More Than Friends Read online

  Content with the idea of dealing with everything later, I leave Skye with Paul in favor of another shot to calm my nerves. Anna gives me a perceptive look but thankfully doesn’t utter a single word. She slides the shot of Jack Daniels across the bar to me and I immediately down it. The burn from the alcohol helps numb the inner turmoil burning in my gut.

  Tom comes up beside me, places his arm over my shoulders, and leans into my ear. “I had Todd thrown out on his ass. He won’t be approaching you again. You okay?” I can hear the anger in his tone.

  Todd and Tom were close friends in school and even closer when Todd and I dated. I think Tom knew what was going on in our relationship but he never said anything. Tom stopped talking to him when one of our arguments put me in the hospital. When I finally called it quits for good, Tom completely wrote him off.

  Tom starts talking again, but now he’s standing directly in front of me. “You look good, Chloe. You ready?” he asks.

  “Ready? I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to get.” I give a small, unsure laugh.

  “Get your ass up there and make Patty proud!” he whoops, smacking me on the ass.

  Shaking my head, I travel across the small distance to take my place on the pole. Adrenaline starts coursing its way through my veins. I won’t be taking off any clothes; my dancing is more stunts and technique.

  Climbing onto the platform, I give Paul a nod to signal I’m ready to go. I scan the crowd to look for Skye, but don’t see him anywhere.

  The music begins playing and I start to sway from side to side, following the beat with my hips. Grabbing the rod with one hand, I swing around, keeping my feet in place on the stage.

  As soon as my upper body is constricted around the pole I lift my feet off the ground and hang on until my legs swing around to join the rest of my body. Dropping into a crouch, my back is facing the crowd and I rock my hips from left to right, sliding my way back up the cold steel.

  Once I’m standing, I begin to grind my body against it. Reaching one hand above the other, I use my upper body strength and bare feet to pull my body into a basic climb. When I am completely off the ground, Paul takes his cue to hit the switch that unlocks the pole and it begins to spin.

  I pull myself halfway up, then cross my legs and lock my upper thighs. I move into a sitting position, release my hands and arch my back until my body is upside down and parallel to the pole, holding on with just my thighs.

  Paul hits the locks and the spinning stops. I reach my arms out to grab the pole, and with a firm grip I unlock my thighs and move into the walk down, which is my favorite maneuver. It took me over a year to master.

  When I’m in a vertical position, I wrap my thighs around the cold steel and quickly move through several more moves. By the end of the song, I have both feet firmly planted on the floor and I’m back in a crouching position, facing the crowd. The swarm of patrons are whooping and hollering in excitement from my performance.

  My eyes scan the crowd and instantly find Skye standing in front of the stage. I blush and bolt back toward the office, ignoring the demands for an encore and catcalls from my fans.

  The moment “Bad Girlfriend” starts playing, I spot Brady dragging the guy out the back door. Brady happens to look up and notices me watching. He gives me a thumbs-up and a crooked smile, disappearing into the alley.

  Chloe leaves me standing with Paul and practically runs to Anna at the bar. I watch as she sits on the stood with her back facing me.

  Tom walks up beside me and says, “He’s her ex. Not such a nice guy. Go check on Brady. I don’t want dead bodies behind my bar.” He’s right, so I run to the back door, and when I open it I hear a painful, “Oomph.”

  “Yo, B! You good man?” I call. I hear another “oomph” and walk around to the back of our small enclosed trailer to find Brady straddling the asshole, throwing blow after blow to his blood splattered face.

  I grab Brady by the collar and pull him off the guy, then grab him myself and pull him to his feet. I slam him against the trailer. My hands are shaking as rage floods through me. “You put your mother fucking hands on my girl again, I. Will. Fucking. End. You. You feel me?” I scream in his face.

  The battered guy smiles and says, “Fuck you.”

  I toss him to the ground and he starts to crawl away like the fucking cockroach he is. Brady walks up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder. “You’re really into this chick, huh?”

  I turn to my friend and with a nod I say, “Yeah man, I’m really, really into her.” We stand in silence for a minute and I nod to the door. “Let’s go in, man. We got a gig to finish.”

  When we enter the bar, Chloe is dancing on the pole and I race toward her, not wanting to miss the show. Brady and I elbow our way through the crowd, but by the time we reach the stage, Chloe’s performance is over.

  The crowd is cheering for her and I’m elated to see her eyes frantically scanning the crowd for me. She holds my gaze for several pregnant moments before she finally blushes and rushes back toward the office to change.

  The band and I go back to the stage to finish our last set. “You think you can play, man?” Harley asks, his eyes full of concern. I stand behind my mic and lift the strap to my guitar over my neck.

  “Yeah, I’m good, man. Let’s get this night over,” I reply as I walk toward the stage.

  The last set flies by. I stare at the dark hallway the entire time I’m on stage, waiting for Chloe to come out. Forty-five minutes pass and she doesn’t so much as peek her head around the corner. I’m beginning to get worried.

  We finish singing our last song and I walk over to Brady. “Y’all good on getting this shit packed up?”

  Brady smiles and says, “Tom told us to leave it. He wants us to play again tomorrow night.”

  “Shit! That’s great, man. But I’m not leaving my guitar,” I reply, and before I can say anything else, I spot Chloe walking through the bar. She’s wearing the same brown dress from earlier.

  Her face is weary and stressed, but she still has a smile when she steps behind the bar to assist in the closing. I turn back to gather my cords, amps, and my prized, gunmetal grey, 1970 Rickenbacker Light Show, and then go out to load it in the trailer.

  Chloe is pushing the last customer out of the door when Brady, Harley, and Kasey approach me. “You gonna stick around for the party?” Kasey asks.

  I look to my band-mates and then to Chloe, not the least bit torn between the decision I’ve just made. “Na, I’m gonna head out. Y’all help these ladies get this shit cleaned up.”

  They separate and head to separate corners of BAR and start hauling trashcans toward the back door.

  “We can restock everything tomorrow,” Chloe shouts from the front entrance of BAR. She scans the bar and spots the guys hauling cans out the door. A surprised expression lights her face before she finishes. “Just get the place clean so we can get out of here.” She walks behind the bar to collect the money from the cash registers, and then disappears into the office.

  A few minutes later, I watch from my position beside the back door as everyone gathers around the bar, Crystal doling out beers on the opposite side.

  The door beside me opens and Tom enters the bar. He notices me leaning against the wall and when he turns to face me, the first thing I observe is his glazed over eyes and wide smile.

  “Sup, man?” He drags each word out slowly and his smile brightens.

  “Hey, man,” I say on a laugh.

  “Great gig tonight. Told Brady y’all got the job, so be here 'round six tomorrow. Y’all good to play every Friday and Saturday?” he asks.

  “Sounds good,” I say. He starts toward the bar and stops in front of Chloe on the dance floor. Her face lights up in amusement at whatever they’re talking about. I push off the wall and head to the bathroom.

  I hear Chloe say she’s about to head out so I hurry up and handle my business. I quickly cross the room when I leave the bathroom, admiring her beauty in the low lights of the
bar.

  “Wait a sec. I’ll walk you to your car,” I tell her when I’m almost in reaching distance.

  “You don’t have to walk me to my car,” she fusses. “I live two blocks away. It’s barely a ten minute walk.” Chloe walking home this late at night alone is definitely a no-go. She’s not going to shake me that easily.

  “You are NOT walking home alone this late at night,” I argue with a smile on my face, knowing she’ll cave.

  “I’m out,” I say to Brady who is watching us. He gives a slight nod as I turn to the exit. Chloe huffs in frustration, but quickly catches up and then passes me, rushing toward the exit.

  “Are you always this stubborn?” My question comes out as a laugh.

  “Yes,” her co-workers shout from behind us, and I have to bite my lip to suppress my laughter.

  “You know, I’m a big girl. I am more than capable of walking myself home,” she spits over her shoulder. I act as if her trying to blow me off hurts my feelings and poke my lips out.

  “What? You don’t like my company? If that’s the case, then you definitely fooled the hell outta me earlier.” I know it was a low blow to throw that in there, but I want to remind her how great we were together in the office tonight.

  She lights a cigarette. I don’t mind the smoking, but I want to keep up our banter, so I pick at her about it.

  With her back to me, I’m able to watch her swaying hips and am hypnotized by their rhythm. I don’t hear her retort but I laugh to pretend I was paying attention.

  I realize we’re close to my apartment building and am a little surprised when she walks to the main door and stops. “Thanks for everything,” she says nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

  For the first time since I met her, she looks vulnerable. She starts working her bottom lip feverishly between her teeth and I close the distance between us, reaching up to free it at the same time.

  I’m pressed up against her and can feel her nipples harden between us. Her heart beats against my chest.

  Not being able to control myself a minute longer, I lean in and slam my mouth against hers. Her body goes tense and she doesn’t respond at first, but after a moment, she places her hands on my chest and moves her mouth with mine.

  I’m itching to explore her body; I start at her hips, a bit concerned that she might turn me away if I go too far. She releases a purr and I realize my touch is welcomed. My hands begin to roam her hips and settle on her soft ass.

  My entire body is humming with excitement. My head screams at me to slow down but my body isn’t listening. My mouth moves from hers, down her neck, and then back up to her ear. She grinds her hips into my iron-hard erection and we both release a moan. I know she notices how she affects me.

  I barely hear someone mumble, “get a room,” before her body goes rigid and she pulls away. I’m left breathless and cold from the absence of her body.

  She begins to give me the brush off but I don’t let her finish her sentence. Instead, I consume her words with my mouth. When I pull back, I look deep into her spring green eyes, silently begging her to invite me in.

  “Look, Skye. Um, thanks for walking me home. I really do appreciate it–” She starts to speak but before she can finish her sentence, my lips are back on hers and the resistance she was trying to build towards me brakes.

  After a long moment, I pull back and say, “We don’t need to have this conversation outside. Invite me in, Chloe.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “So we can talk. I want to know what the hell is going on with you and him. I need to know what he’s capable of and if you’re safe.” I can tell that that guy is a sore topic with her. Her entire body tenses up at the mention of him.

  “Anything could happen,” I continue. “I saw the way he was looking at you, and something tells me he’s dangerous. Don’t be surprised if I start walking you to and from work from now on,” I inform her, and I mean every damn word. I will walk with her to the damn gynecologist if it means she is safe.

  She looks over his shoulder and I realize that someone may have heard me so I soften my tone and say, “We also need to talk about whatever this is between us. We’re going to talk before you can talk yourself out of whatever it is.” I point at her and then me. I lift my hand and push a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  She leans into my hand, but when she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls away.

  “I really hope you don’t expect me to let you walk me everywhere. I’m not a little kid and I can take care of myself. I’ve lived on my own since I was eighteen. I didn’t need anyone to take care of me then and I am more than capable of taking care of myself now, and there is no ‘us.’ There’s a ‘we,’ as in we had a moment in Tom’s office, but that’s all. Definitely no ‘us.’ I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone right now.”

  I can’t help but be amused at her statement. Her words say one thing but then her eyes and body completely betrays her.

  “Invite me in, Chloe. I’ll behave. Scout's honor!” I raise my hand and fold my pinky and thumb, leaving the other three fingers extended.

  "Were you even a scout?” she laughs.

  “Yes?” My answer comes out a question, which only prompts her to laugh harder.

  “What does that even mean?” she probes.

  “It means my mom made me go to a couple of meetings. It didn’t go so well. Let’s just leave it at that.” It’s my turn to start laughing.

  “Oh, no. This I have to hear. What happened? Why weren’t you in the Scout's for more than a couple of meetings?” She crosses her arms over her chest and smirks in amusement.

  “Well, it involves the pet squirrel I had at the time, a flaming marshmallow, and a very pissed off Scout leader. But, I’m not telling you out here on the street.” I lean in to whisper in her ear and say, “Someone might hear us.” She smirks. I know she knows what I’m trying to accomplish and so far it’s working.

  She rolls her eyes in mock annoyance before saying, “Okay, you can come up for a while.” I give her another one of my killer smiles and move so she can open the door.

  “I knew you would see things my way,” I tease as I take the keys from her hand and unlock the front door of the apartment building. I hold it open to allow her to pass.

  I can’t get Chloe into the building and off the street fast enough. As we walk up the quiet stairwell that leads to her apartment, I have a moment of what I think is pure genius.

  “Hey, let me see your phone for a second.” My voice echoes off the concrete walls.

  I’m not sure why, but Chloe is always so skeptical of everything, so I’m not surprised when she looks at me with raised eyebrows. “Huh? Why?” she questions.

  I look at her in the bright lighting of the stairwell and say, in a falsely annoyed voice, “Just give it to me. Quit trying to argue about everything.” That earns me the most melodious giggle I have ever heard and I have the urge to make her do it again.

  I quickly program my number into her phone and, without telling her, download Ron Pope’s “A Drop in the Ocean” and set it as my ring tone. I then call my phone from hers and do the same.

  I hand her back the phone. “Now you’ve got my number and I have yours. Call me if you ever need anything.” This earns me another laugh and I smile brightly at her.

  She tries to act like she’s put off by my stunt with the phone, but by the way her eyes light up and the smile on her face, I know she’s putting on a front. I chuckle under my breath.

  We enter her apartment through a small foyer. Chloe continues into the living room and immediately hits the couch. Still standing by the door, I can see directly into the small living room. Looking around her apartment, which is two floors down from mine, I take in all the difference between the two. Mine is bigger than hers but there are a lot of similarities. Both apartments have the same soft neutral beige walls, but where her living room sits to the left and her small kitchen to the right, mine is opposite.

  The
furniture in the living room area is all in dark browns. The only other color in the room belongs to a few paintings of burgundy-wine flowers. There are some randomly placed picture frames of Chloe and another woman that looks to be about the same age. I don’t remember Chloe having any siblings, so it must be a friend, or maybe a cousin.

  To the right is a breakfast bar that separates this room from the kitchen. White appliances and tan laminate countertops are crammed together in the tight space. Taking a few steps into the living room, I notice the dark hall with three closed doors.

  Chloe pats the seat next to her and says, “So, tell me about this camping trip.” I quickly move across the small space and sit next to her. She pulls her legs underneath her and slides up into the crook of the couch.

  I rest my arm behind her and begin reliving one of my favorite childhood memories.

  “Well, in order for me to tell you that, I need to tell you a little back-story.” She nods in encouragement so I continue. “When I was in the fourth grade, my dad tried to teach me to deer hunt. We went out early one morning and sat in a damn tree for three hours. We hadn’t seen anything all day, so he was ready to go. When we climbed out of the stand I heard something chirping at the base of the tree. I walked around the area but didn’t see anything, so I started toward my dad and the truck. But before I took a step, I happened to look down and see a baby squirrel lying on the ground. The squirrel couldn’t have been a week old. I picked it up and took it to Dad. He let me keep it.”

  “You seriously had a pet squirrel?” she interrupts.

  I nod and continue, “Anyway, a year later, Pete was full grown and started acting crazy. Apparently, squirrels don’t make great pets, especially if they’re male. My mom and dad decided we should let Pete go back into the wild.

  “In the meantime, Mom had just signed me up for Boy Scout's. I didn’t want to join, but she made me. A couple weeks in, we went on a camping trip and I decided I would take him camping and let him go in the woods. I hid him in my satchel until we got to the campsite, and let him loose in my tent. Later that night, we were doing the usual campfire stuff. You know, roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories. Well, my marshmallow caught on fire so I pulled it out and started flinging my stick back and forth.”