GRIND (The Silver Nitrate Series Book 1) (20 page)

“Do you enjoy it? Welding?”

“I like it a lot. Some people don’t believe that, but I do. We just finished work on the Bayonne Bridge.” She looked down at his hands, noticing a few small cuts and areas that appeared to be a bit rougher than others…

Works with his hands a hell of a lot. That’s good…real good.

“And as you obviously know, I’m a drummer, too.” He jail-broke her salacious thoughts, getting her back on task. “It pays a little bit, but I do it mostly because I love it. Great stress reliever, too. I like it more than welding, but welding pays the bills.” He shrugged. “I’ve been doing it for a long time… it’s in my blood. It’s like gettin’ up and taking a shower, brushing your teeth, you know? I don’t think about it, I just do it. It’s second nature, and has to be done. I couldn’t imagine not playing music, though. I think I’d feel lost.”

“You’re really good at it, too. I mean that.”

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You’re actually one of the best drummers I’ve ever heard, Zenith, and I’m serious. I also don’t give compliments like that often,” she clarified, wanting him to understand just how moved she’d been by his solo.

“I believe that.” He took another swig from his bottle. “What type of music do you listen to? What bands?”

“All kinds. I listen to
every
thing. You can find me blasting Kendrick Lamar all the way to Iron Maiden.”

“Silver, let’s go get married. We can fly out to Vegas tomorrow night.” He spoke so seriously, though his eyes were filled with sarcastic mirth. She couldn’t help but laugh at the man.

“You’ve done it again, switched this back to me. Tell me about your family. They’re from Syracuse, right?”

Zenith’s body language seemed to stiffen ever so slightly, but the gesture was so fleeting; maybe she’d imagined it.

“Yeah, they’re from Syracuse. Right now, my grandfather lives with me.”

“Oh shit… here we go.” She grimaced.

This mothafucka ain’t got no damn place to live! I knew this was too good to be true. These mothafuckas always sit around talking about they mama living with them, knowing damn well their name ain’t on a lease or mortgage and never has been!

She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and simply glared at him.

“What do you mean here we go?!” He threw up his hands and laughed. “He
does
! He was in a nursing home and I took him out. It’s true.”

She sat there for a moment, looking at him.

“You might be telling the truth.” She chuckled and sampled more of her drink. “How long does it take to take an order?” She looked around angrily as she felt her tummy rumble.

“I know, right? I was wondering the same thing. They are packed in here tonight, though. I’m hungry as hell. You might have to let me nibble on your neck a little until they can come over and take care of us.”

“Are you a vampire now?”

“If that’s what you’re into, I can pretend to be.” He stared at her mouth. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

She got ready to play make believe, to tell him he wasn’t all that, and all the slick, sexual innuendos he was throwing her way didn’t mean shit to her… but it would’ve been a damn lie. He sat across from her with that black leather jacket on, hair the color of midnight blue flowing in soft waves down his shoulders, and a strong facial structure that looked like it was chiseled out of granite. She had no idea what lay under those clothes, but from the way he’d pressed against her ever so slightly to help her out of her coat when they’d entered, she was certain several boulders had been used by the hands of God to craft the man.

“Well? I do, don’t I? You don’t even want to admit it.”

“Do you make me uncomfortable? No, not in the least,” she lied.

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, but I bet you’re used to men flirting with you but not walking the walk, right? Just talkin’ a bunch of bullshit. You’re the ice queen, like I told you. Nobody as beautiful as you, with the way you are, gets like that without some shit happening that shouldn’t have. Somebody fucked you over.”

She quickly turned away.

“We all get fucked over, though. I don’t want this first date to get too heavy, the conversation too much. So let me tell you what I want to order on your menu.”

“I’m not food.” She grinned.

“But you
could
be…”

She looked away, refusing eye contact with the sexy man.

“And just because it would be ordered fast, doesn’t mean—”

“I’m not fast food.” She cut him off.

“Don’t matter to me if you’re McDonalds or Kuruma Zushi…doesn’t mean you wouldn’t be enjoyed, appreciated, and savored until I got to the last damn drop.” He drummed the table, matching her tempo. Their fingers tapped and tapped to a mutual beat, marrying the rhythm.

“I want to get to know you… to know what you feel like, on the
inside
…”

…Oh God.

“Want to be your friend, play video games with you early in the morning while eating cold cereal and show you how to play the drums late at night so we can wake the neighbors and explain it to the cops. I want you to sit on my lap and tell me your secrets…like why you’re so fucking mean, yet so sweet and try to hide it?”

She hated herself for smiling.

“It’s our first date, and I
know
already I’ve never met anyone like you in this whole world… and I’ve met a lot of women.”

“That’s nothing to brag about.”

“I’m not bragging. I’m telling you I’ve met a lot of women, dated a lot of women, fucked a lot of women and had some serious relationships, too… I’ve loved, I’ve hated, I’ve not cared, I’ve cared too much. I’ve never seen, talked to, or been around anyone like you in my whole damn life. From our first conversation, to the three long phone calls before this date, to right here and now… I can just feel it.
Every
thing about you is out of the norm. You’re different. You intrigue the fuck outta me.” His chest rose and fell real damn slow, as if he were barely breathing. He was unnervingly calm…

So.

Damn.

Cool.

“I actually don’t think that, uh, I don’t think that—”

And then, a waitress came up to them, a huge smile on her face and a greeting that broke through the clattering noise of the place.

“Hi! Sorry for the wait. Can I start you two out with an appetizer?”

Inside, she exhaled and prayed to Heaven, thankful for the out. She didn’t have to front, to put on a show. Tonight must’ve been her lucky day…

“I know what I want to eat, actually,” she said.

“Of course. What can I get you?”

“I’d like to get the quarter chicken and—”

“Quarter?” the man interrupted. “Why not just get the entire thing?”

“Because it’s too late to be trying to eat that heavy!”

“Get her the half chicken.” He looked earnestly at the waitress.

“I don’t want the half chicken! I don’t want the whole chicken! I want the 1/4
^th
chicken!”

“Who are you trying to impress? Eating like some damn bird. This is a barbecue place,” he chastised, as if she’d suddenly become deaf and blind and lost focus of her surroundings. “Get her the half chicken,” he repeated, clasping his hands.

“I can’t believe this…” She shook her head. “Okay, and with that, I’d like the smothered turkey neck collard greens, the—”

“Goble! Goble!”

She paused, looked at the man and stifled a burst of laughter.

“…the tomato cucumber salad.”

“You had to do it, didn’t you? You couldn’t just be a pig, get your grub on. No, you had to do that silly lady shit women do… order something you don’t really want to not seem so greedy. Look, get ’er some beans and rice instead of that salad.”

“No you don’t.” She pointed sternly at the waitress. “Keep it just as it is.”

“Okay, whatever, but don’t ask for any of mine or sit over there admiring my plate, undressing it with your eyes. Let me get the full rack of ribs, peel and eat shrimp, and—”

“For one?”

“Yeah, for one. Let me also get three of the Creole devilled eggs, the bar-b-que beans, and collard greens.”

“Alright, got it!”

“You really just ordered all of that?!” Silver grimaced. “Zenith, that’s disgusting. That sounds like a grocery list, not a menu for one dinner. You’re going to be
so
sick later on.”

“Look, I work hard, okay? I build up an appetite. Besides, I eat like this all the time!”

She shook her head in revulsion, but was slightly amused all the same.

“I’ll get you both refills on your drinks.” The waitress reached for their menus and walked away.

“You like me, don’t you?”

At that moment, she hated his tilted, cocky smile.

“You’re alright.” She smirked.

“Ice Princess likes me… Yeah, she does.” He winked at her and lounged in his seat.

Their conversation continued—slow, easy, like a roller coaster about to take flight. She found herself wrapped tight around his every utterance, hanging onto the details of his tales of different shows he’d played, funny fables of various clubs and the interesting people that crossed his path. He handled conversation with a smooth grip, just like his drumsticks, and his delivery was in tune. The man was entertaining without being presumptuous, and she loved the slight hoarseness of his voice, and the way he said, ‘fuck.’

Their food came out, and his platter reminded her of a mountain of plates collected at some all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. She delighted in her meal, but stole glances at his devilled eggs a time or two…

As if on cue, he snatched one off his plate, leaned across the table and brought the damn thing towards her mouth.

“Eat it.”

“I—”

“You keep lookin’ at it like it owes you money. Eat it. It’s good.”

She slowly opened her mouth, and he delivered the mouth-watering thing slowly, tenderly, lovingly… She swirled the soft egg over her tastebuds, the yolky, sweet and spicy cream giving her tongue such delight. She twitched internally when she noticed he was watching her chew. His gaze was so intense, so focused, as if he were waiting for a much needed kind word. The meal continued, with the conversation running the gamut from work, to her friends, to her insane brother who refused to leave Mama’s house, to her love of simply being… her.

Zenith looked at her as if she were the sun, the moon, and everything in between. As if he’d known her for a million lifetimes, and a million and one still wouldn’t have been enough to quench his thirst. He looked at her like he wanted to screw her, but to know her, too…

Maybe I’m just being an idiot because I think he is sexy as hell…

What she did know for certain was that his hand was skirting away from his empty plate and landing atop of hers… He held her gaze and massaged her fingers delicately, eating her up like the chicken she’d just devoured. He was funny, a bit uncouth, and something about him screamed ‘authentic’.

“Let me ask you something?” She slid her hand away from his and dabbed at her lips, removing a smidgen of sticky barbecue sauce.

“Yeah?”

“You’re Native Indian right? Or at least you appear to be.”

“Yeah, Native American, Indian.” He shrugged. “Either one is fine with me, actually. I don’t get too bent out of shape about it.”

She nodded. “What type?”

“I’m Iroquois, Seneca Nation. My parents were Mohawk.”

“That’s so interesting. I remember being in grade school, not realizing that Iroquois described more than one tribe. I didn’t find that out until I was practically grown. I’d like to know more about that. Native Indians, your culture, has been of interest to me lately. Actually It’s ironic that we met, for that alone.”

“Really? What sparked it? Your curiosity I mean.” He grabbed his half full glass of water and took a hearty gulp.

“Jewelry, believe it or not. I was in a store and saw this necklace that was so pretty. I’m not really into jewelry, but this really drew my attention for some reason. I asked the shop owner about it and she said it was an Iroquois necklace made by the women in the Six Nations Reservation.”

“That’s in Ontario, Canada.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “That’s right. That’s what she said. Anyway, it really called to me, you know? Sounds silly, right?”

“Nah, not at all.” He twirled a toothpick around in his mouth, picking at a piece of wedged meat no doubt from his gluttonous feast. “If you felt drawn to it, it means you were meant to have it… kind of like dating. You just have to do it, and if it’s meant to be more, then it
will
be.”

She lifted her head a bit higher as they glared at one another.

“A lot of that stuff is made out of leather, deerskin, buffalo horns, hair pipes, things like that. In my family, we have those sorts of things in the house somewhere. Most of it belonged to my grandparents. But to my grandfather, my Paw especially, all of that is important. So, did you buy it?”

“Nah.” She shook her head. “It was a little expensive. But maybe I’ll go back and get it.”

“You have a nice neck.”

“That’s a strange compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“It’s not really strange. At least, I don’t think so. You brought up the necklace so it made me look at you a bit closer. I notice things like that though, anyway.”

“You notice necks?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah. I like to kiss. And what I’ll do is take one hand, and grasp your neck—”

She swallowed.

“Bring you closer, kiss the top of your head, tilt your chin up, kiss your forehead, the tip of your nose, your lips, then leave your neck for last. It’s an intimate spot. The neck connects the head, the brain, directly with your spinal cord. A woman’s neck is like her highway to the Creator…”

“I have no idea whether to applaud you for your work in attempted panty removal or say that’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.” She laughed. But he didn’t…

“It’s not silly… Don’t say that.” He looked vexed, perturbed… pissed. “It’s true. It’s part of my personal beliefs. Women are closer to God than men, because you have wombs; you can create. We can’t, at least not in that same way, so I try to give birth to music, and make metal bend and melt. I need wood; I need nature in my hands. A woman is a vessel; men want to experience that, too. I try to control what people hear. Makes sense, right? If you can control one of the five senses among crowds of people, make them want it, it gives you a natural high. Because we all want to be like the Creator in some way, don’t we?”