattoo crawling up his neck.

  Mason leans over my shoulder. “Is that the Tahl of the lip-ring debacle?”

  “The very one.”

  After he exchanges hugs with Sidney, Tahl makes a beeline for our table.

  “Hey babe, how are you?”

  I give him a hug. “Good. Missed you.”

  “Me too, babe. Me too. I wasn’t even going to come tonight, but Sid said you’d be here, and I had to see you.”

  As I pull away, his lip ring gets snarled in my hair. “Wait,” he says.

  Instinctively, I run my tongue over my teeth to make sure they are all intact. We both crack up, a gut-busting laugh. He manages to dislodge us without snatching any of my hair out.

  “That lip ring gave me nightmares. I can’t believe you still have it.”

  “The ladies love it.” He wiggles his brows, the left one pierced. “But not as much as this.” He sticks out his tongue. There’s a metal stud in the center.

  “That had to be painful.”

  “Sometimes a little pain makes the pleasure last longer. Know what I mean?”

  I’ll take questions I’d rather not answer for six hundred, Alex. “Sure.”

  “Can’t wait to catch up with you.” He grins and drags a hand through his mop of dark hair. “I’ll even remove my lip ring.”

  “Why do you need to remove your lip ring for us to catch up?”

  “Just making an offer.” “He steps back and takes a look at me. He lets out some kind of woo sound. “You look amazing, babe. That is some dress.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I love the eyelets on it,” Sidney chimes in.

  “What are eyelets?” Tahl asks.

  Before I can respond, a strong arm hooks my waist. Mason’s other hand shoots out between Tahl and me. “I’m Mason Cutler. Nice to meet you.”

  Tahl winces from Mason’s grip. “Sorry, man, I didn’t know.”

  Mason smiles, his grin too wide, edging toward predatory. Not the type of smile fitting a casual handshake. “Well now you do.”

  Tahl gives us a weak smile, or maybe that’s pain on his face. “All caught up.”

  What did I just witness?

  Whatever Tahl now knows, I wish I did too. Did Mason just imply we were together? Or am I reading too much into it? Maybe he realized how creepy the conversation was getting and just wanted to rescue me.

  I tell myself to shut up before I analyze the exchange backward and forward and sideways. Either I’ve drunk too much or not enough. I let it go as a new round appears. Everyone starts talking and laughing, rehashing crazy stories.

  “Everyone has to sing,” Sid announces, plopping down a huge three-ring binder in front of me.

  “Um…what?”

  “It’s a rule.”

  “Whose rule?” I ask.

  She smiles the old Sidney smile, complete with matching dimples. “My rule. See, I promised I would sing.”

  “What does that have to do with anyone else singing, Sid?”

  She holds up her beer. “The liquid courage helps, but I’ll only have enough confidence to pull this off if everyone else does too. I suck at singing but a promise is a promise.”

  “I didn’t promise.”

  “But you’ll do it to support me.” She pouts. Toddlers and puppy dogs would have a hard time competing with Sidney’s pout. But I’m on to her.

  “You think we’ll suck so it’ll make you look better.”

  She giggles. “Pretty much.” Then she turns to Mason. “This girl and I have known each other since kindergarten. The first day of school we wore the same shirt. Is it any wonder we became besties?”

  “What shirt?” Mason asks.

  “It had a big-ass white horse on the front with a glittery pink horn and the caption, all horses should be unicorns.”

  Mason winces. “I can see it.”

  “Say what you will, but we bonded over unicorns and later, Harry Potter. Although, Kiran was always off about who the hero was.”

  “Oh yeah? How so?”

  They are talking about me like I’m not present. I give Sidney a warning look. She ignores me.

  She jabs her thumb in my direction. “She had a crush on Draco Malfoy, this one.”

  “You're kidding,” Mason says.

  “Look, I always thought he got a raw deal. I mean, his dad was an asshole.”

  Mason gives me an amused smile. “Were you into bad boys or just dudes with daddy issues?”

  “Neither. I always root for the underdog. There was more than one in those stories when you think about it.”

  He knocks his glass against mine. “True.”

  When Mason goes up with Tahl to get another round, Sidney seizes the moment. “What’s your deal, Kiran?”

  “You can’t make me sing, that’s what.”

  “Not that. We’ll put that on hold for now.” She jerks her head toward the bar. “I mean, what’s the deal with you and that smoldering shot of hotness over there?”

  “Smoldering shot of hotness?”

  “It’s a technical term.” She puts a hand on my shoulder like she always did when she wanted me to pay close attention. “Sweetie, he’s a cup of hot toddy and a cool, smooth glass of Southern Comfort rolled into one.”

  “Sorry to disappoint. There isn’t a story.”

  “He’s into you.”

  “We just met,” I say, trying not to admit just how drunk off Mason Cutler I really am.

  “I think he’s great.”

  “He’s more than great. The trouble with Mason isn’t falling for him. That’s easy. It’s the getting back up after part that worries me.”

  “Some falls are worth it. We all need a little trouble in our lives. We’re better off for it.”

  “So you’re not going out?” Jordan Adler chimes in.

  “No.”

  “Cool. I can ask him out.”

  In my head, I jump on the table and make it clear I claim him like a freaking lioness. In reality, I’m silent.

  What can I even say? Not that she asked me for permission. The reality is I have no hold on Mason. I can’t prevent someone else from asking him out. Things are so much simpler in the animal kingdom, but this isn’t National Geographic. He’s free to roam wherever.

  “Sure.” I manage to mutter the simple word through gritted teeth.

  Sidney gives J
ordan a dirty look and opens her mouth to let her have it. This girl always had my back. Nothing has changed. I put my hand on her shoulder and shake my head.

  The boys come back with drinks. Mason switched to beer but got another Mojito for me.

  “You had the strawberry margarita, right?” he asks Jordan, setting down the glass.

  “Oh yes, thank you.” She bats her eyelashes so hard she might just fly away. Wishful thinking.

  “Which song are you doing?” Tahl asks.

  “I’m not,” I say. “What about you?”

  He takes the huge book from me. “Let me see. Maybe something by The Cure.”

  “Are you singing, Mason?” Jordan asks.

  He shrugs. “I’m not much of a singer either. Unless you count the shower or the car. Then I’m Grammy good.”

  She laughs, her lashes fluttering in sync. “I’m sure you’re a rock star everywhere.” Everyone has that one mean girl in their group. That frenemy who always puts you down while acting like your best friend. Jordan Adler is mine. She hasn’t changed a bit. It’s exciting to see everyone, but she is one person I could do without. She snaps her fingers. “We can do a duet. It won’t be so bad, Mase.”

  Mase? His name is Mason. Don’t come up with any special nicknames. It’s not cute. I struggle not to roll my eyes.

  “Duets aren’t really my thing.”

  “We can just pick a song and sing it together then.” This girl is relentless.

  “That’s a good idea,” Mason says.

  Jordan’s face lights up like the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree. I lower my head and find a very interesting spot on the table. “How about it, Kiran? Want to try that?”

  What? He wants to sing with me?

  Before I say anything, they call Sidney’s name. She hops to the stage. We all clap and holler in support. “This is for my bestie, Kiran. It’s good to have you back, sister.”

  I doubt anyone knows why she dedicated this song to me. I burst out laughing because only Sidney could put it all in twenty/twenty perspective as she belts out Taylor Swift’s “I Knew You Were Trouble.”

  She does a damn good job too. When she finishes, I give her a standing ovation and blow her a kiss. We haven’t been in touch in three years, but the ties that bound us are not broken. They aren’t even torn in the slightest.

  I barely get a chance to compliment her before she informs me it’s my turn. I shake my head and hold my hands out in protest.

  “You wanna sing together, Shenoy?” Mason asks. “I’m game if you are.”

  “I suck.”

  “Me too, but who’s judging? I’ll even let you pick the song. No boy bands, though.”

  “Well, that’s a deal-breaker, Cutler.”

  He leans in closer to me. His voice is low, each word laced with passion. “C’mon honey, let’s make some music together. Maybe neither of us can sing worth a lick, but there isn’t a doubt in my mind that we have a harmony of our own making.”

  Either I’ve drunk too much and am dizzy, or this man has literally made me swoon. Know why I love boys who read? Cause they can say romantic shit like that.

  “Hey, I’ll go up there with you if she doesn’t want to,” Jordan offers. “And I’ve been told I have a great voice too.” She bends toward the table to give Mason a nice view of her cleavage.

  “Thanks, Jordan, but Mason and I are going to give it a shot.”

  Three very strong mojitos, arm-bending friends, the threat of a mean-girl attack, and his encouraging smile is a good a recipe for a bad mistake.

  I tap a title on the laminated page. “You know this one?”

  He smiles. “I’m familiar. You sure you want to do that one, though?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Just confirming.” His blue eyes twinkle as his smile inches toward wicked.

  When we get up there, it hits me with the first note.

  Mason is a liar.

  He can sing. His voice is deep and masculine and oh so seductive. I almost drop my microphone as the notes wrap around me. I hum at first. He waits for me, but I have no voice. I can barely stand on my shaky legs. Billy Currington’s “Must Be Doin’ Something Right” is already high on the sexy, but hearing Mason sing it renders me speechless. Thanks, Billy Currington. Thanks a lot for writing a song so freaking hot it might just cause me to spontaneously melt. Did I really pick a song that talks about the complicated navigations of a woman’s body? Did I really ask the boy who makes my heart sputter to sing it with me?

  I sure did.

  When Mason takes a step closer to me and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, I hear a chorus of sighs from every girl in the bar. I swallow, focusing on his ocean blue eyes. God help me, I could strip right now. I hum along, but there is no way I can compete with his voice.

  When it’s over, there is a huge applause. At least I think it is huge. My heart is pumping so loud it drowns out all the other noises.

  He steps closer still until we’re almost touching. “You hardly sang. You hung me out to dry.”

  “You held your own.” I reach out and touch his cheek to convince myself that this surreal experience is actually happening.

  Guess what?

  It is.

  When we come back to the table, more people have joined.

  “This isn’t my drink,” I say, pointing to the pink concoction where my seat is.

  “It’s mine. I moved us around,” Jordan says, coming up behind me.

  Is she still here?

  “You sang like a rock star,” she says, clapping Mason’s arm. “I love that song.” She glares at me. “I even know all the words.”

  “I pretended I was in the shower the whole time.” He grins at me. I’m glad he didn’t say that while we were up there or I would have started imagining him in the shower too.

  She plops down in my seat. “Are you sitting?” she asks Mason. “There’s a chair over there for Kiran.”

  “Why don’t I move that chair over here,” he says.

  Jordan, ever so bitchy, takes care of that idea. “There’s no room.”

  “Jordan,” Sidney says, standing up. I love Sidney, but I don’t need her to stand up for me. What I really want to do is go back to the hotel with him. But tonight is about spending time with friends I haven’t seen in a long time. If that means dealing with Jordan Adler, it’s a small price to pay.

  “No worries, I don’t mind sitting in his lap.”

  Mason’s arm comes across my waist. In that simple gesture, he squashes all the hope in Jordan’s eyes.

  “Nice problem-solving, sunshine.”

  I hate the idea of squashing anyone’s hope. But in this case, I’ll make an exception.

  Chapter 9

  Kiran

  We get into the rickety elevator. I push the button for my floor.

  “You forgot to push my floor,” he says when the doors close.

  “No, I didn’t.” I lean back against the cool interior walls of the elevator. I’ve caught him off-guard. He’s surprised, but in a good way. I mentally fist bump myself for the way I handled it.

  “Thought you’d never ask. But one question.”

  “Yes, I’m a virgin,” I blurt out.

  “How drunk are you?” he asks at the same time.

  I’ll take stupid things Kiran Shenoy blurts out for three hundred, Alex. Oh look, I got the Daily Double.

  Yeah, real smooth. “Drunk enough to blurt out something very stupid.”

  He takes a hold of my arms and moves them away from my face. “Wasn’t stupid.”

  “I just figured you should know.” Every sentence feels like I’m backing up a bus and running over myself again.

  “I already guessed.”

  “Oh, it’s pretty obvious, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not drunk. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me in any way.”

  The doors open. He gestures for me to step o
ut first or maybe just step out altogether. He follows me. The keycard reader doesn’t work for three scary tries. I let out a deep breath when the light finally turns green.

  Eureka. We’re in.

  I turn around and throw my arms around him. His hands settle on my hips. He walks us back to the bed. His mouth covers mine in lusty kisses. Kiss. Kiss. Pause.

  With a deep breath, he buries his head in my shoulder.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Let’s talk.”

  That doesn’t sound good.

  “Okay.”

  We sit on the bed. “I don’t think we should, Kiran.”

  “Why?”

  “This is your first time. It needs to be special.”

  “You are special, Mason.”

  He smiles and takes my hand. “Thank you. You’re special to me too. But I can’t make you any promises, Kiran. I don’t know where my life will lead me. You’re important to me. I don’t want to ruin your first time. I don’t want you to have regrets.”

  Is it normal for two people to have conversations about sex like this? I have no point of reference. Either way, he’s sliced through my buzz.

  I shift away from him. “What was your first time like? Oh wait, let me guess.” I tap my finger against my lips. “I bet the heavens opened up and sun shone down on the earth while a choir of angels sang you into climax.”

  His rueful smile does nothing to temper me. “Is sarcasm your second language? You speak it fluently.”

  “Only conversationally. Seriously, what was your first time like? I want to know.”

  “It was awful. I was fifteen, and I had no idea what I was doing. We were in the backseat of her car, all cramped and uncomfortable. I wasn’t very attentive either. The poor girl didn’t enjoy herself. This makes me sounds like a complete dick, but I was thinking of another girl the whole time.

  “That is a dick move. Who were you thinking of?”

  He’s quiet for a while. “Scarlett Johansson.”

  I lob a pillow at him. I aim for his head, but he catches it before it makes contact.

  “Is that who you’d be thinking of with me?”

  He clasps my hand. He probably suspects I’m about ready to smack him. “Never, Kiran. I promise you I would not be thinking of her.”

 

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