Every Second Counts Page 2

  He drove an old Nova with the stiffest doors in the world. He had to turn in the driver’s seat and kick both legs at the inside to pop it open. Typically sliding through the window was easier, but not in a dress and heels.

  "Stand back ladies." Jackson called out the window before jutting both feet at the door. It flew open first time.

  "Smooth ride, stud. How do you expect to pick women up in this fucking thing?" Raven's face was a picture to behold. One eyebrow raised and nostrils flared, she shook her head.

  "The ladies love ol' Betty here. Don't talk about her as if she isn't here! It's okay, girl." Jackson ran his hand across the dashboard and patted it lightly. "Bellamy doesn't know what she's talking about."

  "Call me Bellamy again and that'll be your last attempt at being funny."

  "Oh, we're in full bitch mode tonight, are we? Worried I'll get more girls than you?"

  Faye had just managed to slide into the backseat when the front slammed back, hitting her knees. Raven threw herself inside the car and glared at Jackson. "In your fucking dreams."

  "Is that a challenge?" Jackson asked.

  Raven took a deep breath and Faye felt that she should step in before it boiled over. "Guys, shut up. You'd think the two of you were in love or something! Can we just be civil and go?"

  "Yeah, sorry kid. This night isn’t for us; it’s for you." Jack revved the engine and backed the car onto the street.

  "Where are we going, anyway?" Faye asked.

  "A small bar in Tempe. Brody's band is playing there at ten."

  "He's in a band? What's he play?"

  "Drums and occasionally sings, well, screams," Jackson said.

  A surge shot between her legs and Faye shuffled her position on the seat to restrict herself. That explains his beautiful body. "What kinda music is it?" she asked.

  "Some kind of metal. Not black metal before you wet your little panties, Lux."

  "Fuc—"

  "Who says she's wearing any? Jackson!" Raven screeched as he pumped on the brake at the most inopportune time. "I could've stabbed myself in the eye with the mascara brush, jerk. Thankfully I have cat-like reflexes."

  The trip to Tempe would take at least twenty minutes and so Faye sunk into the back and watched the city lights blur past them. She hoped Brody wanted to see her as much as she wanted to see him. He had expressed hope of catching her later, but that could be something he said to everyone. How the hell do you start conversations with guys? I'm doomed. Completely fucked and not in the pleasurable way.

  They arrived at the venue much faster than expected. Faye's nerves must have taken hold of her veins, because they virtually seized. Her legs were stiff and solid like lead, and sweat oozed from every pore on her hands. Argh…I haven't even seen him yet and he's only human. He'll be on stage soon and that will give me time to get a few bourbons down my neck—a little liquid courage.

  Once they arrived, Jackson allowed the ladies to exit through the driver's door. Faye knew what was coming next and she stood back to watch.

  Playfully, Raven shoved the palm of her hand into Jackson's chest, just as he'd lit a cigarette. The action made him cough. "Couldn't you have done that for us in the first place, jackass? I swear you're trying to push my buttons tonight."

  "And you're letting him. Jack, can I have a puff of that?" Faye asked, nodding towards the cigarette. She pinched her thumb and forefinger in the air and he passed it.

  "You haven't smoked in years, hon. Are you doing alright? Not gonna have a panic attack, are we?"

  "No panic attack. I'm just nervous. What if he shuts me down? It's been so long I'm not sure I can handle it."

  "He won't shut you down, Lux. The man couldn't take his eyes off you. I had to adjust him on the chair a bunch of times because he was staring. He digs you. Don't worry so much."

  "Fuck, really?" Her heart did star jumps and rattled against her ribcage.

  "Dammit, girl, get your pretty little ass inside already and talk to him." Jackson took the cigarette back from Faye and smacked her ass with the back of his hand. "Go, before I force you through the door."

  "Fine, fuck!" Faye did a little skip and a hop as she avoided a rather large pebble that she didn't fancy tripping over in six-inch heels. With a deep breath, and a quick flick of the hair, Faye walked up to the door, received her ‘over 21's’ wristband, and entered the bar.

  The establishment was virtually in darkness, with only the lights on the small stage at the end of the rectangular club. Faye noted the bar and bathroom were located to the left hand side, the rest was open space with a few small tables and stools in the back corners. Her eyes searched everywhere for him, but he wasn't there. She turned on her heels, preparing to return to Jackson and Raven, when she slammed into skin and muscle.

  His wooded musk smell danced around Faye's senses and she breathed it in. She knew before looking up that it was Brody she'd walked into. Heat and blood flushed her cheeks immediately. She pressed her hands on his chest in an attempt to move away but gasped quietly as she felt his physique below. "I… Hi, Brody," she managed to say.

  "Why hello, Faye. It's so nice to see you again. Up close and personal, too." His breath was tainted lightly with whisky. Stubble had started to grow in a shadow on his face. Faye gave them some distance, but Brody closed it again. "I'm glad you came. I wasn't sure you would."

  "Uhm…yeah. No, I'm really excited to see you play, actually. Showtime soon, right?" Faye allowed her gaze to fall on his, but their intensity made her feel so tiny.

  "We're on in twenty. Would you like a drink?"

  "I thought you'd never ask," Faye said with a sigh of relief. She wasn't an alcoholic, but it certainly calmed her nerves. If you could call this nerves. It felt entirely different from anything she'd experienced. Something about Brody sent her into an unknown territory.

  "What's your poison?" he asked. He leaned across the bar on one arm.

  The motion pulled his shirt collar out, and Faye couldn't help a peak beneath the cotton. And damn, she hadn't been disappointed. He was not only ripped to male perfection but was heavily tattooed beneath his clothes. In that moment she'd forgot that he asked her about a drink. When she looked up the twinkle in his eye and the smirk in the corner of his mouth told Faye he knew perfectly well what she'd just done. Oh my God…shoot me now! "Bourbon, straight. One ice cube. Please."

  "Good choice. I like a girl that drinks the hard stuff." He turned to the bartender. "Another of that single malt and the best bourbon you have, on the rock. Singular." Brody turned fully to Faye, still leaning on the bar. "I hate to be so blunt, but are you single?"

  "You hate being blunt? Funny, you strike me as the kinda guy who loves to be blunt." Faye was rather impressed with her answer. Not one but two full sentences was better than blabbing incoherent words at the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on.

  "What makes you think that?" He smiled and again it weakened Faye by the knees.

  "Confidence oozes from your pores. Everything about you is confident. I envy it, actually."

  "Why wouldn't you be confident? Look at you, you're gorgeous."

  "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." Faye returned the smile this time as the bartender handed her a glass.

  "I'll take that as a yes to being single, then. And a killer smile, too. Fuck, I'll never concentrate tonight with you in the crowd."

  "Should I hide myself from view?" Faye found that first ounce of confidence came within the first glorious sip of Jack—which she knew would be their best bourbon. It wasn't called a Kentucky Panty Dropper for nothing.

  "No, I'd like to know you're watching." He slid his drink across the bar and moved closer to Faye. His leg touched her thigh, but instead of moving away, she pressed in, testing her luck. What came next, she really hadn’t expected.

  Brody wrapped his right arm around Faye's waist and pulled her into him. He radiated warmth and she couldn't help but be drawn to it, to him. "Is this blunt enough for you?" he asked.

 
; "I could do with a little more," she said.

  He ran the back of his hand across her cheek and pushed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. He brushed his cheek against hers and whispered, "How 'bout now?"

  Absently, she ran her hands through his hair and grabbed at the scalp. His breath fanned across her neck and she pulled her head back. "Is this how you get to know every girl you meet?"

  "Only the pretty ones." His stubble rubbed on her cheek as he smiled. "But I'm not done with you, gorgeous. It's not every day you come across a talented tattoo artist with insane green eyes and long red hair. You're one to claim."

  "Too bad I'm not an animal that can be claimed." Faye dropped her hand and moved away from him. She smirked, and downed her glass of liquor. "Can I have another Jack over here, please?"

  Brody didn't retaliate in a slur of nasty words, nor did he even seem to be bothered in the slightest at Faye's retraction. Instead he watched her, with the same smirk on his face.

  "Brody, dude…" A tall, thin man with sharply cut blond hair came up to Brody from behind. "People are showing up and it's time. Let's go."

  "Okay. Michael, this is Faye. Faye, this is Michael."

  "Pleased to meet you, Faye." Michael turned to her and held out his hand.

  She placed hers in his, expecting to shake but was caught off guard when he pulled it to his mouth and kissed it.

  "Are you here for this idiot?"

  "I'm here with friends," Faye said. "But yeah, I'm curious to see how he plays."

  "He'd better be on-fucking-point, or he's dead to me. C'mon man, leave the stunner to her friends. You'll see her after. It was a pleasure." Michael nodded at Faye, which she returned.

  The two men walked toward the stage, talking quietly to each other. Brody left his drink on the bar.

  Faye took a sniff from the glass and felt her stomach hurl at the intense burst to her senses. She loved bourbon for its sweetness, but Scotch certainly didn't have that softer edge.

  Jackson and Raven walked up to the bar and just behind them was a large crowd of people, spilling through the doors two at a time.

  "So…" Raven tapped on the bar to get the tender’s attention. "How'd the first conversation go?"

  "Interesting," Faye said.

  "Interesting tells me nothing. Details, woman!" Raven huffed and Jackson laughed as he examined Brody's drink.

  "I think you can just have that Jack. It's Brody's and he has to play."

  "Stop changing the subject, woman."

  "Okay, put it this way, I'm not sure how we didn’t manage to kiss. It was intimate. Like…fuck me now, intimate."

  "Fuckin' yes. You’re gonna get laid. Our little Luxy is gonna finally spread her legs for someone and he's delicious."

  "I thought you were gay, crazy? How can a lesbian find a man delicious?" Jackson twirled his moustache and held the whisky with his other hand. In a dark grey suit, without the jacket, he looked like a 1920's reject. But that was the style these days, and Jackson had always been and dressed that way.

  "I can appreciate. Doesn't mean I want what's between his legs. The thought…" Raven shook her body in exaggerated disgust. "The horror! The horror!"

  "Don’t tell me you don't love cock. I've seen your collection of rubber ones."

  "They come in handy, I must admit." Raven nodded.

  "You guys are disgusting. I love you both." Faye hooked them both around the neck and hugged.

  Suddenly the lights went out completely. Voices hushed and the music that played lowly over the speakers shut off. Faye's heart surged pure heat and her hands shook, waiting until she could see him.

  The sound of a double bass drum came first, then the cymbals. Guitar and bass followed and as a deep, growling scream came over the microphone, the lights flashed on. Between the three other members was Brody, shirtless and focused.

  "Body!" Raven yelled over the music. "His fucking body, Faye! Oh my God…"

  "I…I know." Oh my God, indeed.

  Chapter Three

  It had been twenty minutes—give or take—since Brody and his band walked off the small stage. Faye kept her eyes on the door he’d walked through to start the show for his reappearance as Jackson and Raven bickered behind her about the same girl.

  "Who says she's into girls?"

  "Who says she's into sanctimonious pricks?"

  "Them's fightin' words, girl."

  "Both of you, shut up! Neither of you will get anywhere if you stand at the bar and have a drunken slag-fest with each other. Actions are what count. Right?" Faye stared at them both. Jackson's arms were folded and tense at his stomach, and Raven shifted on her feet with her famous scowl on display. "Right?"

  "Right." They both replied, at the same time. Raven turned quickly and headed towards the petite blonde. A flustered Jackson was hot on her tail soon enough.

  Faye laughed quietly to herself.

  "What's so funny?"

  Brody's voice wrapped around Faye's senses like a coiled ribbon.

  "I was just thinking how lucky my friends are that they're a couple of lovable assholes." She turned and was unexpectedly close to him. Her nose grazed his, and a steel gaze fixed on her own.

  "They're lucky to have you," he said. His eyes never left her and although Faye thought she should feel uncomfortable by this, she wasn't. His mere presence put her at a strange ease, regardless of how nervous she was.

  "You say that, but you don't even know me." Faye looked toward the bar as she spoke, hoping to catch the bartender's attention.

  "That's something I'd like to change. I planned on getting to know you inside and out. If you'll have me, of course."

  A simple gesture such as tucking her hair behind her ear had her mind in a tornado of feelings. She held onto the edge of the bar. "Are you kidding?" She looked up at him. "Do you own a mirror? I'm just curious as to why you're so interested in me, or why some gorgeous Scottsdale blonde hasn't snatched you up yet?"

  "What makes you think I'm into blonde Scottsdale girls? That couldn't be farther removed from the truth if you'd tried. If you really want to know, I like a woman who can hold her own and creating beautiful art on people's skin every day is just a bonus. Would you like me to continue, because I could go on all night about your beauty alone."

  "No, it's fine." Faye smiled up at Brody, who slipped his arms around her waist.

  "Good. Now, how many drinks do I need to catch up to you?"

  "I'm glad you asked," Faye said. The bartender had just slipped by them and she managed to catch his attention. "Was it Scotch?"

  "Just get me whatever you're having. That way we'll be on the same wavelength."

  "I like the way you think."

  In the duration of a few hours many drinks had been consumed. Faye knew it was a bad idea, but she couldn't help herself. She so rarely let her hair down and for the first time in God knows how long, she was having fun. Raven had successfully secured the blonde, much to Jackson's dismay. Not that it mattered. The many young ladies with a taste for fresh ink took to him like flies in a trap. In numbers, he'd win their little "battle", but Raven had taken the prize. She knew she'd hear all about it from both sides the next day…if she was sober enough to work.

  "Shit," Faye mumbled to her chest.

  "What, babe?" Brody asked. He placed an empty shot glass on the bar and turned to her.

  "I have work tomorrow and…fuck me, I'm drunk."

  Brody pulled her onto his lap, where he sat on a stool, and brushed her hair away from her neck. He kissed her skin and asked, "Is that a demand?"

  "It might be." Faye ground her hips down, and slowly she felt his cock harden against her ass.

  "C'mon." He took her hand and pulled Faye to her feet. "Let's get out of here."

  Double shit.

  Somehow they'd managed to get a taxi the moment they stepped outside. As if in a dream, one drove by, Brody stuck his hand in the air, and the vehicle stopped. Brody gave the driver an address—Faye assumed it was his place—lean
ed back in the seat, and wrapped his right hand around her thigh. Bared flesh, she had nowhere to hide from her body's reaction to his touch.

  "Are you okay?" he asked. "Or, rather, is this okay?"

  Faye took his hand and brushed it further up her leg. "What do you think?" This was not her usual style. She'd only just met the guy, but it felt different with Brody. She knew it sober and she really knew it drunk.

  "I think we'll be lucky to make it to the house." His voice dropped a few octaves as his fingers danced beneath the hem of her dress. His face leaned into hers. Her heart surged and she knew the moment was finally here. His lips brushed hers lightly and Faye held her breath.

  "Oi, you two," the driver said suddenly. The moment was gone, shattered into a thousand damn pieces. "No fucking or you pay to clean that seat."

  "There's no reason to be so hasty, sir." Faye couldn't hold her tongue. It was by far her worst drunken trait.

  "Yo, man. Keep your woman in place, won't you?" The driver spoke to Brody this time.

  Anger boiled over inside Faye. Her cheeks flushed and she was seeing red. But before she'd the chance to speak up for herself, Brody squeezed her leg then retracted his hand. He leaned forward, blocking Faye's view. "Timothy Watson, this is your name, correct?" Brody asked and the driver nodded.

  "Yeah, and?"

  "My name is Brody Cameron, just so we're acquainted and you understand that I am an honest man. This beautiful girl, here—who is not mine to claim—can tell you that is in fact my name." He turned his head to look at her.

  "That's his name," Faye said. What the hell is he doing?

  "What the fuck are you getting at, Brody?" The driver asked. His frustration was apparent in his suddenly erratic driving.

  Faye held onto the door for safe measure.

  "I want you to know the name of the honest man who's going to beat your face in the moment you stop this car." Brody's voice and demeanor were a vision of calm.

  Timothy, unfortunately, was the opposite. He slammed on the brakes, and Faye was thankful she'd braced herself long before. "Is that fucking right?" Timothy opened the car door and stepped outside.

  Faye could just see his knuckles pressing into the palm of his hand as he walked around the other side.