Fear of Falling (5 page)

He looked to Mick and nodded, snapping me out of my trance. “I’ll take care of her.” Then he took a step forward and grabbed my hand.

He grabbed my hand!
And I yelped like a freakin’ puppy.

We both sputtered apologies at my outburst, and my face reddened instantly. Damn Asian flush. Not wanting to make me any more uncomfortable, Blaine tentatively placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me to the other side of the bar just as Angel approached and took a seat. I know my wide-eyed expression at his contact was evident to her.

“Good to see you again, Blaine!” she beamed, cutting her eyes at me.

He smiled warmly, one side of his mouth curled up farther than the other. “You too, Angel.” He then turned his head to me, placing his palms against the bar and leaning forward a bit, regarding me intently. “Ready?”

My eyes narrowed in confusion. “Ready for what?”

“Your audition,” he said, with that amused, trying-not-to-laugh look on his face. It was infuriating and adorable all at once.

I nodded stiffly and pursed my lips, frustrated with my betraying emotions. After washing my hands, I turned to him and waited for his first order. He was staring at me. Not just casually gazing, he was staring at me like he was appraising a rare piece of artwork. It was odd and intense, and that damn flush crept back up my neck and painted my cheeks.

Finally, he turned his body and pressed his backside against the bar, casually crossing his ankles, his head turned towards mine. He was close—very close. Close enough for me to get a whiff of his scent and feel the warmth of his body.

Standing side by side, I could tell Blaine was tall. He had to be at least six inches taller than my 5 ft. 6 in. frame. I liked tall men. I liked the way they could fold their bodies around mine and make me feel safe and secure, even just for a night. My mind began to drift to images of Blaine’s arms around me, those big hands sliding across hips, around my ass, up my bare back…

“It’s good to see you again, roadrunner,” he muttered for my ears only. It was enough to startle me from my insane daydream. Just as well. It would never, ever come to fruition.

I glanced at Angel, engaged in a conversation with Mick, then turned my head back to him and raised a brow. “Roadrunner?”

Blaine’s mouth twisted again, giving me another peek at that metallic barbell. He wasn’t doing it to be seductive. At least I didn’t think he was. It seemed more out of habit than anything else. “Yeah. The way you ran outta here last time, you would’ve thought a 50-ton anvil was about to come crashing down on you.”

“Is that right?” I smirked playfully. I couldn’t help flirting with him. It was harmless, after all. “So what does that make you? Wile E. Coyote?”

A question knit his brows. “Why would you think that? You think I’m chasing you?”

My eyes widened with embarrassment. “Oh, no, I wasn’t saying…”

“Because I’m not chasing you,” he cut me off. “Not yet, at least.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was confused by his behavior, unsure if he was attracted to me…or not. Not that he should be. I just liked knowing where I stood.

“Oh,” was all I could manage.

Blaine grinned crookedly, his warm chocolate eyes heating into a smolder. “Screaming orgasm.”

“Huh…what?” I juggled the glass in my hand, almost dropping it.

He chuckled, and I had to admit, it was a fascinating sound. Husky and sexy. He ran a hand through his perfectly unruly hair. “I want a Screaming Orgasm. You do know what those are, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” I mumbled, assembling the cocktail. Yeah, I knew what they were from prior bartending jobs, but unfortunately I had only experienced them in drink form.

Once the shot was perfectly garnished, despite my slightly shaky hands, I slid the drink over to him. It wasn’t far since he had made it a point to only leave a few inches between us.

Blaine took the tall shot in his hands, appraising it thoroughly, then brought the glass to his mouth and took a small sip, licking his lips afterwards. It gave me full view of that tongue ring, and I felt I could die happy right then and there.

“Mmmm,” he groaned lightly. I had to suck my lips in to stifle my own reaction. He turned to me and held up the glass just inches from my face. “Taste it,” he breathed, the words audible only to me. Before I could take the shot glass from him, he was pressing it to my lips gently, his gaze predatory. As my lips parted, so did his, as if he was guiding the movement. He tilted it back, the sweet-strong mix of vodka and creamy liquor trickling down my throat and warming my chest.

“You like it?” he asked just above a whisper as he brought the glass down, his eyes never leaving mine.

I licked my lips slowly, probably too slow to be considered totally innocent. “Yes.”

“I like it too.” Blaine’s eyes drifted down to my lips and he began running the top row of his teeth along his bottom lip as if he was contemplating whether or not to kiss me. His breathing was just as labored and heavy as mine, anticipation flowing through our veins. This was bad. Very, very bad.

Angel’s jingling laughter ringing throughout the bar doused the heated moment like ice water. We jerked apart and looked sheepishly towards her and Mick as if we had been caught red-handed. Nothing had happened, but for some reason I felt guilty and a little exhilarated. No…a lot exhilarated.

Blaine grabbed the blank application from the bar and handed it to me. “So, um, just fill that out, and someone should give you a call,” he mumbled without looking at me. Then, without further explanation, he turned and disappeared through a door a few feet away.

Mick frowned at Blaine’s retreating back, and the guilt crept back in, making the exhilaration I felt just moments ago go up in a puff of smoke. Of course, he must’ve seen our flirting. Assuming he was the boss, he surely wouldn’t want his bartender canoodling with a potential employee.

I filled out the form, although I didn’t have high hopes of getting the position. I knew that it was definitely for the best. I had vowed to never get involved with a coworker again, and a part of me, a part mostly comprised of hormones, was already very much involved with Blaine.

I chalked up that whole experience as being the last time I would see the scary-beautiful bartender. And that thought bothered me more than it should.

We were just sitting down to eat takeout sushi when our home phone rang. It was odd since hardly anyone called the house. Usually it was reserved for random parental calls which none of us received more than once or twice a month. Angel rolled her eyes and went to grab it, figuring she was due for a judgment-laced talk from Mr. and Mrs. Cassidy. I shot her a sympathetic look when she answered. However, when she paused after her greeting, her brows shot up with excitement—a reaction that would definitely not accompany a call from her parents.

“Guess what, losers?” she giggled, after hanging up with the mystery caller and rejoining us on the couch. “AngelDust just got invited for an exclusive audition at Dive! I guess a ton of other acts were inquiring about the steady weekend slot, so they’re holding live tryouts this Friday. Only two other bands were invited!”

“Oh wow! That’s great, Angel!” I beamed, dropping my chopsticks and giving her a hug. “So, um, that was, um, Blaine or…”

“Oh no, that wasn’t your badass, boy-toy bartender. That was Mick. I’m guessing he runs the place and wanted to invite us personally.”

I fought the frown creeping onto my face. “So…he didn’t want to speak with me? About the job?”

“Oh shit, Kam! I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask!” She squeezed my arm in apology before grabbing a tray of edamame. “I’m sure he’ll get around to calling you.”

I nodded, hoping she was right. It had been three days since I applied and, with each passing day, I grew more restless. I knew it was stupid to feel so anxious; I had pretty much written off any opportunity at Dive after my careless flirting with Blaine. Still, I couldn’t deny the fact that I hadn’t stopped thinking of him.

The reality was, I wasn’t the type to act recklessly. I wasn’t impulsive or spontaneous, and I was cautious to a fault.
To the point of insanity
. I couldn’t risk a wrong turn. I couldn’t do anything to bring undue attention to myself. And to blatantly pursue a guy like Blaine could be dangerous to me and my already delicate rationality.

We had just finished our sushi feast and were sitting cross-legged on the carpet, watching Modern Family when I heard my cell phone ringing a couple feet away. Dom reached over and grabbed it for me while I lounged on the floor, my head nestled in his lap. This was the norm for us. Affection between the three of us was effortless, yet next to impossible with anyone outside our circle.

“Hello?” I answered, chuckling into the phone, my eyes still glued to the screen.

“Hi,” replied a voice dripping with sensuality.

I shot up like someone had lit a match under my ass, smacking Dom in the face in the process. “Hi,” I squeaked.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” His voice was deep, and slightly raspy with just a touch of southern drawl. Just as I had remembered.

“You’re not.” Ok, I said that way too fast. I scrambled to my feet, mouthing a half-hearted apology, and dashed to my room, earning more than a few sideways glances from my roommates.

“I wanted to tell you that you got the job. If you want it.”

“Oh?” There was more than just a trace of surprise in my voice. “Really? Um, wow.”

“You sound shocked.”

“I…I am. I didn’t think… I mean, I only made one drink for you.”

“It was a really good drink,” he replied with a sexy seriousness that made my tummy quiver.

I swallowed the whimper in my throat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So…do you want it?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” I had to wonder if we were still talking about the bartending position.

“Good.” Blaine was quiet for a long beat, and I imagined him rolling that barbell between his full lips. I listened for the clink of metal against his teeth. “Can you start Wednesday afternoon? I’ll be training you. Is that ok?”

“Sounds good.” More than good. “Anything else I should know? What should I wear?”

“We’ve got t-shirts with Dive’s logo on it. I’ll give you a few. Anything for the bottom. Except, um, skirts.”

“Oh. Are skirts against the dress code policy?”

I heard him suck in a breath. “No. They are just very…distracting. On you. You distract me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Oh, hell. I was flirting. No, no, no. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Not when it came to him.

“Depends.”

“Depends?” I said in my best innocently naughty voice.

“If I distract you too.”

I didn’t know how to respond, and the growing silence was shifting from nervous to awkward. Of course he distracted me. He had distracted my thoughts ever since I walked into Dive teary-eyed and mournful three weeks ago. But there was no way I could tell him that.

“Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Kami.”

“Goodnight, Blaine.”

I held the phone to my chest after swiping the OFF button, then looked up to find a smirking Angel leaning against my doorframe. I was so busted.

“So, Kami, how have you been since our last visit?”

I nodded, fidgeting with a loose thread on my tank top. “Good.”

“Good? So no irrational fears or meltdowns?”

I frowned at the grey-clad psychiatrist sitting across from me. Good shrinks were so hard to find, and this was my third since moving to Charlotte. I felt like I could do without them, but Dom was insistent to the point of demanding.

“Why do my fears need to be irrational?” I snapped.

Dr. Evelyn Cole raised a brow and scribbled a note on her pad. “Do you think your fears are rational?”

“I think they’re understandable considering…I’m not saying they’re altogether healthy, but I don’t think they are irrational. I don’t put anyone in danger with them.”

Dr. Cole scribbled another note. “You don’t put yourself in danger?”

I looked at her incredulously. “Of course not. If anything, I am careful to a fault.”