7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Alec
I clench my hands into fists as I listen to Chase go on about everything I need to consider. He’s worried that he made the wrong decision fighting for this band, and I can’t speak for the others, but I’m starting to feel that way too.
Over the past two years, Chase has gone out of his way to make us known. It’s comical to think about how we were once amateurs, screwing around for fun, and now we are in the top fifty bands in the state.
We’d get together Friday nights—Samantha, James, Tyler, and I—and go to different pubs in and out of town to play. For a while, it was more of a getaway. None of us had expected to be in the right bar at the right time. Chase is the anchor to our success, and it’s not that I don’t take his opinions seriously. I do, very much so.
But right now, I have zero intentions of leaving Brooklyn. Not when my aunt was so close to coming to the last event held in town. I know because I saw her at the entrance of Cold Brew Cafe. She paused before going inside, looking over the flier Samantha taped to the window.
Then there is Summer. The key to fixing my entire screwed-up life.
“This is a great opportunity, Alec. If we take this deal, we have a bigger chance of becoming known worldwide. It’s everything we’ve talked about the past year.” Samantha pulls a stool out and sits next to Chase in the center of the music studio.
“Don’t forget the money,” Chase adds.
My teeth grit, but it goes unnoticed. “Denverson. If we’re granted a spot, how long are we going to be there?”
Chase flips through the binder in his lap and skims over the schedule he always keeps on him. “Four. Five days max.”
I take a deep breath and think for a minute. “Are they willing to push the event to the twenty-sixth?” Samantha’s eyes narrow, but I ignore it, keeping my eyes on Chase.
“There is a huge possibility. Jesse, the owner, said she was eager to have you guys play there. I can ask her if she is willing to reschedule.”
I nod, chewing the inside of my lip. Samantha’s eyes move from Chase to me, and going by her now tight expression, she is unhappy with me.
“If she is unwilling to reschedule, you all lose the opportunity of a lifetime. Do you understand that?”
“I understand.”
“Great.” His tone is unamused. Chase closes his binder and heads to the door. “I’ll call as soon as I speak with her.”
When Chase leaves, Samantha doesn’t move. She stares at me with disappointment. I pinch the bridge of my nose and walk to the far right of the music studio to my guitar case, shuffling for the pack of cigarettes I stuffed in there before I came downstairs.
I can feel Samantha’s stare dig into the back of my head, aggravation rushing through my body.
“I can feel you looking at me,” I say, buckling my case back up before turning around.
Her lips purse and she shakes her head. “You do realize that you basically told Chase to fuck off, right?”
“Actually, I asked to reschedule, which is common. If they want us there so badly, they’ll be willing to swap dates to suit our needs.” I shrug.
Sam crosses her arms over her chest. “And what exactly are ‘our’ needs?”
I take a minute to think about that. I tell her, “I have a few personal things I need to take care of.”
She walks toward me, her eyes squinting. “Remind me… what personal things? Because I know you tell me just about everything, even when I don’t want to hear it.”
I walk to the coat rack hanging on the wall and slip my leather jacket on. “I don’t tell you everything.”
That’s not a lie. We’ve known each other for years, so I do tell Samantha a lot. She’s my best friend, but there are a handful of things that I keep to myself. This personal matter is one of them.
She presses her lips together and nods.
I ignore her snark and grab my guitar case.
“This isn’t about that girl, is it?” The anger in her voice is evident.
My heart lodges in my throat. The better side of me would be honest with Samantha and tell her, but doing so would only lead her to stop me. And I’m not sure I want to. Which only infuriates me.
The plan of getting Summer to fall for me to get under her father’s skin and use her as a pawn to have my charges dropped sounded great in my head but after our interaction yesterday…there is a piece of me that feels something. Something I can’t quite figure out.
I shrug, not bothering to answer Samantha.
“Oh my god. Alec Sokolov. What the fuck?” My jaw ticks, and I pluck a smoke from my pack before slipping it into my jacket pocket. Then I glide the cigarette behind my ear. Samantha continues before I get the chance to say anything. “Tell me. How do you benefit from this? I mean, I’ve helped keep you out of jail three times over the past seven years. If you are going to be screwing around with her, I won’t be there to back you up next time.”
“Then don’t be. I can handle myself.”
Her eyes drift to the phone she took out of her pocket. “Whatever, Alec. You have fun with whatever the fuck you think is going to benefit you. But whatever you do, don’t drag this band down with it. We worked too hard for you to screw it up.”
She swings the door open and strides out without another word.
Blowing out a breath of aggravation, I grip the handle of my guitar case. I lock the studio door and walk up the stairs into my apartment to put my guitar away.
I freeze on my way down through the small hallway. My lips move up on their own accord as I look through the window at a short blond walking past the building.
My building.
If fate exists, I’d assume this is it.
I open the door, hoping she doesn’t notice I’m right here. Leaning against the railing, I take her in for a beat. My eyes skim along her frame, pausing on her perfect round ass swaying as she walks slowly.
How can the man I hate more than anything in this entire world have such a beautiful daughter?
Before I know it, I am walking behind her. Maybe a little too close. I can smell her pomegranate shampoo.
I notice a white cord peeking out of the back pocket of her jean shorts and trailing up through strands of her short hair. She has no idea I’m following her.
That is until she pulls her phone out and wraps the cord around it.
“Stalking much.” There’s no question in her tone.
I can’t help the grin that appears on my face. “I could ask the same thing.”
Finally, she stops walking and turns around. “How is that?”
“Well, I live there.” I point my thumb over my shoulder.
Her eyes move past me, looking at the building. I study her as she focuses. Those eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I’ve ever laid my eyes on. A selfish part of me is thankful they are nothing like her father’s brown eyes.
She looks back at me with slightly raised eyebrows. “You live above a music studio. Why does that not surprise me?”
I look down at my feet, my smile not wavering. “Where are you heading anyway?”
From my peripheral, I see her shrug. My heart nearly stops as I take in her flawless and creamy skin. I think about how perfect she’d look underneath me, and my cock stirs a little behind my jeans. I shove the thought aside, thinking of anything but what she feels like—tastes like.
Stick to the plan, Alec.
“Do you want to get some coffee?” I ask, taking a leap of faith.
She smiles wide. A real smile. More prominent than yesterday when I was only trying to get her to cheer up. My eyes focus on the dimples in both of her cheeks.
And well… shit .
I think I just fell in love with that smile.
***
If I were smarter, I wouldn’t have suggested grabbing coffee. I wouldn’t have chosen to take her somewhere public where her father could walk in at any given moment. Too bad my feelings got in the way of my logical thinking.
Even if I wanted to, it’s too late to back out now.
Truthfully, I could come up with an excuse to turn around. It would be so easy to fake a phone call for a quick emergency meeting. To cover my tracks, I could… message the group to meet me back at the studio for practice. After all, I am in charge of Devil’s Riot. In the end, I call all the shots.
But like the idiot I am, I hold the door to Cold Brew Cafe open for Summer. Her shoulder brushes against mine, and the air in my lungs clogs my throat from the tiny contact.
What the fuck is going on with me?
I shove the odd feeling down, becoming frustrated, and I give her a tight smile before we make our way to the front counter and order two iced coffees, hoping she doesn’t notice.
Once the coffee is done, I wave my hand toward the round table in the far back. We both walk that way in silence, each sitting on opposite sides of each other.
“Do you always play punk-rock songs?” she asks, picking at her thumbnail before turning her head my way.
“Basically. It’s preferred.”
She nods, keeping her eyes on her cup. My eyes watch each move as she bends down, bringing her mouth to the straw. I dig my nails into my palm, hating the way my body is reacting to her plump lips wrapping around the straw and sucking.
I adjust myself in my seat in an attempt to make sure my erection isn’t noticeable, and then clear my throat. “You seem to take walks a lot.”
Her eyes narrow, but there’s no confusion on her face. It’s something else, and I can’t make sense of it.
“I’m glad the two encounters we’ve had have you assuming that I walk all the time.” Her tone is full of sarcasm, which has me laughing. “Honestly, it’s peaceful. I’d rather walk than fill the planet up with more toxic waste. It’s something I feel I have control over.”
Interesting.
“What makes you feel like you don’t have control?” I ask curiously.
She doesn’t answer right away, but when her mouth parts she doesn’t give me the answer I was looking for. Instead, she changes the subject. “How did you decide you wanted to play in a band? Or, well… own one, I think.”
I tilt my head, focusing on her. “Do you ever feel like you’re trapped in an alternate universe? Almost like the world is out to get you, leaving you alone.” I pause, waiting for her to respond.
“I feel like that often. More often than I should.”
A sense of remorse stabs me in the chest. I wonder what could possibly make her feel hollow inside. I don’t ask because it’s too soon to push for answers.
“Music. Playing. Singing. All of it helps me escape the fucked-up world I live in.”
“ You live in?” she questions.
My spine straightens. “Well, the world isn’t all cupcakes and rainbows.”
She giggles, and I’m becoming increasingly mad at myself for wanting to hear her laugh again. “That’s obvious.” Silence falls between us for a beat, and then she adds, “What happened to you?”
The corner of my mouth curls up. “What happened to you? Besides your mom.”
She breathes in, and her nostrils flare for a split second. “That doesn’t exactly give me an answer.”
I shrug. “Nor did you give me an answer.”
She groans, scratching between her eyebrows and taking another sip of her coffee. “Maybe if you give me an answer, I’ll answer anything you want.”
I tilt my head. “I think we both know that’s a story for another time, Sunshine.”
A small smirk appears on her mouth but falls instantly as her eyes dart to mine. “Did you just call me Sunshine?”
“Yes.”
She watches me closely, then leans over the table. “Are you flirting?”
My tongue presses against the roof of my mouth, contemplating if I should continue the obvious flirting that she clearly enjoys or if I should change the subject.
I continue because, truthfully, I’m enjoying this just as much. “I still want to kiss you.”
Her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink, and her arms tighten, showing the crease of her breasts peeking out of her shirt perfectly. My tongue darts out, wetting my lips.
I shouldn’t be here, and surely should not be dreaming about fucking her on every surface of my apartment, either.
I lean back in my chair, my thumb running across my jaw, and I shake my head; disappointed in myself.
“What?” she asks, noticing the change between us.
Knowing that I can’t tell her what I was vividly dreaming about, I think of something else. Except, just as I go to speak, my eyes shift over her shoulder out the glass window. My stomach flips, and my lungs squeeze at the sight of Officer Raleigh walking toward the entrance to the coffee shop.
My fingers tap against my knee, praying he hasn’t noticed us sitting here together. It’s too soon for him to know about us. Even though there isn’t an us yet, if my plan goes smoothly, there will be.
I keep my focus on his movement. My eyes follow him as he walks through the door. Suddenly, my body grows tenser the second the bell rings.
“Are you OK?” Summer asks.
I nod, but the metallic taste of blood hits my tongue from how hard I’m biting the inside of my cheek.
The sound of Raleigh’s boots shuffles closer. I shift in my seat, my blood rushing to the head. Summer’s eyebrows crease and, her mouth opens, ready to say something else, and I want nothing more than for her to, but her father’s deep voice cuts through the air.
“Summer.”
My muscles tighten, feeling his warm breath reach me from where he’s standing.
It takes every cell in my body to avoid looking at him. It’s certainly easy when Summer’s expression drops and the color drains from her face.
“Hi, Dad,” she says, putting a smile on her face and looking at him.
From the corner of my eye, I can see him staring at me. I can feel it.
“Go home, Summer.”
The crease between her eyebrows deepens. “What?”
Raleigh’s head turns to hers slowly. “I said. Get. Home. Now.”
I watch the roll of Summer’s throat as she swallows, her eyelashes fluttering. “I’m having coffee with my friend.”
His mouth forms a thin line, and I’m officially highly uncomfortable but oddly amused. When he looks back at me, I finally make eye contact and smile.
I wish I could explain to myself why I smiled.
I lean back a little as his arm reaches around his back, but I am relieved to only see him pull out his wallet. Though, I wouldn’t put it past him to grab his gun. He flips his wallet open, pulls out a few bills, and drops them on the table.
“This is a family matter. Home. Now.” His voice became increasingly louder, and my jaw twitches at how he is speaking to his daughter.
Summer takes a deep breath and looks at me apologetically before standing, leaving her coffee on the table. She smiles, and then she’s gone within the blink of an eye. It makes me feel some way, and it’s not anger.
Raleigh waits a few minutes, making sure Summer isn’t in sight. When he knows she isn’t, he adjusts his belt and cups his hand over his gun, making sure that I notice. Then he dips his head low enough that I can smell his breath. My teeth clamp together, cringing.
“Alec Sokolov.”
I turn my head slowly, my lips pinching together. “Officer Dickhead.”
He chuckles, coming closer. “Stay the fuck away from my daughter.”