Page 23 of Open Liner
“Ah, yeah.” A slow, sexy grin rolled to his features, and damn, I couldn’t quite look away from him. “I’m in charge of setting up a fundraiser for the fire company this year, and I want to do something different.”
“What, the spaghetti dinners aren’t drawing in crowds?” I teased. I’d seen the random flyers around town every once in a while, but that seemed like such an odd thing to show up to. Did someone just stand there with a bucket of spaghetti in marinara and shovel it onto plate after plate?
Drake barked a laugh. “Yeah, not lately. So, I was thinking of trying a small show, local talent. Draw in a crowd, bring some energy to the place.”
“Oh, is this a local band?” I asked. I loved trying out small, unknown bands. Stumbling upon someone good was like finding a hidden treasure you wanted to share with everyone.
“Yeah, so I understand if you wouldn’t be interested—”
“Nuh uh, not getting out of this,” I said. “I’m definitely in.”
“I haven’t even mentioned when,” he said, shaking his head. Still, I’d count the grin on his lips as a good sign. His fingers were inches away from mine, and the temptation to brush against his just to feel the jolt was ever-present. That sort of electricity was rare, and I craved it.
“Mm, I’ll make it work around my schedule,” I said with a shrug. Truth be told, I wanted to spend more time around him, any way I could. This close, his scent tickled my nose, some cedar cologne and the hint of smoke. It intoxicated me.
“This Friday?” he asked.
I wrinkled my nose. Friday, I worked at the shop until close. “Are they the headliner? If it’s later, I’ll be there.” I wanted to ask was if he wanted to cash in on the rain check from the beach. Granted, while I sure as fuck wouldn’t pass up on more orgasms, I found I just wanted to be around him. Clearly, a terrible sign for keeping things light and easy between us.
“Yeah, the show doesn’t start until nine.” He swigged another gulp of beer, and I enjoyed the bob of his Adam’s apple. “We can hang after if you want.” Drake’s gaze snagged mine, and the heat there lit me up from the inside out. Tension percolated between us, thickening the air as neither of us looked away.
I swallowed hard. I could be dense, but I was pretty sure I picked up what he was implying. “Yeah,” I managed, my throat dry. “I’d like that.”
The bartender returned, slicing through the tension with knife-like precision. He dropped off the takeout Drake had ordered, already in its Styrofoam container and plastic bag.
Drake swallowed the last of his beer and placed the glass onto the counter. “All right. I’d better be out of here,” he said, scooping up his takeout and rising to a stand. Part of me wanted to beg for a few more minutes, but my folks were waiting over at the booth for me, and I needed to return to them. “See you Friday?”
I nodded. “I’ll be there.”
His gaze zeroed in on my lips, and for a moment, I hoped he was going to dip in and claim them again.
Instead, he lifted a hand in a wave and stepped off. Disappointment thudded through me as I watched him head out of Fun-Guy. Both of my parents were blatantly staring at me—I could feel the looks boring into me—but I wasn’t going to give them a morsel. Not when Drake’s sudden appearance had muddled my thoughts. My parents’ offer to move with them felt light-years away, even if it had only been brought up a bit ago.
I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself back to the table.
I didn’t have to give an answer yet, so for now, I’d enjoy each moment I got with Drake.
If he followed my normal dating pattern, this wouldn’t end up lasting anyway.
Chapter ten
Drake
Spring Fires was a mix of punk and alt, a good blend of what I was looking for to headline the fire station fundraiser. Sure, a show might scare away some of the folks who normally attended the spaghetti dinners, but Chief had wanted me to shake things up a bit.
I ran my fingers through my hair for the thousandth time since I’d arrived at the venue. I’d only been here for half an hour, early enough that the first band was still setting up. A few counties over, the music hall here wasn’t a huge drive but had good draw from the Main Line, despite being smaller. The lights were already dimmed, and I loitered by the bar with the beer I’d grabbed.
I wasn’t nervous for the band, and I’d attended a dozen and one shows by my lonesome.
However, I’d invited my sister’s ex to come here with me, and I also wanted to fuck him again something fierce.
Which was all sorts of wrong. I scrubbed at my face. Fuck, I needed to talk to Serena, at least get a vibe off her to see how attached she’d been. She wasn’t languishing over the breakup or anything, but still. Sticking my dick in her ex pretty much broke the sibling code.
Yet August had been all I could think about for a week straight. The rapture in his gaze when he’d sucked my cock, the brightness in his features. The goofy way he rambled about the weirdest topics. His tousled blond hair, the tattoos decorating his lithe limbs. Yeah, the guy was a stunner, but I also felt insanely comfortable around him. Which was a rarity.
The first band, Dumpster Toilet, launched into thrash punk, the discordant sound echoing through the place. People were trickling in, some taking the seats lined around the perimeter, others flooding to the center floor to watch. The lights flashed on stage, and the music boomed, and I settled back against the wall in the spot I’d claimed.
The pressure to succeed in this fundraiser had started to creep in. Not that Mom or Dad made me feel like I had anything to prove, but both Serena and Blair were effortlessly impossible to live up to. Serena was a lawyer, and Blair was in her residency as a doctor. Cream of the crop careers. Meanwhile, I had leapt straight into being a firefighter, which, while solid, didn’t have the same prestige. And the odd hours had scared many a guy away.
