I wasn’t sure where I thought this whole pop-up shop tryst with the sarcastic, sexy drummer was going, but I sure hoped it wasn’t into some true crime annals. If he wanted, it wouldn’t take much for him to off me—I was making it oh so easy for him. But no. I was going off the assumption that he was too good-looking to be hiding bodies in the freezer.
Looking up from the beat, I found him staring. Oh lord, he was dangerously delicious. Like a young Kurt Cobain before the drug addiction engulfed him. Actually, that was maybe not the best comparison, considering how that all worked out for him and Courtney Love. Still, I smiled at Beats cunningly, my lids fluttering. Shamelessly flirting. And Beats—oh yeah, he was soaking it up like a sponge.
I really needed to stop. Go back to the parking garage and wait formydate to finishhisdate and drive me home. That was the smartest thing to do. The safest bet. And I totally wasn’t going to do it. Because I liked Beats. Like really, really liked him. Like butterflies in the chest and a whole bunch of other places liked him. Like getting my fingers stuck in that mangled mess of his hair liked him. I’d never experienced such unquenched thirst. If this was lust, sign me up. I wanted whatever he was offering. And I could have it, too… if I was bold.
“Hold on there, Grace Note,” he said, using my adorable new nickname. “Have you seriously been fucking with me this whole time?”
I smiled, concentrating on my drum solo. “Just about the drumming.”
“So, no issues with your right and left then?”
“Uh, you know, sometimes. But everything else…” I winked, feeling like I could be my goofy self around him. “Totally factual.”
“Right,” he said, keeping an eye on the sticks as they whomped his thigh. “What song is this anyway?”
His question was valid, given the surface I was playing on had no range, but I pushed out my lower lip anyway. “Oh my god, soo… offended.”
“Don’t be. The only sound I hear is of my flesh crying.”
“Such a baby. I’m barely touching you.”
“My thighs do not agree.”
“The song I’m playing is actually inspired by you.”
“By me? I’ve known you for fifteen minutes.”
“That’s how inspiring you are.”
He laughed. “Okay.”
“I’m playing ‘I Dare You’ by Shinedown. Have you heard of it?”
“Because of my whole daring you to stay in the front row thing?” He grinned. “Very clever.”
“I thought so. Hold on. I’m coming to the end of my masterpiece.”
His eyes followed the sticks as they inched nearer to his sensitive triangle. It occurred to me then that I was just a hop, skip, and a jump away from his dick and balls. Holy shit, was that a bulge?
“You’re getting a little close there, don’t you think?” he asked, understandably concerned for the viability of his future children.
“It’s creative license,” I explained, finishing off the last two beats of the pantleg version of one of my favorite songs before taking a well-deserved bow. “And fade.”
“Wow.” Beats clapped, so moved by my performance he even pulled out a dollar bill from his pocket and flicked it at me. Turning it into an airplane, I flew it back to him. He wadded it up and lobbed it at my head. I ended our game of hot potato by taking it entirely too far, rising to my knees and shoving the dollar bill—and my hand—into his front pocket. He actually grunted like he was in pain, but the look on his face said otherwise. I felt something churn inside me, a new feeling but one that begged to be explored. Just not here. Not on the sidewalk. Not with a homeless runaway boy that my parents, if they found out, would murder me for.
I rocked back onto my butt, returning to my safe space, which wasn’t safe at all because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. Beats was like quicksand. On the surface he looked solid, but the minute you stepped in, you sank to your waist in submission.Think, Grace. Think. How was I going to pull myself up and out of this gelatinous thirst trap?
I picked his precious sticks up off my lap and presented them to him in my opened palms. “Sir.”
Beats reclaimed his property, turning them to check for damage.
“What did I say? Not a scratch on them.”
“You said; I just didn’t believe you.”
He smiled. I smiled. The air around us smiled.
Beats reached over and tapped me on the nose with a stick.
