A few days later, alone on my sister’s couch, I cranked up the Fugees while I tried to ignore the repetitive image of Reid’s full lips and bared chest when he answered the door. I stared at my blinking cursor and closed my eyes, trying to escape the circulating heat that had everything to do with a set of hazel eyes.
I was attracted to him. Big deal. I could move past that. I needed to focus on saving money and writing for Speak. I was on a mission and didn’t need to play into Lia’s assumption. If anything, Reid was the last man I should be thinking about. But it wasn’t just thinking. It’d gone past that point and moved onto daydreaming. If I weren’t careful, it would be fixating. And the last time I did that, I lost two months of my life on Dylan.
I no longer did crushes. Those were for teenagers, and I’d earned my twenties badge. And despite my recent behavior and stance on adulting, I knew it was time to grow up a little. I had a shitload of work and long strides to make to get to where I needed to be.
My cellphone pinged, but I ignored it. I had hours until Paige and Neil got home. I’d been picking up double shifts for the last week. It was my only day to write, and still, I couldn’t get a single sentence out due to the incessant daydreams. I didn’t know enough about Reid Crowne, aside from the fact that he grew up with two shitty parents, his only love was his music, and he was recently single.
Still, the image of his fuckable body blazed a hot trail through my thoughts and warmed me to the point of frustration. My phone pinged again, and I picked it up. Jaw hanging open, I read the first two texts.
Dylan: Hey, babe. Can you talk?
Dylan: I’m in Austin. I’ll be playing at The Snake Lounge and I really want to see you.
I leapt from the couch and spoke to my phone. “Oh, hell no!” Pacing while typing and deleting a handful of messages, I thought better of it and texted my judge and jury.
Dylan texted. He’s in Austin playing tonight.
Lexi: I’m not speaking to you.
Miffed for seconds, I chuckled when I remembered why she wouldn’t be speaking to me. I gave Ben her number. Things must have been going well because she liked him.
You can’t be pissed at me about that. He’s perfect for you. You’ll see.
Lexi: He’s a real poet. That was sarcasm by the way. Now I’ll be up there for his show next week. I’ve been lured.
I can tell you’re really pissed.
Lexi: So pissed. :O)
Can we talk about Dylan?
Lexi: Nothing to talk about. Tell him to fuck off. Besides, you have a thing for Reid.
I don’t have a thing for Reid.
Lexi: It’s me you’re talking to.
He’s hot. Doesn’t mean it’s a thing. And he’s totally moody.
Lexi: Perfect for you.
Can you come down?
Lexi: Can’t. I’m watching the super sperm.
I’m going to the show.
Lexi: You should, give him false hope and then kick him in the nuts. Medicine with no sugar.
Good talk.
Lexi: I’m your girl. Let me know how it goes. Ben. I like him.
I knew I made the right call giving him her number.
I do too. He’s pretty awesome and so talented. With that voice, he’s going places.
Lexi: I can’t believe Reid’s the drummer. Talk about freaky coincidence.
Right?
Lexi: Gotta go. Text me tomorrow. I want to know everything.
Will do.
Lexi: Do not have sex with him.
Which one?
Lexi: Either.
I won’t.
An hour later, I answered Dylan’s text, letting him know I would be at his show. I pulled out a black dress that highlighted my every curve and spent hours dolling myself up, waxing, straightening my unruly hair, and putting on heavy eyes and lips. By the time Paige and Neil got home, I was running on adrenaline. I was lucky enough to be afforded the chance to tell Dylan off in person. I wasn’t about to miss that opportunity. I deserved better from him. Two months in a rock star’s dating life is like ten years. I wanted a fair and proper divorce.
Paige walked through the door in the best of moods, her hands full of paper bags with Neil hot on her heels. “Hey,” she said as her eyes widened. “God, you look so pretty!”
“Thanks,” I said, taking a grocery bag from her hand. Tipping my chin up at Neil, I said, “Sup, Neil.”
“Little woman,” he said with a smile. “What you all dressed up for?”
My eyes shot to Paige. “So, Dylan texted.”
Paige opened her mouth, and I clamped it shut with my hand. “Hey, I love you. Shut up. I’m only going there to tell him off.”
She glared at me as I slowly took my hand away from her mouth. “I swear, Paige. But I need to—”
“Borrow my car?” she deadpanned. “No.”
“Take mine,” Neil said, tossing his keys on the counter before he waggled his brows. “Give him hell.”
“What? No,” Paige protested. Neil wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “Give her a chance, Paige.”
“Yeah, Paige, give her a chance,” I echoed as Neil smiled and buried his head in her neck. She squirmed with a smile and turned her face to meet his lips.
“I’ll be back before midnight and won’t drink. I swear,” I assured my smitten sister, taking total advantage of the situation.
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “Just be careful, okay?”
“Promise,” I said before I mouthed a silent “Thank you” to Neil. Over the past week, Neil and I had gotten to know each other. As it turned out, he was a bit of a techie nerd. We’d stayed up late one night talking music—his favorite was country—and all the latest technology out there while Paige snored on the couch. He swore within the next ten years streaming video would take over mainstream media. He was a cool guy, my sister’s chosen beau, and I had to admit, after conversing with him for a few hours, I had a bit of a personality crush on him. I was in his corner when it came to Paige, and I knew he loved my sister by the way he kept bringing her up, with “Paige thinks this,” and “Paige likes that.” It gave me a lot of comfort to know he cared for her in that way. It also gave me the gumption to realize I had nothing resembling that with Dylan.
And he was about to get back as good as he gave.
With Neil and Paige in the kitchen cooking dinner together, I grabbed my keys and made my leave. I was at the foot of the stairs when I heard my name.
“Stella?”
I turned to find Reid with his mouth parted as he looked me over. His brow was covered in fresh sweat as he ran his fingers through his hair. I was already beginning to melt, but even more so under the weight of his stare. Hazel eyes scanned my face before they dropped to scour my body. I let him feast, and I was actually happy about the fact that he caught me all dressed up with some place to go.
“I wouldn’t go up there if I were you,” I said with a nod over my shoulder. “They kind of have a love fest thing going on. Things are about to get freaky!” I waggled my brows with a laugh while his gaze rested on my lips.
“And what do you have going on?”
“Sweet revenge, my friend,” I said lightly. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.” I moved past him and was caught by the arm. His warm fingers seared my flesh, and I stared at them until he took them away.
“Look, uh. I was actually going to ask for a ride. You going downtown?”
“Yeah, my ex has a show.”
Reid’s lips twisted in a knowing smirk. “Revenge, huh? What did he do?”
I thought of the months I’d spent with Dylan and came up with the truth. “He forgot about me.”
“He won’t make that mistake again,” Reid said as he nodded toward my dress.
“Are we being nice now?” I asked before batting my lashes.
“We can give it a try.” He smirked and my pulse sped up. “So, how about a ride?”
“I can’t take you back here.”
He shrugged. “It’s cool. I’ll find a way.”
“Let’s go.” In Neil’s Chevy S-10, Reid gave me directions downtown, and I pressed my brows together when we pulled into a gas station.
“This is where you needed to go?”
He nodded before he pulled an envelope of money from his pocket. Curious, I got out with him with a lie about being thirsty. Inside, he walked straight up to the attendant, grabbed a MoneyGram form, and then started filling it out.
Taking a soda from the fridge, I stood in line behind him and peeked over his shoulder to see he’d addressed it to Courtney Crowne, his mother. He was sending her five hundred dollars.
Once I paid for my drink and we were back in the truck, I couldn’t help my question.
“Everything okay at home?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure?” I asked with an easy tone. “’Cause that was a lot of money.”
His jaw ticked and his eyes went cool. “Wow, you really need to practice the art of subtlety.”
“What’s the money for, Reid?”
He looked at me pointedly. “None of your damned business, Stella,” he snapped. Still idling, I slammed the truck back into park and turned on him.
“Okay, well, I’m not one to pry—”
“Allow me to call bullshit on that,” he said as he ripped his eyes from me and looked out the window.
“Okay, maybe I care about the fact that you can’t pay your rent and never have shit to eat and you just sent two weeks of tips to your alcoholic mother!”
“She needs it,” he said simply, his eyes still on the passing human traffic outside the window. I cranked up the AC as the dry heat filtered through the cabin.
“Why? Why does she need it? To buy more booze?”
“Hey,” he said as his head snapped back in my direction. “Chill out. This isn’t a discussion you get to have with me. Take the fucking hint.”
He was right. One hundred percent. And it meant nothing.
“What the hell, Reid? Does she know you’re going through a hard time and can barely lift a tray with a broken arm to work? Does she know you have no furniture in your house and sleep on a mattress top on the floor?”
His pride moved front and center as he glared at me. “Again. None of your damned business, Stella. I can take care of myself. What the hell do you care?”
“I just told you, I do. And I know what you told me about them. So, now, I’m wondering why you’re here wasting away in that apartment to support your deadbeat parents!”
“It’s for my father’s fucking insulin, okay? He’ll die without it. They don’t have insurance and it’s fucking expensive. She’s working and she can’t do it alone, alright? It’s life or death, Stella. He doesn’t get that medicine, he dies!”
I shrank in my seat as I looked over at him. He was fuming, his chest heaving as he clenched his fists.
“I’m so sorry. Reid, I’m sorry.”
“Fine, whatever,” he said, opening the truck door. I gripped him by the waist of his jeans and yanked him back in. Frantic to make it up to him, I grappled for words as he stared at me as if I’d grown two heads. Utterly clueless as to how to make it right, I pulled him to me in the most awkward hug imaginable, and he froze at the contact. Body twisted, I wrapped my arms around him as he blew my hair out of his face.
“What are you doing?” he asked through a mouthful of my hair.
“I’m hugging you,” I said into his neck. Irish Spring drifted through my nose and caused a flood of the warmth I was growing used to, and had started to crave. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
It took a few seconds, but I finally felt his arm circle my waist, his cast at my back. Wrapped in his hold, his chest moved against my cheek. “God, you’re insane,” he said on a chuckle as he let me hold him.
“I know.”
“You’re a grenade,” he whispered at my temple.
“I know.”
“It’s okay, Stella,” he said softly as he ran his fingers through my hair. I was sure he was doing it on instinct, and my initial thought was proven positive when he stopped himself. “It’s okay, Stella. This is just the way it is. This is my life.”
“Your life sucks.”
He laughed loudly as I pulled away and saw we wore matching smiles. Our lips were close. I could practically feel his stubble against my cheek. Even though he was stiff with hesitation, we lingered there, eyes locked. I pulled away and righted myself behind the wheel.
“I’ll take you home, okay? It’s too far to walk. Unless you want to come with me?”
“It’s not a good idea. You know that, right? This won’t make you feel any better.”
“So, you’re coming?” I asked, ignoring his warning.
“To watch this train wreck?” He widened his eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
We made good time to the club and actually managed to find rock star parking. The dive was off of 6th Street and was a total shit hole. I could tell it had new owners by the month because the marquee was littered with do-overs.
“This place is a joke,” Reid said as he looked over to me. “You need to be careful where you go down here.”
“Yes, Mom,” I muttered as I locked the doors to the truck and we looked at the place. A few girls wandered in ahead of us, and I couldn’t help the sinking feeling that Reid might be right. For every dropout groupie, there were ten more to take their place. I knew I wasn’t a groupie. And I didn’t have to prove shit to Dylan.
“Let’s go,” I said, pulling the keys back out of my purse.
“What?” Reid looked over at me with raised brows.
“You’re right, okay? This is stupid.”
“Fuck that,” he said, clasping his hand with mine and pulling me toward the door.
“Reid,” I whisper-yelled as he ushered us through the entrance. The band was already playing. Dylan was working the small crowd—mostly girls—who were doing their best to get his attention. Reid walked up to the bar with me in tow and ordered a beer. Dylan spotted us, and I saw his eyes light up until they drifted down to our clasped hands. Seconds later, Reid pulled me into his lap, and I gasped at the feeling of him behind me. His breath hit my neck, and I leaned into it.
“Eat your fucking heart out, prick,” Reid murmured into my ear as Dylan’s eyes narrowed and he wreaked havoc on the mic with “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” by Jet. I adjusted myself on Reid’s lap while he casually sucked his beer, his demeanor cocky and self-assured, and I found it sexy as hell. I was sure if I glanced back at his lips, I would see a satisfied smirk. He was clearly enjoying it. I could tell by his possessive hold and the air coming off of him. My hand rested on his cast and my other on his thigh, the back of my head on his collarbone. Eyes locked with Dylan, I couldn’t help but notice how I felt perfectly molded to Reid’s body. We fit. As tempted as I’d been to hear some sort of apology from Dylan, Reid had my full attention. Behind me, he sat his beer on the bar and pushed the hair away from my neck, his whisper causing more gooseflesh to bubble on my skin and a streak of warmth through my chest and between my thighs. “Right now, he’s thinking: God, she looks so fucking beautiful.” His heated whisper had my eyes closing briefly as I tried not to wiggle in his lap. “He’s thinking of how fucking good you would look spread out before him. How amazing it would feel to taste you.” My breath hitched as his fingers roamed back and forth over my stomach. “He’s thinking of how fucking perfect you would feel when he pressed into you.” Turned on to the point of no return, and unsure if it was an act for my benefit, I twisted my head, offering my lips. Reid hesitated before he leaned in and brushed his gently against mine. Pulse racing, I pressed in and felt the groan in his chest before he ripped himself away.
“Stop it, Stella,” he said as he pecked my lips to keep up the charade and spread his thighs, putting me on full display between them.
The song ended as all thoughts of Dylan completely eluded me. I could feel Reid stiff beneath me while my heart galloped.
Dylan tossed his mic on the stage and moved toward us, and I hastily got to my feet.
“Let’s go. Take me somewhere.”
“We just got here,” Reid said with a cocky grin, his elbows on the edge of the bar.
“Not cool, Reid, let’s go. I told you I didn’t need this.” Just as I said it, I heard my name called in question behind me. Reid’s gaze fixed past my shoulder, and I turned to face Dylan. Golden brown hair and deep blue eyes peered back at me.
“What the fuck is this, Stella?” Dylan was still beautiful. He was still the guy I’d spent two months having sex with on a couch. But when I looked at him, all I felt was Reid’s soft lips and the fire in his eyes.
“This is poor form,” I said, defeated. “Take care of yourself, Dylan.”
He took a step forward. “Can I talk to you?” He paused and looked over at Reid. “Alone?”
“No,” I said as Reid stood and took my hand. “No, you can’t.”
“Really?” he said as he looked past me and swallowed.
“Yeah, really.”
“Stella!” Drew, the guitarist for Meat, called out to me from the stage, and I gave him an unenthusiastic wave. “Looking good, baby!”
“Thanks!”
Drew had been my favorite. He’d been a friend. And just as I suspected, all of my time with Dylan and the rest of the guys came back as a fresh scratch, but in just weeks had transformed into nothing more than a memory. I was no longer hurt about Dylan and felt like just as much of an asshole for what I’d just done. Dylan cupped his chin, his features twisted in confusion as he stood there, clueless.
“Let’s go,” I said to Reid, who followed me out of the bar. I let go of his hand and stuck the keys in it before I took the passenger side.
“You okay?”
Angry, aroused, and more than confused, I turned on him. “What was that in there? Why the big show? You were against this whole thing.”
“I’m not as nice of a guy as you think. And sometimes I like to play devil’s advocate.” He shrugged, starting the truck. “Home?”
“No. I’m not going home tonight. My sister is probably having sex right now on the couch I sleep on. I HATE MY FUCKING LIFE!”
Reid burst out laughing as he pulled away from the curb. “It gets better.”
“Liar.”
“I totally am,” he said, amusement dancing in his eyes as he pushed the hair away from my bare shoulder. “I know a place.”
“Let’s go.”
He’d taken me to a show a couple blocks from 6th Street. It was a metal band he was crazy about. I appreciated them to a point—metal wasn’t my favorite—but Reid seemed in awe of the lead singer and pointed out a few interesting facts about how they got together. We spent the whole show yelling back and forth while I took mental notes. He told me a label would pick them up soon, and it would be in my best interest to write about a band that was going somewhere. I spent a good part of the show telling him what an idiot he was and that Dead Sergeants had their own future and were worth writing about. It was pretty much tit for tat between us until they started playing Queensryche’s “Silent Lucidity”. And all at once, I was captured by the execution and how they made it their own. I got lost in the deep timbre of the voice that filled the club. There wasn’t a word from the crowd, even after the last trickle of acoustic notes rang out. The club exploded with applause as Reid looked at me with I told you so written all over his face.
Reid knew a lot about the city, and at the show, he’d done the hand grasp with a few local musicians. Those who approached him seemed to respect him and kept the conversations short, probably because he wasn’t a man of too many words. And I spent a majority of our time together pulling them out of him. He wasn’t shy with his opinions, and that we had in common. Still, as I stared at him, laid back in his shoulder-high bench seat, his cast on the table, and his eyes on mine, it felt like he was trying to tell me more. Even with a set jaw and pressed brows, his eyes held his world, and I couldn’t help but enjoy every second they were on me.
After the performance, we spent the rest of the witching hour devouring salty, grease-filled burgers at a little shack called Arnie’s.
“Who’s your favorite band?” I asked, sucking on the side of my chili cheeseburger to keep it from dripping down my dress.
“Haven’t thought about it,” he said as he watched me devour the double stack of meat. “God, you were hungry.”
“Not anymore,” I said as I popped the last of it into my mouth and washed it down with Dr. Pepper.
“You don’t have a favorite?”
“Nope,” he said as he gathered the rest of his fries into his fingers and popped them in his mouth.
“Influences?”
“Everything,” he said with a small smile. “I wrote a song off a commercial beat once.”
“You write for the Sergeants?”
“Most of the originals. Ben’s good at lyrics, but I’ve laid down a few.”
“You sing?”
“Not if I can help it,” he said with a shrug. “Rye does most of the backup and comes up with a good riff in minutes, and it’s always good.”
“When’s your next show?”
“They play Saturday.”
“No,” I said, standing and stretching. “Your next show.”
I almost missed his smile. “Two weeks.”
“I’ll be there,” I assured. “I have a feeling about you.”
He stood, grabbed our trash, and threw it away. “It’s late.”
“It’s early,” I argued. “So, tell me about Lia.”
“Jesus Christ. Every time I think it’s safe to go into the water with you . . . No, I’m not talking to you about Lia.” Pushing through the glass door, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket.
“You’re not really a smoker.”
He lifted his cigarette and took a deep drag. “I would say I’m really smoking this.”
“You know what I mean,” I said as I stepped up on a curb and balanced my way over it in my heels, arms stretched as if I were on a high wire.
“I smoke when I feel like it.”
“Why don’t you just quit?”
“Why don’t you just let me smoke?” he said as he watched me execute a heel turn.
He shoved his cigarette between his lips and did a slow clap, and I gave him a wink.
“So, what’s your type? You obviously like blondes.”
“Women who don’t ask a lot of questions.”
“Har, har,” I said as I leapt into him, purposefully knocking the cigarette out of his hand.
He let out a grudge-filled chuckle. “You little asshole.”
“Seven minutes of your life I just saved you, Crowne. A cigarette takes that much off your heartbeat, buddy.”
“That’s a myth, pal,” he said, opening the passenger door.
“What if it’s the best seven minutes of your life? That’s two songs. I saved you two songs, Reid Crowne. Someday, you’ll thank me for it.”
He shut the door and took the driver’s seat, as if it was the most natural thing. I stared at him across the seat. “Well, I’m sorry if she hurt you.”
He sighed as he started the truck. “We hurt each other.”
“What happened?”
He sat back and winced, as if he was trying to see something through the wheel. “It was good and then it was bad. Too much static. Too much chaos. I got tired and she got pissed.”
“You really loved her,” I said as I watched him trace the steering wheel with his finger, touching every groove.
“There was love. There were a lot of things.”
“And then?”
“We crashed.”
Despite my protest, Reid drove us back to the complex and parked Neil’s truck.
“Wait here, okay?”
He nodded as I made double time up the stairs and opened the door to silence. I made quick work of dumping Neil’s keys and changing into a T-shirt, shorts, and Chucks. I grabbed four beers from the fridge and walked back down the steps, motioning for him to join me on a large patch of grass on top of a hill between apartment buildings.
“I’m not tired, you?” I asked as he shook his head, followed me into the grass, and sat next to me. I popped a beer and handed it to him.
“God, I hate this heat,” I said as I piled my hair on top of my head and fastened it before I downed the beer. Reid glanced around the complex and then back to Paige’s apartment.
“You scared of my sister?”
“Only when she’s pissed,” he said with a chuckle.
“I agree. She’s scary. She shrieks.”
“I’ve only seen it once. I’m good with only seeing it once.”
We laughed and clinked our beers.
“You met at work?”
“Yeah,” he said as he leaned back on his elbows and crossed his boots. He surrounded me with his length.
“You two are nothing alike,” I told him.
“I like being around her. She’s grounded and she smiles a lot. She’s easy.”
I couldn’t help but take offense. “Opposed to the big mouthed sister who’s loud and opinionated.”
“Most definitely,” he said smugly, “but don’t go changing to please me.”
“Oh, I won’t,” I snapped, taking the beer from him and drinking it. He took another one from the pile and popped it.
“So, that’s it, a quiet woman who smiles a lot? That’s your dream woman?”
“Guess so.”
“Never pegged you for simple.”
“Now there’s a word. Simple. My favorite fucking word. I’ll take that.” I heard the sad edge of his words and nudged him.
“You’ll have that cast off soon, and then you can make life your bitch. Two weeks.”
“Let the countdown begin.”
I lay on my back and looked up at the few stars the night sky allowed us. “I thought it would be different, moving here. I thought it would be more exciting. Real freedom, you know? But I have since learned being free involves its own chains. My sister acts like a ninety-year-old woman. She cooks dinner at eight o’clock and is in bed by eleven. What the hell is that, Reid?”
He looked over at me as I stuck out my lip. “This is totally boring.”
“She got it all out of her system, I guess.”
“They’ll get married. I know it.” I studied Reid. “She’s going to marry Neil. And then what?”
“And then whatever they want,” he said as he took a long swallow and laid his head next to mine.
“Not me. I’ll have take-out every other night, stay up past midnight every day, get my passport stamped, eat weird shit, do things that scare me. I want to burn out.”
“You don’t say,” Reid said, a huge grin spreading across his face.
“Hell yes! I want to do something amazing, something groundbreaking. And I’ve already set the timer.” I turned on my stomach, forearms perched as I looked down at him. “I will do the impossible by the time I’m twenty-nine.”
“What’s that going to be?”
I gave him my biggest smile. “Wait and see.”