Hit Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Athletic Affairs) Page 4

  We both stood stock-still for a second, and then Darius glanced around, presumably to make sure that no-one from work had caught us. Nope, we were alone. He actually flushed- and backed away a few paces.

  “I should probably be getting home,” he mumbled, and I nodded, looking at the ground.

  “See you later,” I muttered in reply, and watched as he vanished back around the front of the building and out on to the street.

  I stepped into Dino’s and grabbed my apron from the rack, absently tying it around my waist. Shit. Had I just seriously fucked things up between us?

  I went about my usual chores, and tried to reason with myself- he’d kissed me just as much as I’d kissed him, after all. It was just a little peck- but it was the first time we’d so much as touched outside his apartment. I knew no-one had seen us, but still…the panic pulsed at the back of my mind, and I wondered what would happen if anyone found out that the two of us were together.

  Were we, though? Together? I had no idea, and the lines were getting more and more blurred between what I knew to be true and what we’d promised each other we wanted from this relationship. We’d agreed that this was going to be casual-- nothing serious, just some fun between co-workers after we fortuitously found ourselves in each other’s lives once again. But maybe Nina had been right, maybe there was something else going on here. I did my best to put her raised eyebrows and her unasked-for commentary on whatever we had, out of my head, but it was hard-I knew that what she had told me was getting closer and closer to coming true. And, beyond the fact that it would be proving her right, I didn’t want to admit it.

  The feeling of his lips on mine lingered on my skin, and I touched my fingers to my mouth as if trying to recreate it. Did I want him like this? He was bad news- the kind of guy my mom would have thoroughly disapproved of. But then…that was what made it hot in the first place. He was forbidden, a bad idea, a sure thing set to failure, but I had to try. I had to taste him, to try him out, to see how we went together and remind myself why our pieces would never slot together.

  And what I’d found was that I liked him. A lot. More than I thought I would. When I saw him in that ring six weeks ago, I’d already painted a picture of him in my head, convincing myself that he would be a cocky asshole who wasn’t worth the time of day. Yeah, he was hot, but so were a lot of guys, and most of them weren’t dragging around this kind of baggage.

  I kept him at arm’s length in my head. In doing so, I’d given him an in. If he wasn’t an option, then there was no harm trying him out, right? And that led to nights together, to days together. To the acknowledgement of the fact that I fucking liked Darius and that he was one of the sweetest, most thoughtful guys I’d ever come across in my life.

  Fuck it.

  I stepped out on the restaurant floor and made my way around the empty tables, setting out places and cutlery for the lunchtime rush. I knew I had walked into a mistake, the most obvious one I could have made -- of course I was going to fall for him, of course things were going to go too far. But for now, as long as I was here, I could play at being the girl I wanted to be -- removed, restrained, distant and independent. And I could pretend that I wasn’t falling hard for a guy I’d promised myself I never would.

  Chapter Four

  The gig came around fast and I met up with the group, The White Roses, not long after my shift was done that first day I got accepted. We practiced hard, and it felt good to have callouses on my hands again- I rubbed my fingertips together as I lay in bed the night before the gig and smiled to myself. Well, at least something good had come out of this whole Darius situation.

  My heart ached a little bit when I thought of him, and I wondered if I’d made the right choice in not contacting him since that inadvertent kiss we’d shared outside of work. We hadn’t been sharing any shifts together, so I actually hadn’t laid eyes on him since that day. I had been worried that he might try and get in contact with me, that he might get offended at my ghosting him, but I hadn’t heard a word.

  I wondered if he was going through the same thing I was. Maybe he’d walked away from that encounter and gone through the exact same thought process, convincing himself that we had gone too far and that it would be best for us if we took a step back and let things cool off for a while.

  The silence on both our ends seemed to indicate that we’d come to the same conclusion- that this was best left untouched, a reminder that sometimes it was all too easy to slip into routines that were far from casual with someone far from appropriate.

  Even though I was disappointed about the way things had turned out with Darius, I at least had something to keep my mind off of it. The gig was tomorrow night, and I had booked the evening off work in preparation. Nina was coming out to see me, and I couldn’t wait to be back up on the stage again. How long had it been? In months? I couldn’t even count anymore, and didn’t want to- I was too excited about getting what felt like another shot at a dream I’d long ago put on the back burner and forgotten about.

  My bass had dust on it when I heaved it out of the closet to take down to the rehearsal space, that’s how long it had been since I trusted myself to play. Every time I’d even glanced at one of my instruments, it would have felt like taunting myself to actually pick one up and play it knowing that I would probably never do so for an audience again.

  But now, here I was- back on the trail again. I did my best to shake the feeling that I would just be traipsing down another path that led to inevitable disappointment, and pulled myself out of bed the next morning with a giant, goofy smile on my face.

  We were heading along to the club where we were playing early, to get our sound checks down and give ourselves time to go over the set list one last time. I dressed quickly, trying to match my style to the preppy-hipster look I’d seen them all sporting in their live performances when I’d searched them online.

  Then I grabbed my bass, and headed out the door. Nerves danced through my veins, and I did my best to ignore the fact that I would be getting up in front of an audience in less than nine hours with a band I’d never played live with before.

  “Hey!” The guitarist, Sheena, was smoking a cigarette outside the venue when I arrived. She quickly tossed it aside and reached out to help me with my bass. “You look nice.”

  “Thanks,” I said, glancing down at my clothes- I had settled on a smart pair of tailored pants matched with a slouchy retro movie shirt and minimal jewelry. I thought I looked pretty cute.

  “How are you feeling? You nervous?” She held the door open for me and ushered me in.

  “Uh, yeah, a little,” I shrugged. “How many people do you normally get at gigs like this?”

  “A few hundred,” she replied. “Not many.”

  A few hundred? I tripped up over the number in my head. When it came to shows like this, the most I’d played for was maybe a hundred and fifty, and that was just because we were the warm-up act for a much bigger group. The thought of playing for a packed-out room, that was enough to send my nerves off into overdrive once again.

  We made our way backstage, and I found the rest of the band -- Taylor, Anna, and Joy lounging in one of the dressing rooms. They all seemed so relaxed and in-control, whereas I felt as though I might be found out at any minute and asked to leave, exposed as the barely-professional musician that I was. They all glanced up when I entered the room, and Taylor got to his feet and clapped his hands together.

  “So,” he glanced around the room as everyone else got to their feet, stretching and yawning and sighing. “Sounds check?”

  The rest of the day went so fast I could barely keep track of it- the sound check, the rehearsals, a break for dinner and drinks and then- we were due on. We were the main attraction that evening, and I sat in the dressing room and listened to the warm-up group finishing up. They were good-really good, in fact. I had found myself tapping my fingers on the windowsill in time with almost every one of their songs. Jesus, I hope no-one rumbled me tonight. I didn’t know
why it sprung into my mind, but I suddenly convinced myself that everyone would see me for what I was, a replacement, a stand-in, nothing more than a poor imitation.

  “Hey!” Joy waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my reverie and bringing me back to the real world. The cheer of the crowd was leaking through the walls as the support group finished up their act. It was time for us to go on.

  “Uh, sorry,” I muttered, and reached for my bass, looping the strap over my shoulders. The weight of it against my hips was comforting, and I gripped the neck and let the rest of them lead me out into the hall and then towards the stage beyond. Lights were pulsing just past the curtains, and the crowd was murmuring with anticipation. God, don’t let me fuck any of this up, I prayed to myself silently, my hands tightening around the wood of the bass. I needed this. The universe had been intent on dicking me over the last few weeks, so I at least deserved this to go well.

  And there it was -- all of a sudden, I was on the stage, clutching the bass to me as though it would protect me from the roaring crowd in front of me. The lights were blinding and pouring down straight into my eyes, enough that I could barely make out the figures in front of me. I could tell there were at least two hundred people crammed onto the club floor, all of them yelling with excitement at our arrival. I’d never had a reaction like this with any of the bands I’d played for, and before I knew it, adrenalin had taken over, and it swept me through the rest of the show.

  I did it- I fucking did it, even though the entryway through my brain was screeching with panic and nerves and worry that I was going to slip and miss a note and then the bass was going to catch fire or some shit. But I didn’t, and it didn’t, and before I knew it the gig was almost done- we were finishing up on our last song, a minor hit that had broken into the top one-hundred the year before.

  Everyone was singing along, and I could hardly believe that I was actually onstage for something like this instead of standing in the audience, having a great time and trying to convince myself that I wasn’t insanely jealous of everyone up on stage.

  And that, of course, is when I saw him.

  I wasn’t sure what drew my eye to Darius, standing in the audience like that- I hadn’t been able to pick out anyone in particular since I’d walked out of the wings. The lights were pulsing in time with the music, blue, red, pink and purple, and that was distracting enough without squinting into the crowd to pick out specific people. But all of a sudden, as we hit the first chorus, my eyes focused in on him and my heart bounced up in my chest.

  For a moment, my fingers froze on the frets on the guitar, and I had to remind myself where I was and what I was doing. If I fucked this up because of some guy, I would never forgive myself. I forced myself to drag my eyes away from him and focus on playing, determined to hit the last few notes and get this shit done.

  Before I knew it, the song was over, and we were bidding our goodbyes to the crowd before vanishing back into the wings. My heart was still beating in my chest as I made my way back to the dressing room, my hands shaking slightly- and I couldn’t help but wonder whether this was about the gig or about Darius.

  I knew he had seen me- he had been staring at me, and I wondered how long it had been since he’d taken his eyes from me. What was he doing here in the first place? That was the question. I mean, I knew he knew of the band through some of his friends, but was he close enough with them to come out to one of their gigs for support? It wasn’t like they needed to sell the pity-tickets anyway, the place would have been packed even if not one of their friends had bothered to make the effort that evening. So, was he here just because he liked the music? Or was it something to do with me?

  “That was awesome,” Joy sighed, twirling her drumsticks deftly between her fingers. “Been a long time since we played a gig that good.”

  “Yeah,” Taylor nodded, and he sneaked a look up at me. “What did you think?”

  “Uh, it was…um. Amazing,” I managed at last. I was having trouble keeping myself straight -- the hair on the back of my neck was still standing up, and the blood was rushing around my head.

  “You ever played to an audience that big before?” He asked, a cocky grin on his face. I finally met his gaze, my eyes focusing at last. I could still see the shape of the lights imprinted in the corners of my vision; and Darius’s face, his expression unreadable as he stood there in the crowd, swaying to the music.

  “Never,” I admitted. “I was pretty nervous.”

  “Well, you did great,” Joy assured me, cracking a beer and handing it to me. I took it gratefully, feeling like a bit of alcohol would take the edge off my prickling nervousness. For some reason, it was as though the panic that I should have had before the gig was finally catching up with me now. Or maybe it was just the knowledge that Darius was here somewhere, and that he might be here just to see me.

  “Thanks,” I sighed happily, plastering a smile on my face and raising my bottle to the rest of the room. “And thanks for having me. Looking forward to the next one!”

  We drank for a little bit, all of us unwinding as the crowd dispersed outside. I had assumed the group would head out to mingle with everyone, but they seemed all too happy to enjoy some peace and quiet. People after my own heart.

  “You want a lift home?” Taylor asked as we finished up our drinks. I shook my head and went to zip up my bass, heaving it over my shoulder.

  “I think I’ll walk,” I replied. “It’s not too far.”

  “If you’re sure,” he shrugged. “Just let us know when you’re back, okay.”

  “I will,” I nodded. As I stepped out of the dressing room and went to cut through the bar area to get out, I felt a few eyes on me. It was a weird sensation, knowing that people were paying attention to me. Usually, whenever I caught people looking at me, I would assume that it was because I looked like an ass or was acting like a dick without even being aware of it. Here, I was notable.

  I saw a couple of guys eyeing me suggestively, but I didn’t give a shit. I was high off my own success after tonight, and I didn’t need the validation of any hipster dude to make me feel any better about myself.

  Though I could do with one guy in particular. I looked around to see if Darius was kicking around, but there was no sign of him. I found myself a little disappointed. Even though I had promised myself that I would back off, and that him being here should have been off-putting, if it had been anything, the look on his face was burned into my mind. Why had he been here? I had to know. But if I contacted him, I would break the promise I made to myself to actually hold myself to a promise I made in my own head.

  The night was warm and busy, and I found myself winding in and out of the late-night crowds as I headed home. Surrounding myself with people seemed to be the best way to keep my mind off Darius, as I let myself get lost in little daydreams about what they were all up to. Soon enough, I found myself outside my apartment, and climbed the stairs exhaustedly before unhooking my bass and flopping into bed.

  I reached for my phone, which I had left on my bedside cabinet that morning. I had figured that if work suddenly decided they needed me in at the last minute, then if I didn’t have my phone with me I couldn’t feel guilty about dropping them. I checked my messages, and felt a small wave of relief when I saw that I didn’t have anything from them.

  There was another message, though -- one from Nina, apologizing and letting me know that she couldn’t make it out (I was hardly surprised- I hadn’t seen her anywhere, and knew she would have found a way to get herself backstage if she was.) She promised to come to the next one, however, and I raised my eyebrows slightly cynically and replied that it had gone well), and saw one from Darius. It had arrived maybe a half-hour before I got home, and I hovered my finger over it for a few seconds before I opened it.

  I should have just deleted it there and then, got rid of him once and for all. Yeah, he’d come out to support me when no-one else had, but that didn’t mean that I had to suddenly go back on everything I�
��d promised to myself.

  Who was I kidding? Curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped the message to open it.

  “You were amazing tonight,” the message read- followed by a single kiss. I stared at it for a moment, something in my chest swelling in response to his thoughtful text. Was this his way of trying to get back into my life? It had only been a week, after all. Why shouldn’t he reach out after something as big as this for me? I stared at the words, long enough that the letters started to dance around in front of my eyes. And then, before I had a chance to think any of it through, I replied.

  “Come over?”

  I followed it with my address, and pressed send. I didn’t want to talk myself out of this. It was one of the best nights of my professional life to date-- I knew that this was probably going to make things a hell of a lot more complicated in the long run, but I had to take a chance on him. I had to see if I could match the success with my music with my success with my lover.

  With Darius. I said his name aloud, letting the word trip off my tongue. Had I been too quick to jump back, to run away from what we had? Did I even really know what I wanted from him? I had no idea what the answer was to those questions, but, after a couple of beers and the searing adrenalin of appearing on stage once again, I needed something to burn off my excess energy. I needed someone to celebrate with. I needed him.

  I didn’t get a reply, and I assumed that he had already headed off to bed, or maybe to work to help with the close-up. I was just about to hop in a shower and go to bed when I heard the buzzer go; I froze, stark naked, my clothes piled up on the floor next to me. A dirty little thought skittered through my head, and a little smile flicked up the corners of my mouth. I sashayed over to the intercom, and tapped the button.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey,” Darius’s voice put goose bumps all up and down my arms- and other parts of my naked body.

  “Come on up,” I replied, pressing the button that unlocked the door and listening to his footsteps as he made his way up the steps towards my apartment. I took a deep breath as I heard him pause only a few inches from my door, and, in a rush of bravery, pulled it open.