The smile I hadn’t known I was wearing turns into a frown. “Oh fuck off, Todd.”
“Shay! Bring the jar!” he yells, then hoots and points like a twelve-year-old.
I dig five ones out of my pocket before she even puts the dang jar under my nose.
Since Justin first came around, my swear jar idea has been biting me in the rear.
Chapter 9
Allie
Saturday nights at the shop are usually walk-ins. However, I did have one regular coming in for a scheduled appointment. The client happened to be Holly, who is also my roommate. The minute I suggested we reschedule our session and go see Justin’s band instead, she was all over it. She’s been trying to hook me up for the past two years. After pressuring me until I couldn’t take it anymore, she has dragged me to house parties, college bars, and even fraternity mixers, including the one where she met her current boyfriend. But I never met anyone. Instead, while out I always felt out of place and lonelier than if I were sitting at home. She didn’t give up but forced me into the blind date thing instead. Holly set up the two dates I’ve been on in the past two years. One was with her boss. Financially stable. Mature. And as boring as a visit to the dentist.
Holly goes to college part-time—like me—but she takes evening classes because she has an awesome job as a pharmacist assistant. Seeing her at work, you’d never guess she had a wild side. She’s smiley and cheerful, and except for a star on her wrist, she appears tattoo free. When she goes out…Well, it’s hard to keep track of her ink because her outfits reveal almost all of it. Not all tattoo fanatics are wild. I’m definitely not. Holly most definitely is, even with a boyfriend she plans to marry. She’s impatiently waiting for a massive rock to put on her finger.
While we wait for the band to come on, the guy next to us at the bar is checking out the huge butterfly that looks like it’s about to fly off her back. She likes backless clothes. There’s not usually much to the front either. So when she turns around with a drink in each hand, the guy isn’t checking out the pretty swirls circling her belly button. Or the ladybugs—the only tats I didn’t do—along one side of her ribs. He’s not even checking out the scrolling words across the top of her chest. Because his eyes are glued to her cleavage. She’s had work on that too, and in her own words, “ain’t too proud to admit it.” Though we’re both in jeans, she has heels on. I’m wearing my knee-high calf-hugging boots. And except for the dress I wore the other night, the sexiest top I have is a tight white tank with a bit of lace at the edges, which is what I’m rocking for the show.
Holly hands me a mojito. “It’s about high time you had a good time, so I buy and you drink.”
I take a sip. “Slow down, chica. About three of these and I’ll be passed out.”
She lifts her own mojito. “Lightweight excuses aren’t going to fly tonight.” She wiggles her ass on my thigh. “We gots to get our krunk on before the band comes on.”
My eyes can’t help a roll while the guy next to us drools at her rubbing against my leg.
While declining several offers from guys who want to buy us drinks, we split another mojito, then order two beers and head out into the crowd in front of the stage. Holly uses a combination of “excuse me” and her tits to get us about fifteen feet from the stage. To get us any closer, she’d have to show more than cleavage. I don’t push the issue because she probably would. Holly is not exactly shy.
We sip our beers, bounce to the blaring music, and wait for the band to come on. If the crowd here is any indication, Luminescent Juliet is a lot more popular than Justin led me to believe. I haven’t told Holly anything about Justin except that I’ve inked him. But somehow, perhaps because I asked her to come, she’s already rooting for me to hook up with him. Or at least with one of the band members. Not sure what’s with everyone trying to get me laid. Okay, it’s possible I’m a bit uptight. But sex isn’t going to fix that. I’m not even sure it’s fixable. I’m planning to stick to my plan. Which is to watch the band, say hello to Justin, and get the heck home.
Holly has started flirting with the guys next to us when the lights dim and the dance music dies. The empty stage lights up, then darkens, causing the crowd to cheer. A smoky blue spotlight follows the guitar player as he walks to the edge of the stage, strumming softly. Another light shines behind Justin, standing in front of the microphone. The outline of his body hints at his masculine beauty and has me, and probably half the crowd, wishing another light would flick on to show him fully. He begins to sing softly, a few lines about keeping in the dark, then suddenly loud drums join in and the guitar escalates. Justin’s voice grows loud and angry, matching the growing volume of the guitar.
“Oh, I love this song!” Holly shouts in my ear.
“What is it?” I shout back.
“Foo Fighters! ‘Pretender’!” she yells, bouncing to the music.
Everyone’s moving and bobbing their heads to the beat. We’re crushed into the mass. I’m shoulder to shoulder with not only Holly but also the girl next to me.
I drain half my beer and let my buzz coax me into the crowd’s enthusiasm. The band sounds good. I’m guessing Justin sounds good, but it’s hard to tell. I’ve never understood shouting songs. But holding the microphone and standing in a wide stance with a boot on the edge of the stage, Justin looks as rocker hot as his silhouette in shadow promised. He’s in an unbuttoned white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his tattoos and muscular chest add to the display. I’ve never had as harsh of an opinion of tribal art as Todd, but I’m starting to like it.
During the guitar solo, Justin steps to the side and shuffles the microphone stand between his hands. Then he comes back, sets one boot on the edge of the stage, and goes back to shouting, coming across as commanding and sexy.
The song ends. Holly turns to me with a dazzled gaze. “They’re freakin’ good. And they’re all hot.” She takes a gulp of beer. “Which one do you like again?”
My gaze throws darts at her.
She chuckles.
“Everyone feeling good tonight?” Justin shouts into the microphone, and the crowd shouts back. “Then you must be ready for some Artic Monkeys!”
The crowd roars back again as the song starts with a rolling guitar riff, then the drums kick in, and Justin starts singing.
Once again, I don’t know the song, but with this second one it’s evident that Justin can sing, not just shout. Actually, he’s quite good, his voice sounds low and sexy. Before I can ask, Holly shows me a picture of the original single on her iPhone while she dances. The title ‘R U Mine?’ sends a shiver down my spine, because when Justin sings it, it feels like he’s asking me the question.
Obviously, the alcohol already has me stupid.
Holly and I dance next to each other while we watch. Well, I mostly watch Justin, but yeah, Holly is right. The guitar player is darkly hot in a button-up but open shirt. His dark hair has this way of falling over one eye that is sexy. The bassist is super cute as he keeps winking at girls in the front, nodding his dark buzzed head, and bouncing to the rhythm. He’s dressed in a sleeveless T, and his muscular arms almost dwarf the bass guitar he plays. The drummer is lean, muscled, and graceful in a black tank top and long black shorts. His shoulder-length hair whips around him, but in between drumbeats, when his hair flies back, his lean angular face looks intense.