On Solid Ground: Sequel to in Too Deep (12 page)

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Authors: Michelle Kemper Brownlow

BOOK: On Solid Ground: Sequel to in Too Deep
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“You look like you need at least two beers, Jake. I’ll run to the office later and get your paperwork. You’re still coming in on Wednesday night, right?”

“Absolutely. I need the money.” I poured half of the first beer down my throat and tapped the bar with my thumbs. The place was dead. Quiet. I wondered what Becki and Gracie were up to. I reached for my phone out of habit then decided not to text her. I was going to love her by giving her the space she needed.

I could hear music coming from the basement, but it wasn’t the typical Saturday night sound. I looked at my phone and realized it was still early enough to be the band warming up for their gig in a couple hours. I took a couple more swigs of my beer and tried to place the song someone was playing. It sounded almost like an acoustic version of “Hunger Strike” by Temple of the Dog. I got up and walked over to the top of the stairs that led to the basement bar.

“She’s good.” Buzz nodded toward the stairs as he dried some glasses and put them on a shelf under the bar.

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know. A couple girls came in, had a few beers then disappeared, but they paid their bill, so I didn’t think anything of it. Then the band came in to set up and one of the guys mentioned the girl playing the guitar I keep behind the downstairs bar. I took a peek, and, dammit, it was those same two girls down there.”

“You kick ‘em out?”

“Nah. Told her if she played me a song, I wouldn’t call the cops. Of course, I was just kidding about the cops. She’s no rock star, ya know, all shy and all. But her voice could take your breath away.”

I nodded, threw back the last of my first beer and walked back over to the stool I’d claimed.

“One of those nights, huh?”

“Yeah. You could say that.” I took a swig of the fresh bottle and Buzz set a third one up on the bar.

“Hey, two of my favorite trainees keeping me company at the bar tonight. You two tryin’ to butter me up?”

I spun on my stool as Maverick took a seat next to me. I chuckled and shook my head. “You’re working here, too?”

“Damn straight. You know how easy it is to get chicks when you’re pouring them drinks?” He grabbed the beer Buzz just set down and clinked it against mine. “Buzz, you better start a tab.” He slapped his credit card down on the bar. Buzz smiled and took it.

I had never been upstairs at
Mitchell’s
on a Saturday night. It was virtually empty when there was a band downstairs. Maverick and I shot the shit for a while, each beer going down smoother than the last.

“You moving back to Wyoming after graduation?”

“Mav, I have no idea what I’m doing. You?”

“ROTC, man. I hope to be on the Navy base in Virginia Beach. Sun, sand, bikinis.”

“Good deal. I’d love to start my own business, but not sure what.” I wiped the water ring off the bar with a cocktail napkin.

“I used to picture you, me, and Sam opening a bar and staying here.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea. And if we don’t fail out of the bartending class, it remains a possibility.”

“Well, if the two of you don’t get that paperwork filled out there’s no chance you’re working here after graduation.” Buzz was gruff and impatient sometimes. It made me wonder how long he’d been working at
Mitchell’s
.

When Maverick and I finished filling out our trainee paperwork, the beats from the basement were resonating up through our stools.

“You wanna head down to see the band?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in all the chaos, but I needed to do something other than sit at the bar and drink.

“Sure. Pound it.” Maverick motioned toward the two fresh bottles in front of us. I was a little more than buzzed already, but I pounded it anyway. We closed out our tab and headed down toward the music.

The basement was dingy and had a low ceiling. The room wasn’t very big at all, and I wasn’t sure what its legal capacity was, but I was certain they pushed that limit every time a band played.

“Shit.” Standing at the mic and reaching out for the girls in front of him was Calon.

“What?” Maverick and I navigated through the crowd. I just shook my head.

We sidled up to the bar, and less than a minute later, I had another beer in my hand. I scoped the room to see if there was anyone else we knew crammed into the bar. I saw a couple girls from my classes, one of them winked and waved. I winked back and tipped my beer bottle like a long distant cheers. There was a feeling buzzing in me I couldn’t quite decipher. It was a cross between nervousness and anticipation. It was then I realized how long it had been since I was drunk without Gracie. The pretty girl who waved had given me a hint of what it would feel like to be single. I didn’t consider myself single, but there was an unsettled curiosity in the pit of my stomach that made me a bit uncomfortable.

Before long, Maverick had grabbed the attention of more than a couple girls. This was nothing new. He had an air about him that was like a magnet. It was fascinating. I smiled and shook my head as I watched him entertain them. I had no idea what he was telling them, but they flipped their hair and giggled at the end of each sentence. Maverick was tall and his blond hair was shaved high and tight, which was recognizable to most people on campus because all the ROTC guys had the same cut. Girls melted for that.

“You wanna dance, Jake?” I felt her hand on my arm before I heard her voice. The stunning blonde that winked earlier was standing so close to me, I could smell her gum. I felt bad because she knew my name and I had no idea what hers was. Just then, someone hurried past her, pushing her into me. The cup in her hand crushed, and the last sip of her beer spilled out onto my chest. She made an exaggerated frown and mouthed her apology. She may have actually said it out loud, but Calon was belting something about a short skirt and a long jacket so I couldn’t hear much of anything. We held a stare for more than a couple seconds. Her deep brown eyes and pouty lips had me distracted. She was tiny, and the way she looked up at me and bit her bottom lip was freakin’ hot.

“Come on!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the crowd. I slammed the last of my beer and set it on a table as we breezed past it. I looked back at Maverick, who gave me the thumbs up. I just shook my head and shrugged.

Alternate Tragedy had changed up their set list since I’d seen them last. They typically played classic stuff, rock and alternative, but Calon’s voice took on an Adam Levine tone, and he flirted with the rows of horny co-eds begging them for one more night. Every time he sang the word “hard”, they’d all groan. I took a deep breath and made the decision to just relax and have fun.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.” I leaned in and cupped my hand at her ear so I didn’t have to yell. She took that as an invitation for touching.
Oh God.
She tucked one finger in my belt loop and her other hand flew up over her head as she sang the words and swiveled her hips from side to side dangerously close to me.

“Chelsea.” She winked again.

I stepped back a bit to spread the space between us and mouthed, “Nice to meet you.”

She smiled and continued the hip thing as the song played. I looked around, for what, I don’t know. I could dance; it wasn’t something I ever had to think about, but dancing that close to Chelsea had me wondering how to dance without trying to match her sultry style. Gracie and I always danced sexy, but I didn’t want to give Chelsea the wrong idea. At the same time, I didn’t want to look like a junior high dork and just rock back and forth on my feet while she writhed all around me.

“I have a question for all of you...” Calon’s voice called out as the instrumental part of the song ended. “Whose sex is on fire?”

The place erupted into squeals and screams from what sounded like four thousand pre-orgasmic women. The guitar and drums started the song; I knew it, Kings of Leon. The beat was intense, which added to the sex feel of the song. I thought the drummer would smash his sticks through his drums. Chelsea spun around then backed up into me, one hand on each of my thighs, and held me tight against her.
Shit.

I took a deep breath and decided to just go with it. I closed my eyes and let go. My hands went to her hips and my thumbs unintentionally brushed her skin at the bottom of her cropped top. Her head leaned back against my chest. I was drunk, the lights were dim, and we were starting to sweat. It was hot. I matched the rolling of her hips with mine and squeezed her sides a little. I couldn’t remember the last girl I danced with that wasn’t Jessica or Gracie. There is a certain amount of excitement that courses through a guy when he skips the niceties of chit-chat and just jumps into a sexy scene like the one that was playing out between Chelsea and me. It felt good. I wasn’t going to deny myself. I had boundaries, and it wasn’t like I was going to take her home.

Okay. Stop analyzing everything and just dance, idiot.

The songs changed a couple times, and Chelsea continued to dance around me, brushing her hands across my chest as she passed in front of me. My hands were either on her back or her hips as we absorbed the music. She reached up and ran her fingers through the back of my hair as the song changed to something slow. Our bodies were wet. Sweat soaked through my black t-shirt and my knee was throbbing. I needed to sit for a while, but Chelsea wanted to dance closer. Her hands dropped onto my shoulders, and I clasped my hands around her tiny waist. She looked up at me, and I noticed again how brown her eyes were. They were so dark, I couldn’t see her pupils, which could have been her alcohol consumption mixed with the dark room, but once again, they captured me for longer than a couple seconds.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you?”

That question slapped me back to reality. I was no longer aware of the the heat of the room or the sweat drenching the waist band of my cargo shorts. Her pouty lips and just the way she danced made it perfectly clear she could probably lay one hell of a hot kiss on me if I let her. But that wasn’t happening.

“Sorry, Chelsea, I have a girlfriend.” I smiled sweetly and unlaced her arms from around my neck. “Do you want a beer? I need another.”

She pushed out her bottom lip and shook her head. “No, thanks. But you can do something else for me.”

I was afraid to ask, but it would have been rude to just walk away. “What’s that?”

“If your girlfriend ever lets you go, look me up, okay?”

I smiled and nodded. She stood up on her toes and kissed me gently on my cheek. I walked back over to the bar just as Maverick stuck his tongue down some girl’s throat. She didn’t seem to object.

“Dude, I’m out. My knee is killin’ me.”

He nodded. “Jake, can you spot me? I got nothing in my wallet.”

I knew he wasn’t talking about money. I discreetly pulled a condom from my wallet and pulled him in for a guy hug and tucked it in the pocket of his t-shirt.

“Have a good one.” I waved over my head and didn’t wait around for some unfiltered smartass comment I knew would fall out of his mouth.

Seventeen

Gracie

Becki and I walked, and stumbled a little, across campus after our long day together. It was so peaceful on campus in the wee hours of the morning. And so eerily dark. It was nice to just hang with her all day. Our lunch date had been at Litton’s instead of the dining hall and lasted for hours, but that was two Saturdays in a row we’d held true to our pact.

“I haven’t shopped like that in probably a year.” A couple hours prior, Becki helped me into my apartment with my mounds of bags. Then we parked her car in the student lot and lugged her bags to her dorm. We’d hung out there for a while, doing shots while we talked about me, Noah, and my issues. I couldn’t wait until there was nothing left to talk about and all the Noah shit was done...over...dead. That day couldn’t come soon enough.

“Are you kidding? When I’m home, I do it every weekend.” Becki had a great aunt that had left her a ton of money when she died. I wasn’t sure how much, but every now and then, her parents would give her a chunk of it, and she’d spread it out over a couple months and fill her closets with beautiful stuff. We were close enough to the same size that, sometimes, I benefited from Aunt Jane’s early demise.

“So, we are still going to see Calon on Friday, right?” She said his name in a funny way, reminding me of her plan to have him escort her home.

“Of course.” I giggled and mimicked her drawn out voice when I answered. “Oh my word, Becki! I totally forgot to tell you!” My voice was louder than usual, and she flinched a little. “I ended up telling Jake about the night I met Calon, and he was pissed.”

“Holy shit! I totally forgot you had sex with him! Dammit, you already know all the juicy stuff I would want to tell you when he and I have sex.”

“Um, apparently your sex-soaked brain amped up my story a little bit. I didn’t sleep with Calon. We just kissed.”

She squealed, grabbed my hands, and skipped in a circle, spinning me a little faster than I was ready for. “Yay. Please let me tell you all the details. Please. Please. Can you imagine how fucking hot he is in bed? Oh my dammit! I’m gonna come just thinking about it.”

“Becki!” It never failed; she could still shock me with what came out of her mouth. Alcohol helped, and we both probably should have stopped a couple shots before we had.

“Wait! Why was Jake pissed? He doesn’t seem like the jealous type.”

“He saw Calon and me talking. I ran into him at The Garage on Tuesday, and he actually remembered me. But then he got all intense and mysterious and that’s the part Jake saw.”

“Intense and mysterious. Oh, Gracie. Please tell me he’s a good kisser.”

“Becki.” I raised my eyebrow at her. There was no way you could ooze sex like Calon and not be good at...everything.

“Shit! I need to work off this pent up sexual energy. Let’s do something impulsive.”

“Oh, Becki. We need to stop drinking. You’re going to get us arrested.”

“No, no one will call the cops. Let’s pretend
we
are hot rock stars!” She grabbed my hand and took off.

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I knew I’d never be able to breathe through a conversation and jog behind her after half a dozen Goldschlager shots. My balance was off, but by the time she slowed to a stop and dropped my hand, I felt a little less dizzy and not so sloppy drunk.

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