Thursday, I return to work to find the inbox on my desk piled a foot high with work. I immerse myself in it, grateful for the distraction. I eat lunch at my desk while I work, skipping my usual lunch break.
That doesn’t stop me from wondering if Evan and Acorn are at the park and if he’s looking for me or missing me, but I’m not ready to find out if I was just a quickie for him. I want to stay in my safe bubble of not knowing for a while longer.
On Friday, I do the same ‘I’m going to work non-stop for eight hours’ routine, and by the time five o’clock rolls around, I’m ready to head home, shower, and meet Ditra for dinner. We’re meeting two guys she’s friends with. I suspect one is supposed to be a potential set-up for me, even though I told her I have no interest in being set up with any guys right now. Ignoring my protests, she insisted I meet up with them tonight anyway. I finally agreed because I’ve been feeling stir crazy for the past week and getting out of the house will probably be good for me.
All this is running through my mind as I cross the office parking lot. As I get closer to my car I spot a white note tucked under the windshield wiper. I know it’s from Evan before I pluck it off the windshield and read it.
Well, damn. He knows where I work. He knows which car is mine. Which means he’s been watching me.
My body quivers with fear and delicious anticipation.
He wants me to come back.
I don’t even have to think about it. Tucking the note into my purse, I already know I’ll be going back to the bridge tonight after dinner. Because I want more. Of what, I’m not sure. Just him.
Three hours later, I’m walking into the small but popular pub downtown. Scanning the smoke-filled, noisy room, I spot Ditra and her friends at a high table a few feet from the bar. At the other end of the room, a band is setting up, and I breathe a sigh of relief that we’re not sitting near the small stage. Last time we were here, the music was so loud we couldn’t even hear ourselves talk.
I feel self-conscious wearing tight jeans, high-heeled black boots, and a V-neck sweater as I approach the table because Ditra’s friend, who I’m naming Guy Number Two, has his eyes glued to my chest, and trust me, there’s not much to look at. Smiling, I climb on the empty stool across from Ditra and Guy Number One, who she’s obviously claimed because she’s practically sitting in his lap.
I hope Guy Number Two is just a boob-ogler in general and I’m not giving off any overly sexual vibes. If I see Evan later, I don’t want him to think my push-up bra is an invitation for another bang against the bridge.
“Piper, this is Phil and Mitch. Guys, this is Piper. Be nice to her. She’s shy, but she’s my best friend in the whole wide world, and I’ll kick your balls if you misbehave.”
“Duly noted,” Phil the Ogler says.
“I’m so glad you came out with us tonight.” Ditra leans across the table toward me. “You’ve been mopey all week. Every time I called you, you sounded like a zombie.”
I pretend to be engrossed in the menu. “I told you I was just tired. I’ve had the flu.”
“What do you do for work?” Phil asks.
“I’m an administrative assistant.”
He sips his beer, and I try not to look at his receding hairline, which can’t be a good sign if he’s only in his early twenties. I think of Evan and his long, wavy hair and how erotic it felt tickling my skin when he was feasting on my neck. Closing my menu, I have no idea what I want to eat, but I decide all men should have long hair.
“That’s cool,” Phil says.
“And you?” I ask to be polite. I don’t mind Phil and his receding hairline, but I’m currently in a hopeful something with Evan and therefore, unavailable.
“I’m a landscaper.”
“We both are,” Mitch jumps in. “We’re partners and started the business last year.”
“That’s great.”
I’m bored.
Ditra runs her hand up and down Mitch’s muscular arm like it’s a genie’s lamp. “That’s why they’re so tan and muscular.”
Instead of getting dinners, we order one of every appetizer to share. I debate getting a fruity alcoholic drink like Ditra ordered, but I don’t want alcohol on my breath if I see Evan later. I have no idea if drinking is part of his substance abuse problem, but after the pill debacle, I want to be careful.
“I was thinking we could all go back to my place after dinner, have some drinks, and hang out,” Ditra suggests after the waitress brings the food to our table.
“I’m down for that,” Phil answers with his eyes on me.
I spoon small glops of ranch dressing and honey mustard sauce onto my plate from the large cups that came with the appetizers. I don’t want to dip my food into the same condiment everyone else is dipping theirs. That’s a germ farm I don’t want to be part of.
“I wish I could, but I have plans after this,” I reply.
“Plans?” Ditra repeats. “What plans? Sitting with your cat in bed and reading isn’t a plan.”
The guys laugh.
“Very funny, but no, not with my cat.”
She nudges my leg with her foot under the table. “Well, now you have to tell me. “
“No, I don’t.” I flash her a teasing smile, knowing it’s making her crazy I’m doing something she doesn’t know about, but I’m not about to get into my personal life here in a bar with two men I don’t even know at the table.
The guys divert the conversation to discussing a recent hockey game, leaving Ditra and me to chat about clothes and makeup while we share mozzarella sticks and crispy chicken fingers, but something in the back of my mind keeps distracting me. Then I realize it’s not something in the back of my mind at all, but something in the back of the room.
The band has started to play, and a woman’s sultry voice fills the bar. But that’s not it, either. It’s the very distinct sound of guitar echoing after her voice that’s pulling me in, making my heart race. Turning my head toward the stage, I think my eyes must be playing tricks on me at first, but there’s no denying the guy sitting on that stool, playing guitar on the left side of the stage under a blue light, is Evan. He looks different here, out of the park and surrounded by people. He looks sexier. More real. Somehow less of a fantasy.
True to form, he’s not looking at the people around him at all, leaving me wide open to gawk at him from our table here in the corner.
The female singer has mile-long legs in skin-tight leather pants and an equally tight red T-shirt stretched across her chest, cut to show off her pierced belly button. She’s gorgeous, strutting around on the tiny stage like a born rock star and shaking her waist-length white-blond hair. Skimming her hand up and down his arms and gyrating her hips against him as she belts out a popular Concrete Blonde song, she’s making a show of flirting with Evan, and it’s got me all in a jealous tizzy.
There’s a lot of arm touching going on in this room, and I wonder if that’s the universal I’m totally into you gesture.
“Piper? Are you listening to me?” Ditra grabs my hand, and I drop the French fry I was holding.
“Huh?” I tear my eyes away from the stage.
“You just completely spaced out on me.”
Phil leans into my shoulder and almost spills his beer in my lap. “She was overcome by how awesome I am. It happens a lot,” he jokes.
“Yeah, I’m sure that was it,” Ditra says, rolling her eyes.
“I was just checking out the band,” I say nonchalantly. “They’re really good.”
“They play here a lot,” Mitch informs us. “I’m friends with one of the bartenders who works weekends. He says that singer brings in a lot of customers. She’s hot as hell.”
Ditra glares daggers at him. “Not exactly the best thing to say right in front of me if you’re trying to get some of this.”
Shaking my head, I take a potato skin from the platter and place it on my plate. I can’t believe my best friend just referred to herself as some of this.
Mitch laughs and drapes his arm around her. “I can check her out and still have you, babe.”
She plays coy. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
It takes every ounce of will power I have, but I refuse to let myself look back at the stage for the next two hours. I had no idea Evan also played in local bars with a band. It’s quite possible he plays at a different bar every night of the week and in the park during the day. I’m ashamed of myself for knowing nothing about a man who had several inches of his body buried in mine and who also has been consuming my thoughts for weeks.
When the music stops Evan’s deep voice and laugh drift from the stage, audible even in the crowded room. I finally give in and look over to see the singer standing close to him, talking and laughing with him. A niggle of jealousy gnaws at me, and I wonder if he’s had his hands and his tongue piercing all over her, too. I wouldn’t blame him if he did because she’s beautiful and talented. And tall. She’s like a skyscraper compared to me.
As if he can feel me watching him, he suddenly looks away from her and searches the room until his eyes lock with mine. There’s a flash of surprise on his face, then a quick glance to Phil sitting next to me, before that sexy smirk of his makes an appearance. I quickly turn back to the table and take a gulp of my iced tea, smiling randomly at Mitch, Phil, and Ditra, who’s frowning at me with suspicion.
Within seconds, he’s standing next to me, wedging himself between Phil and me, and I’m afraid I suddenly have the words I totally screwed this guy stamped across my forehead. My mouth opens, but no words come out because, suddenly, his lips are on mine.
“Hey, babe,” he says casually after the kiss. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
Even a quick kiss from him brings on the dizzy and giddy feelings.
“Same here.”
The amusement in his eyes makes it all too obvious he’s enjoying my surprise and awkwardness. “I’m just here with some friends,” I say.
He turns his attention to the rest of the table, giving them a friendly nod. “Hey. I’m Blue, Piper’s boyfriend.”
Ditra’s eyes bug out. “Her boyfriend?” she repeats. “Since when?”
“It’s new,” I answer before he can spout anything else. “I didn’t really get a chance to tell you yet. It happened kind of fast.”
Fast and hard. Under a bridge.
“Apparently so. And you’re in the band?”
“No, I just play guitar with them if their usual guy can’t make it.”
I grab a chicken finger off the platter and offer it to him. “Have some chicken.”
Ditra can’t take her eyes off of him, which I’m starting to see is an effect he routinely has on women. “Do you want to join us?” she asks. “We can drag over a chair.”
He chews the piece of chicken I gave him and swallows before shaking his head. “I’d love to, but my dog is out back, so I need to get going.”
“Do you need a ride?” I ask. “Or did you come with friends?” I’m pretty sure he and Acorn walked here, but I don’t want my friends to know that.
“Yeah, I came with the drummer.”
Lies.
“I can give you a ride home,” I offer. “If you want.”
He reaches for my hand under the table and pulls it into his. “That’d be cool, if your friends don’t mind letting you go.”
“They don’t mind,” I reply, not giving Ditra a chance to say otherwise. I’m sure I’ll get an earful from her tomorrow, but for now, I’m much more interested in spending time with Evan than I am in sitting here next to a guy I have absolutely no interest in while Ditra and Mitch get drunk enough to have sex with each other.
Evan leans closer to me. “I just have to grab my stuff off the stage. I’ll meet you in the parking lot?”
I nod and place my linen napkin on the table. “Sounds good.”
Ditra pounces on me as soon as Evan is out of earshot. “Piper? What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone? Especially someone as smokin’ as him?”
“We only just started seeing each other.” I can’t believe Evan came over here and proclaimed himself my boyfriend without any thought of how it would make me look in front of my friends. What if I was on an actual date with Phil?
Ditra is still all over me from across the table, twirling her straw violently in her drink. “Is this why you’ve been so out of touch lately? Because you’ve got some majorly hot guy?”
“He looks like a dirt bag,” Mitch comments, tipping his stool back on two legs.
“Excuse me?” I practically snarl. “You don’t even fucking know him.”
Ditra’s jaw drops. “Ooh, wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Piper tell someone off before,” she says, smacking Mitch’s shoulder before she turns back to me. “You must really like this guy if he’s making you all savage over him.”
I jump down from the stool and grab my purse. “I’m not savage. I just don’t like judgmental people.” I pull twenty-five dollars out of my wallet and place it between the salt and pepper shakers on the table to cover my portion of the bill, then walk around the table to give Ditra a quick hug goodbye. “You’re not mad I’m leaving, are you?”
“Of course not. I’d leave with him in a heartbeat. But you better call me tomorrow and tell me all about this guy. And no holding anything back. I’ll be waiting.”
I pull from her embrace to smile at her. “I will. Have fun tonight, but be careful.”
Unlike me, who now makes it a habit of going off with random strangers.
“It was nice meeting you both,” I say to Mitch and Phil, and then I’m heading for the door, my heart beating erratically with nerves and excitement.
Once again, I’m stepping into the unknown with zero idea of what or whom I’m getting involved in. I don’t know what Evan wants with me or how he feels about me. He could just be looking for another quickie, and look how fast I just ditched my best friend and a potential date to be with him without any effort on his part other than a simple kiss. He didn’t even have to ask me to drive him. I offered all on my own. I’m clueless as to how this all works, but maybe I should be playing hard to get or acting mildly disinterested in him instead of being so easy.
I’ve never been one for games, though. I like to be real. Authentic. I don’t know how to flirt or tease or play the games other girls might know how to play to make a man chase her and to keep him interested. That seems like a lot of work, and knowing me, I would probably make a mess out of it anyway. It seems easier to follow his lead and hope he doesn’t take me to a place I don’t want to be.
When I get out to the parking lot, he’s standing next to my car with Acorn, his bag, and his guitar case at his feet, and I get the feeling, while physically this is all this man is and has, there’s a lot more going on inside him. Taking a deep breath, I walk up to him instead of getting into the car.
“I got your note.”
He nods. “And you came here instead of coming to see me.”
“I was planning on trying to find you afterward.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
He leans against my car fender and reaches out to move my long hair behind my shoulder. “You look pretty. Is that for me or that guy you were sitting with?”
I attempt to play it cool. “Definitely not for him. I just met him tonight. I only came to be polite because my friend is interested in his friend.”
His mouth clicks as he taps his piercing against his teeth. “Were you coming to see me to be polite?”
“No.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
He says it with such sadness I almost burst into tears. I look at my feet and swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
He tilts my face with a finger so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “You want to tell me why?” he asks softly.
“I was scared. I am scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of you,” I admit. “And other things.”
His brow creases, and he licks his lips. “You should’ve told me you were a virgin.”
Ugh. I’m grateful for the dark hiding my blushing cheeks. “I didn’t really get a chance to.”
“True. I never would’ve done that if I’d known. I thought you wanted me.”
I breathe in a shallow breath. “I did.”
Grabbing my waist, he pulls me against his body and leans down, pressing his lips against my forehead and holding them there for a few moments.
“I like you, Piper.”
“I like you, too,” I whisper.
“I think I might need you in my life.”
My stomach flip-flops.
“Let’s drive back to the park,” he suggests. “We can sit in the car and talk for a while.”
“Okay.” I slowly pull away from him.
“Do you mind if Acorn sits in your back seat? His paws are clean.”
“Of course he can.”
I let myself into the driver’s side while he puts Acorn and his stuff in the back and then gets in the passenger seat next to me.
“How did you know this was my car?” I ask as I put the key in the ignition. “Have you been watching me?”
“I actually saw you getting into it one night before you first saw me playing in the park. Me and Acorn were walking around, and I saw you in the parking lot where you work. You dropped your keys, and when you reached down to pick them up, your sunglasses fell off your head and were all tangled up in your hair.”
I nod, remembering that crappy day when everything under the sun seemed to go wrong.
“I thought you looked way too young to be driving, and I wondered if you could even see over the dashboard.”
“Really?” I ask, offended and humiliated. “You’re going to be one of those people who make fun of my height now?”
I’ve heard it all over the years. Pipsqueak, Shorty, Tinkerbell. And let’s not forget Pussypuker, which has nothing to do with my height and everything to do with my supreme awkwardness.
“Go easy, baby. I think you’re fucking cute and sexy.”
Ignoring my frown, he reaches across the car and holds my hand as I drive. It makes me feel so excited inside that I have to force myself to focus extra hard on actually driving the car, especially when I’m so lost in my thoughts I almost run a red light.
“Do you want me to drive?” he asks when I slam on the brakes at the last minute. “You seem a little distracted.”
“I’m fine. I’m just not used to someone holding my hand while I’m driving.”
“Do you want me to let go so you don’t kill us?” he teases.
I tighten my fingers around his before the light turns green. “No,” I answer with a smile.
When we get near the park, he directs me to a dead-end side road, and I stop the car and turn off the lights and engine when we reach the end of the street near the woods.
“I don’t think anyone will bother us here,” he says. “You mind if I smoke?”
“Not at all.”
He lets go of my hand to light up a cigarette, and I turn the key to lower his window for him.
“You said you were scared.”
“Yeah…”
He exhales smoke out the window and waits for me to continue without prompting me.
Running my finger over the leather steering wheel, I search for the right words and come up short.
“I’m afraid I might be pregnant. Or that maybe you have something.”
“Something?”
“Yeah. Like something I could get.”
“Oh.” He flicks ashes out the window. “That kind of something.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t come in you, so the chances of you getting pregnant are slim. And you can’t get pregnant from swallowing.”
“I know that,” I say defensively.
“Just making sure.”
Does he think I’m stupid? It might have been my first time, but I’m not a total moron about sex.
“I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Two years, maybe. Maybe more.”
A wave of relief washes through me hearing that. I was afraid he’s been wandering around sleeping with all sorts of women in different states from coast to coast.
“Okay.”
“I don’t blame you for thinking I’m scum, Piper. I know how I look, being homeless, having long hair and tattoos, not being able to take you on a date. You deserve better.”
“I don’t think you’re scum at all. And I like the way you look. I didn’t think you had a disease because you’re homeless, Evan. You’re just really good-looking, and I figured you probably sleep with tons of women.”
That makes him laugh. “A few. But definitely not a ton. And I usually use protection. I just couldn’t fuckin’ wait to get inside you. You scrambled my fucking brain.”
“I know the feeling,” I mutter.
“And just so you know, I shower several times a week. There’s a kid that works at the truck stop on the highway. I give him guitar lessons, and he lets me use the shower early in the morning. He even gives me soap and shampoo. I’m squeaky clean,” he says with a grin.
I shake my head and smile at him. “I wondered how you always smell so nice.”
He takes one more drag off his cigarette, throws it out the window, and then grabs my hand again.
“Next time, I’ll be prepared. Okay? And I’ll try to go a little slower.”
Next time? There’s going to be a next time?
“And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go to the clinic downtown and get tested.”
The idea is tempting, but I think it’s safe to assume Evan doesn’t have health insurance like I do, and he’ll end up with a huge bill to pay. That makes me wonder how he even gets his bills in the mail. Does he have a PO box? Or does he have to pay for everything immediately and in full with cash? How does anyone even get in contact with him? This homelessness situation is very confusing to me.
“Um, I think that might be expensive,” I say.
“I have some extra cash for emergencies.”
Oh no. I can’t let him do that. What if he gets sick and needs the money? Or what if Acorn gets sick or hurt? What if they need food?
“You don’t have to do that.” I face him. “Do you promise me you’re telling the truth?”
“I give you my word.” His eyes hold nothing but sincerity, and it soothes my nerves somewhat. I’ve heard liars have shifty eyes, but his are calm. I decide to keep my appointment to get tested to myself and only bring it up if a scary result comes back. Otherwise, there’s really no point insulting him by telling him I ran to a doctor after having sex with him. No guy wants to hear that.
We hold hands across the inside of my car and listen to the radio in the dark. He tells me he started playing guitar and writing songs when he was about eight or nine years old and how his older brother introduced him to weed right around the same time. He explains how the words came easier when he was high, and it took him almost ten years to realize he couldn’t keep smoking weed every day. He admits he dropped out of high school during his junior year.
I listen intently as he tells me about the other drugs he then started to use—most I don’t even recognize the names of. While rubbing his thumb along the inside of my palm, he tells me how it took him another four years, a stay in rehab, and threats from his family and friends for him to get off the harder drugs. I’ve only smoked pot a few times and didn’t like how it made me feel or all the coughing it made me do, so I can’t truly understand his addictions. But it’s clear from the emotion in his voice that he had a very strong love/hate experience with drugs and alcohol.
“Living straight and sober made me feel restless. That’s when I left and started living like this. Being free became a new high.” He lifts my hand to his lips, and my breath hitches when he kisses the tiny ladybug tattoo on my wrist.
“Now you’re my addiction.” His low, gravelly tone sends ripples through my stomach.
Letting go of my hand, he leans across the small car and kisses me. I open my mouth for his tongue, welcoming the familiar minty-smoky taste of him. As he kisses me, he reaches across my body, finds the seat lever, and pulls it while pushing the headrest with his other hand until I’m leaning all the way back. Acorn quickly scooches over to the other side of the back seat to make room for the sudden invasion.
He leans over me in the front seat, still kissing me hungrily. When I reach up to put my arms around him, he slowly moves his lips down the side of my throat, sucking and biting a tantalizing path to the V-neck of my sweater, pulling the fabric down to expose the pink silk push-up bra cradling my breasts. I send up a silent thank you to Victoria’s Secret for designing a bra that makes even my small breasts look good.
He drags his tongue into my cleavage, stopping at the front clasp and undoing it with his teeth. God, there really is something to be said about a man who knows what he’s doing. Bracing one arm on the seat next to my head, he moves his lips slowly up the slight curve of my breast, pushing the fabric to the side until I’m completely uncovered. He lets out a deep sigh that makes my heart pound even harder as he circles my nipple with his tongue, sucking it between his lips until it aches for more. I moan softly and arch my body up into him with my fingers gripping his shoulders. The metal of his tongue piercing flicks over my taut nipple, sending hot tingles down my thighs and deep into the center of my core.
He moves his hand down my body and he unbuttons and unzips my jeans in a flash. I wiggle beneath the steering wheel, helping him push my pants down. Breathlessly, I tug his shirt up, needing to feel his warm flesh beneath my fingertips. He slides his hand under my saturated panties, cupping all of me in his hand, his palm pressing against my already-throbbing clit. His mouth comes back down on mine, hard and desperate as he touches my wet lips, spreading me open with two fingers and entering me with a third. Gasping, I dig my nails into his shoulders and kiss him back just as wildly, unable to stop myself from moving my hips in rhythm with his finger-fucking.
I want to cry and beg when he pulls his lips from mine. I’m convinced I can’t survive a moment without his mouth, his breath, and his taste. But he proves me wrong when he slides another finger into my tight, wet depths, and the metal of his silver skull ring rims my entrance, heightening the pleasure. Eyes closed in ecstasy, I try to tug him back to my lips, but instead, he bows his head to my breasts again, licking one, then the other, sucking and nibbling my aching nipples until my entire body is in a frenzy.
I want all of him, everywhere. There’s not a part of me that I don’t want him to own. I tangle my fingers in his long hair, holding him to me as I arch up into his mouth and thrusting fingers. My gasps and cries fill the car as I come, but I can’t hold back or hush myself. He’s taken away all my self-control with his lips, fingers, and scent.
Still stroking me slowly, he lifts his head to finally kiss my lips as I try to catch my breath. “You’re such a sweet, sexy little thing,” he whispers. “I’ve been losing my fucking mind thinking about you.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” I reply breathlessly.
“Good.” He slowly pulls his fingers from my quivering body and presses his palm against my sex again, cupping my heat as my body recovers from orgasm. “I want you to keep coming back for more.”
“Okay,” I agree dreamily.
He smiles, and we kiss again—another long, deep, and consuming kiss that blurs the lines of where I end and he begins. This… this is everything I’ve been hoping for in a man.
After a few minutes, he pulls away, and his eyes are dark and lust-filled. “You should probably go home. It’s almost two o’clock.”
Reluctantly, I put my seat back up and fix my clothes, wondering how the night flew by so incredibly fast.
“Should I drive you to the park entrance?” I ask hesitantly. “Is that the best way for you to get to the bridge?”
He nods. “Yeah, but I can walk from here. It’s not far.”
Shaking my head, I start up the car. “I’m not going to let you walk.”
“I walk everywhere, Piper.”
I turn the car around and head toward the main road. “I know, but I’m not going to let you walk in the middle of the night when you’re in my car already. That’s silly.”
He doesn’t say another word until I pull up in front of the park entrance. The street is empty and spooky quiet. Farther down the road, I can see the traffic light near my office change from red to green, and it seems out of place with no cars to stop and go.
“I’m glad we ran into each other,” he says, breaking the silence.
“Me, too.”
He cocks his head at me, his hand on the door handle. “Were you really going to come see me after your date? Or were you just trying to be nice?”
“It wasn’t a date. And yes, that was honestly my plan after I found your note. All I wanted to do was see you again.”
“Just checking.” He climbs out of the car, opens the door to the back seat, and pulls out his stuff. Acorn hops out, yawns, and shakes his body; waiting patiently while Evan leans back into the car.
“Come see me tomorrow.”
My stomach and heart jump with a burst of unexpected excitement. “Here?”
“Yeah. At the picnic table.”
I nod and smile. “Okay.”
He winks and closes the car door.
Even though my space at my parents’ house is supposed to be my own, I know they will freak out if I take Evan and Acorn home with me, but that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could do just that as I watch them walk off into the dark to go sleep on the cold, hard ground.
