Rocked (2 page)

"…nothing like it. The comedown is rough but you can stay up for a week."

He looked at me and I returned the gaze, blankly. "Um, yeah. But I won't bore you with my stories anymore."

"No!" I cried out, a little too loud. "I mean you're not boring. I'm being rude."

He grinned that wide, lopsided smile again and my knees actually felt week.

"I understand. And sorry for talking your ear off. It's just…I don't get to talk like a normal person much lately."

I gave up on my pathetic attempt to play it cool and went to stand in front of him. Behind me I could hear Darrell washing dishes and scraping down the grill, which was my job. What the hell? Must have been my lucky night. Hot friendly guy in the place and getting to skip my least favorite chore? Nice.

"So how come you don't get to talk like a normal person?"

"Well, you know," he replied, running his fingers through his hair. It was drying in spiky cowlicks all over his head. Kind of adorable. "Ever since the single things are pretty wild."

He looked embarrassed for some reason I couldn't fathom.

"Yeah, I can see that." I actually had no clue what he was talking about but didn't want him to think I wasn't paying attention. Again. So I just played along and nodded.

There was an awkward silence and I watched him fidgeting with his fork, noticing his beautiful hands again. "Are you done? Want something else to eat?"

"Nah. Hey, since it seems pretty quiet in here, why don't you come sit by me? We can talk some more and you don't have to feel like you need to keep serving me stuff."

I looked over my shoulder into the kitchen but my boss was turned the other way, writing something. Probably inventory notes for the morning shift. "Hmm, okay. For a minute." I walked around the counter, smoothing down my apron and climbed up on the stool next to Joe.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

He turned to face me and I couldn't help notice how tight his jeans were. And artfully distressed. "Anything. Tell me about your day. Or night, I guess. Anything interesting happen? Weird orders? A regular who loves strawberry sauce and peanut butter on his burgers or something?"

I laughed, finally relaxing, and told him the few fun stories I had from the night shift. Most involved people falling asleep in their food and cops getting emergency calls while stopping in for coffee, but Joe seemed to like them just fine. He kept his eyes trained on mine as I spoke, giving me all of his attention. It made me blush and smile.

Before I knew it we'd been talking for hours. Or rather, I had. After I ran out of diner stories I'd told him about my family, moving out on my own, high school stories and summarized the plots of the last three books I'd read. Joe had piped in with questions and comments occasionally but whenever I tried to steer the conversation to his life instead of mine he deflected it. It felt nice to have someone listen to me, if a little strange.

I was in the middle of explaining my favorite method of getting the first slice out of a pie cleanly when the morning staff of the diner walked in, their customary banter loud and jarring in the early morning. Joe seemed uncomfortable as soon as they entered and he reached into his pocket and dropped some money on the counter as one of the dishwashers eyed him strangely.

"Guess I better go. Thanks for the grub. And the company." He grinned and walked out.

I'd wanted to say something—anything—but didn't get the chance. I was surrounded by my co-workers and their chattering.

Still in a daze I finished my work, clocked out and left, the sun rising as I said goodnight. In the light the entire night felt like a dream. But as I rounded the corner there was Joe, leaning against the wall. He'd pulled on a pair of sunglasses so all I could see in his eyes was my own reflection. After such a long night my bedraggled appearance was not a welcome sight, even if he was. "Hey."

"Hi. Sorry for leaving like that but I uh, wasn't expecting a bunch of people to show up."

"No problem." I looked up at him and shrugged.

"Is your car parked nearby?"

"At my place. It barely runs and I live close."

"Okay, then maybe I can walk you home?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be? In bed?"

His face was inscrutable behind the glasses but the corners of his mouth quirked up a bit. "Don't I wish."

Joe held out his arm and I took it, leading him down the street towards my apartment. Once again I found myself questioning his comments. Like before it was off-handed but kind of flirty. And he had waited for me.

I decided to stop torturing myself and just see what happened. In the incredibly unlikely event he was flirting, it would become obvious. And if he was just lonely and looking for someone to talk to, that was fine. Better than fine. I wasn't exactly overwhelmed with friends lately. In the three years since high school it seemed someone else disappeared from my circle every week. Party invitations dwindled, nights out became quick coffees and I spent more time with Darrell than anyone else in my life. Even one night of pleasant conversation with Joe was worth it.

We walked along, arm-in-arm in silence for a while. Then Joe asked me a question about the name of the street we were crossing and I found myself explaining the history of the neighborhood, from the shipyard that had closed when I was a kid to the clubs and bars that had been steadily leaving the area for the past few years. Aside from the small concert hall and a jazz club a few blocks up, the once hip neighborhood had become quiet and rundown. Which was the only reason I could afford to live there, but still. It was kind of sad.

Once again we'd passed a lot of time with mostly me talking. When we finally reached my building I didn't want to stop. Usually I hit the front steps exhausted from the night and barely able to drag myself upstairs. But with Joe I was energizes and a little hyper.

"This is me," I said, unwinding my arm from his.

"Oh." He looked up at the crumbling brick façade. "Nice building."

I snorted. "No it isn't. But it's safe and clean and cheap."

He nodded. "And close to work."

I found myself staring at his mouth and chin while he talked. There was a little cleft in it I hadn't noticed before. Super sexy.

"Huh? Oh yeah, close to work. Right."

"Right." Joe shoved his hands in his pockets and his shirt rode up, revealing a strip of smooth skin I wanted to run my tongue across.

That thought screaming in my head, I blurted, "See ya!" like a total dork and started climbing the stairs.

But before I made it two steps he was next to me again. He grabbed my face and turned me to him, planting a kiss on my lips. It started soft but grew deeper when I stopped moving away. My lips parted and he took it as an invitation. Joe's tongue touched mine and I gasped. Reflexively I returned the kiss and sagged close to him, lost in the moment. My hands landed on the waistband of his jeans and we stood there in front of the just starting to wake neighborhood exploring each other's mouths.

The sound of a trash truck going by jolted me back to reality and I pulled away, breathless. I guess that answered the flirting or not question after all.

Joe looked nervous and it somehow gave me confidence.

"Wanna come up?" I asked quietly.

"Love to."

I pulled out my keys and he took my other hand. We went into my building and held hands the whole way. Only when we were inside my tiny studio apartment did he release me.

Joe flung his sunglasses onto a table and circled the room.

Suddenly shy again I tried to read his mind from facial expressions. "See? Not much going on here."

"It's small but really nice, Liss. Warm and comfortable. Exactly what I'd expect your place to be like."

It warmed
me
to know he'd been thinking about what my apartment would look like. I gestured at one of the chairs next to my miniscule table. "Have a seat. Want something to drink?"

Joe grabbed my hand as I went to go by him into the kitchen. He spun me around and pulled me close enough to smell him. A hint of sweat under soap. Delicious.

"You've served me enough today, Liss. Relax."

I looked up into his eyes and my whole body tensed in a wonderful way. This time I kissed him. Picking up where we left off downstairs there was no shyness or questioning. Our lips parted and tongues danced together.

Joe pulled me tight against his body and I could feel every muscle in his long, lean form. His arms wrapped around my waist and I sighed into his mouth, gripping the back of his shirt. The kiss deepened and he nibbled at my lower lip before sucking my tongue back into his mouth. His hands slid down over my butt, yanking me still closer. Joe's heart thudded in his chest against mine. His arousal ground against me and I ran my hands up his back, beneath the shirt. His skin was soft and warm under my fingers.

We careened away from the center of the room and over to my single bed in the corner. I said a brief thanks for whatever inspired me to make the bed before leaving for work as we tumbled down in a mass of arms and legs. Joe pulled me on top of him but I rolled to my side, not wanting him to bear my full weight.

His thigh was between mine and I snuggled closer, relishing the sensation. My hair fell into my eyes and covered both of our faces but I was too busy exploring the tight sheets of muscles in his back to do anything about it. Joe's fingers crawled up over my belly and then grazing the underwire of my bra.

Feeling the flat of his palm on my skin brought me back to reality and I broke off the kiss and squirmed backwards as far as possible.

"I'm sorry," he said breathlessly. "Too fast?"

Pulling my shirt down, I shook my head. "No, it's just…my stomach." I blushed and looked away.

Joe grunted. "Don't be stupid. Your body is amazing. I couldn't stop staring at you in the diner."

Really? "I didn't notice."

"I'm glad I was slicker than I thought about it, but yeah." His hand reached out to touch me. "God, Liss. You're gorgeous."

I licked my lips and finally met his gaze again. "You're not so bad yourself, Joe."

He smiled and scooted closer to me. There was blistering desire in his eyes. "Prove it."

His lips seared mine when they met. Any nerves about him touching my decidedly imperfect body disappeared and I gave myself over completely to making out with him. Within minutes my bra was unhooked and his shirt was on the floor somewhere. A line of tattoos snaked up his right arm over the shoulder and one looked just like the bird on his ring. I briefly considered asking about it as I ran my hands over his bicep but his fingers found my nipple at that moment and I decided it could wait. I moaned and arched my back, heat flaring brighter in my core.

Joe's lips slid down over my chin and throat, coming to rest where my pulse thundered under the skin. "I want so you much," he whispered against my neck.

I was about to reply when something under my hand vibrated. A second later rhythmic beeping sounded. "What's that?"

"My phone. Ignore it," he barked before kissing his way over my shoulder, pushing my shirt out of the way.

"Okay." And after it stopped making sounds his phone was forgotten.

Joe slid down my body and started kissing a line down my center until he came to the waistband of my jeans. His fingers gripped my hips and I moaned just as the phone rang again. He let loose a string of curses and yanked it from his back pocket, resting his chin right below my belly button and keeping his eyes on my face.

"What?" He paused, trailing fingers lightly up my arm, raising goosebumps. "No." The silkiness left his voice and he sat up, frowning. "Fine." He cast a glance at me and smiled tightly. It wasn't the freewheeling crooked grin I'd grown to adore so quickly, and I knew he was leaving. "All right. I'll get a cab and be there in a few minutes."

I pulled my knees up and hugged myself.

Joe hung up the phone and looked at me again. "I have to go."

"I figured."

"That was my manager. We have a thing that I forgot about and everyone's pissed." He stood up but then bent down to rub his stubbled cheek against mine. "Believe me when I say I'd rather stay with you all day." His hand grazed my breast and he sighed. "Really, really want to stay."

"I understand." I didn't.

He stepped away slowly and just stared at me for a long moment before grabbing his shirt and heading out the door. "Call me later, okay? We're staying at the Griffin Hotel."

"Okay," I said, and as the door shut behind him I collapsed into a heap of frustration.

I woke up a couple hours later still mostly dressed, incredibly uncomfortable and grumpy. I rolled over and looked around my apartment. When my eyes landed on Joe's sunglasses I smiled, wondering how soon I could call him so I could return them. Figuring he'd still be busy with whatever he was doing I decided to just find the phone number for the hotel. So it was convenient when I did call. Much later. Not at all immediately like the desperately smitten girl I was.

First I stripped down and put on a robe, piling my clothes into the over-full hamper. I turned my phone on and went to search for the Griffin Hotel. I copied the phone number down and clicked over to read emails, snuggling back into bed.

Nothing looked very interesting so I read some headlines and came across a news story about the club down the street from the diner. The article talked about the show last night, a surprise set from Dream Defiled, some local band whose new album was selling incredibly well. The gig was a real coup for the club, down on its luck since the area started going downhill. The writer seemed to think that one performance from the band on the cusp of fame could turn the whole neighborhood's luck around, which seemed silly to me. Hell, I'd never even heard of the group before. I searched for them, wondering what all the fuss was about and saw that I did know their music. The single, "Full Dark," was everywhere the past few weeks, and I was intrigued.

My heart stopped when I opened a link to their Wikipedia page. There was a picture of the group and right there in the middle, half turned away, familiar spiky hair and strong naked back, stood Joe. Joe Hawk. The lead singer and songwriter of Dream Defiled. Who'd just left my apartment. Who I'd been kissing and groping. Whose stubble had left red marks on my neck.