Then Kiss Me (18 page)

“No shit.  I’d love to see your work sometime.”

“I’d love for you to see it.  I gave Carla one of my paintings, and I have a couple showing right now at the Main Street Art Gallery.
  Oh, I sold one too.”  I started feeling like a bug under a microscope. 
“But…what about you?
  I know about the band, but is there anything else?”

He looked serious.  “Does there need to be anything else?”

“Oh, no…I don’t think there has to be.  Do you guys have any big plans?”

“I was just happy playing whenever we had the chance, but Lee and Andrew want more.”  He took another swig of beer. 
“Thus, the demo.”

“
Ahhh
…but…are you okay if
it winds up going somewhere?”

He shrugged.  “Yeah, I think I’d be okay with it.”

The waiter brought our pizza and two plates.  “Can I get you anything else?”

I shook my head and Scott said, “No, we’re good.  Thanks.”  While Scott topped off our glasses, I put a slice of pizza on both our plates.  I didn’t have much of an appetite…not for
food, that
is. 
But I forced myself to eat just the same.  I managed to eat a slice and then Scott slid another on my plate.  I put up my hand to indicate I was good, but he said, “Oh, you’re
gonna
need your energy later.”

I laughed.  “All right then.  Bring it on.”

When the waiter brought the check, I don’t know what came over me, but I said, “Seriously, Scott, let me pay half.”

Oh, yeah.  That was a definite misstep.  He was
not
pleased that I’d asked again.  But his voice belied his eyes.  His words sounded calm and steady when he said, “No.  This was my idea.”

But he’d misunderstood.  I didn’t want him to think he had to buy my affection.  I already dug the shit out of him, and he didn’t have to buy me anything.  I didn’t want him to feel obligated.  I wanted whatever was happening between us to be free and easy.  So I touched his hand and said, “Really, Scott.  I don’t mind.  It’s not like we have the best jobs in the world, you know?”

“Casey, don’t be a fucking pain in the ass.  I make a lot more than you do, ‘
cause
I’ve been at Bob’s a long time.”  He sighed.  “Look…you can give me a cigarette outside and help me finish the beer, but
I’ll
pay.”

There was finality in his last sentence and so I knew I should drop it.  I nodded and decided to try to lift the mood.  “Since when do
you
smoke?”  I knew David did, but
you
?

“I do off and on.  Why are you acting freaked out?  You’ve seen me smoke before.  I used to smoke full-time but I quit a while back.  Watching you smoke makes me want one, though.”

I shrugged. 
“Fair enough.
  Then let’s get out of here.”  Scott placed some cash inside the money tray and then drank the rest of the beer in his glass.  He stood up and then offered his hand to me, helping me stand.

Once outside, we found an ashtray at the edge of the sidewalk, one of few
designated smoking areas on the block
.  I gave him the pack after I
lit
my cigarette and watched him take
one in his lips.  God, I could watch him do anything.  He caught my lusty stare and smiled, handing the pack back to me, and I shoved it in my purse.

I glanced over and noticed the tattoo peeking out from under
his sleeve.  “Oh, yeah,” I said
and lifted up his sleeve.  It was plain black script and it said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”  I said, “That’s a cool take on that quote.”

He grinned.  “Actually, that’s the
real
quote.”

I’d remembered something about those not remembering history being doomed to repeat it.  This was a new one on me. 
“Yeah?”

“Yeah.
  The guy’s name was George…
something
. 
Can’t remember his last name.
  He was a philosopher.”

“So why’d you have it inked on your arm?”

He grinned.  “
‘Cause
I’m one of those fucking idiots who forget and repeat the past.  So it’s kind of like a string around the finger, only a lot more permanent.”

“Not a bad idea, thou
gh.”  I hadn’t removed my hand from
his arm.  His skin was smooth but firm beneath my fingers, and the letters alone were art.  Yeah, I could try my hand at coming up with some tattoo art.  How cool would that be to have someone like Scott wearing
my
art permanently? 
God, that
idea made me hot.

So when I finally let his sleeve drop and looked up at him, I could tell it was pretty evident where my mind was going.  His lips were parted and his eyes dark
.  But he swallowed and said, “You about ready for some pool?”

I let the air out of my lungs.  Yeah, prolonging the need longer would make for an awesome night later.  Much as I wanted him, I could wait.  “Sure,” I said, crushing my cigarette into the tiny standing ashtray.  Twilight was descending and it was getting cool.  My jacket was in his truck, and I knew I’d need it when we left, but the air felt perfect right now.

Scott pointed directly in front of him.  There was a bar right next to the pizza place.  From where we stood, it looked pretty dark.  “There are pool tables in the back.”

“Can I lock my purse in your truck?”  I didn’t want to have to worry about the damned thing.

He let me put my purse in his truck and then he took my hand to guide me inside.

Oh…his hand.  That didn’t help my
desirous
state.  When we stepped inside, it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust.  The place was only half-full, but Scott led me to the back.  There were several pool tables back there and the lighting was brighter.  There were two guys in the corner playing pool, but the other tables were free.

“Let’s
get
some music
going first
.”  We walked over to the jukebox in the corner.  Scott had obviously used this machine before and started picking one song after another…some I knew and some I didn’t.  I was looking forward to hearing his choices, though.  Then he pulled up Lamb of God’s “Set to
Fail
,” a song I’d last heard when a
certain someone was making
me ridiculously hot prior to orgasm.  “This has become one of my new favorite songs,” he said and looked at me, winking.

Jesus…why was I blushing
again
? 
Or was
I just
feeling
hot
?

“Your turn.
  You pick some.”

Not to be outdone, I found Lamb of God’s “In Your Words,” another one of the songs we’d been getting busy to.  I looked at him and grinned.  Then I started searching for some of my favorite songs.  I picked a crazy amount of Slipknot—“Psychosocial,” “Duality,” and “Before I Forget.”  Then I chose a couple of
Ozzy
tunes, Static X, and System of a Down until I’d used up the
rest of the
money Scott had sunk into the machine.

“Definitely hope for you yet,” he said and then led me over to a pool table.

In a matter of a few seconds, Scott had dropped in some quarters.  I heard the balls dropping out of the table and Scott already had the triangle out and was racking them up.  “You know,” he said, a sly grin covering his face, “we could make this interesting.”

Ooooh
…I liked the tone of his voice.  I was already quite interested. 
“Yeah?”

“
Yeah.
 
We could place a bet.”

I raised my eyebrows. 
“A bet?
  Like what?”  I was growing more intrigued.

“Not money—that’s too easy.” 
Yeah, and after our little discussion earlier, probably a sore spot.

I thought about it while he pulled the triangle off the balls.  “Okay.  How about this?  If you win, I’ll do a sketch of you
and
sign it.”  I grinned.  “You know it’ll be worth a lot someday.”  I started laughing.

He smiled.  “You’ve got the idea.  Okay…
so
if you win, how about I give you a
couple of
drum lesson
s
.  Would that be cool?”

Whoa…I’d never thought of that before.  But, really, making music was a lot like art.  It was creating something out of nothing.  Actually, it
wasn’t
nothing
.  It was making something out of
pain
or love or other emotions.  Yeah, I could really enjoy that.  Besides, I thought having Scott as a drum teacher might be…
erotic
somehow.  Yeah…I could get into that.  I could tell from his eyes that he knew from my expression what my answer was.  And holy shit. 
If people could just fuck with their eyes, well…
  I took a deep breath.  “Yeah, that’d be awesome.”

He grabbed my hand and pulled me close.  He whispered, “And I’ll sleep with you.”

I slap
ped his arm, feeling playful.  I grinned.  “You don’t want to come off as easy, do you?”

He smiled back and his forehead touched mine.  He gazed into my eyes.  “Oh, it’s okay if you think I’m easy, just as long as you know I’m not cheap.”

Oh.  Wow.  We were joking around and having fun, and yet that silly little sentence was weighed down with a crazy amount of meaning.  But what exactly did he mean by it?  I was going to have to pay somehow…  No, it didn’t feel o
minous, just…well, what I said.
Weighty…heavy.
  I had to be responsible for
something
, but I didn’t quite know what.
  And because I wasn’t sure
how
to
reply
, I instead plan
ted an innocent kiss on his lips
.  “So…pool.  Just so you know
,
I’m not very good at it.”

He stepped back toward the wall and examined the pool cues, pulling two down.  After giving each a cursory glance, he handed one to me. 
He had a devilish grin on his face. 
“Are you expecting a handicap?”

I laughed.  “No…the bets as we place
d
them still stand.”  I felt that blush threatening to spread over my cheeks again.  “I’m a big girl.”  My voice got quieter.  “Besides, it’s kind of a win-win no matter what.”

His smile
grew wider.  “That’s
kinda
what I thought too.”

“Just don’t laugh.”

He shook his head. 
“Never
.”

“So how do we decide who goes first?”

He waved his hand across the table. 
“Ladies first.”

A cocktail waitress approached us and asked, “Either of you need a drink?”

“I’d love a Bud,” Scott said and the waitress nodded. 
“
How
about you, Casey?”

“Make that two.”  I didn’t want to drink too much.  I planned on working out later and I needed to be at my best.
  And I really didn’t want him to keep blowing money on me.  Beer was bound to be less expensive.

So I leaned over the table and aimed at the top of the triangle.  I broke and actually landed a solid in the corner pocket. 
Whew
.  Now it didn’t matte
r how good a player Scott was
.  Whatever the case, I got a ball in.  Anything else would be gravy.  I smiled and then moved to the side of the table, aiming to get another solid in the side.  The second attempt, however, wasn’t as successful.  Scott, on the other hand, turned out to be an excellent player and got a majority of his striped balls in on his first turn.

When he finally turned
the play back over to me (with
one ball left to sink
, not including the eight ball
), I said, “Hmmm.  Looks like I’ll be digging out my pencils.”

“You can’t be too sure.  Don’t give up so easily, Case.”

I smiled at him.  That was sweet.  I was trying to line up my next shot when the waitress brought our beers over.  Scott paid her.  Good.  He wasn’t running up a tab so we could leave whenever the whim hit us…and if I had any say in it, it would be sooner rather than later.

Still…I couldn’t help mys
elf.  “Sure you don’t
wanna
split the tab
?” I asked.

“Knock it off.  I got it.”

I sighed.  I’d almost gotten a ball in but it bounced instead of going down.  I could tell that I’d improve with time, but I didn’t want to play
long
enough tonight to get good at it. 
“Your turn, by the way.”
  I nursed my beer while he sunk his last ball.  So…he wasn’t just going to win, he was going to do it decisively.  “I won’t give you cooties, you know.”  He looked up, a question in his eyes.  “Sleeping with me
if you would have won
…I wouldn’t
have
give
n
you anything. 
Didn’t know you were so afraid to lose.”