Authors: Melissa Toppen
Tags: #Romance, #two hearts, #Erotica, #breathless series, #New York CIty, #ohio, #Sex
I can't help but smile at the memory. Of Kyle laughing and cursing the whole time. That was a good day. I just wish I had known that less than a year later, Kyle would be gone. There's so many things I would have done differently. Moments I would have treasured more, fights I would have avoided because they really weren't important. I would have memorized the way it felt to be held in his arms. The way his voice sounded when he told me he loved me. I would have made love to him instead of insisting that I wasn't ready.
I never expected that a graduation party at “The Gulch” would turn out to be the day that forever changed my life. I remember whining the whole way that I didn't want to go. Kyle was leaving for college in just a few short weeks and I wanted to spend every moment we could together before our year of separation. Looking back now, I think I just knew something wasn't right. I tried to be a good sport about it but deep down I felt really uneasy the entire time.
“You okay?” Emma's voice pulls me from the memory, causing me to jump a little, having not heard her approach.
“Yeah.” I manage to get out without facing her. “Just thinking.” I say, reaching out to sit the photo on my bedside table. While I don't remember bringing it with me, I can't help but feel like it's here for a reason. It doesn't seem fair to hide his beautiful face inside a box. I swipe at the tears rolling down my cheeks and try to compose myself.
“I'm gonna order some Chinese. You want some?” She asks, still standing in my doorway.
“Yeah sure, whatever is fine.” I try to sound casual as I continue to pull things from my last box. I don't hear Emma walk away but when I finally turn in her direction, she's no longer there.
I busy myself breaking down boxes and then pile them in the hallway before taking a look at my finished product. My bed is now dressed with gray sheets and a deep purple comforter. Matching sheer curtains line the windows. There's a few framed pictures on my dresser. One of my mom and dad, one of me and my brothers when we were young, and then one of me, Emma and Carver on campus Sophomore year. And then of course, the one of me and Kyle now sitting on my bedside table. It isn't much more than when I started but it's something. For now, it's home.
I spend the remainder of the evening curled up in the living room with Emma, eating extremely too much fried rice and watching re-runs of “Two and Half Men”. Carver finally gets home from work a little after eight and after a quick fifteen minute catch up on our week apart, we all settle into a comfortable silence. Emma sprawled out on the end of the couch, me curled into Carver's side, all three of us laughing constantly over the ridiculousness of the show and the funny banter between the two brothers.
I take a moment to appreciate the simplicity of it all. Of how uncomplicated and easy the relationship is between the three of us and how there aren't two other people on the planet that I feel more comfortable with.
While I had a lot of reservations about coming to New York, I am quickly realizing that this may be the best decision I have ever made. No one gets me like Emma. No one makes me laugh like Carver and I have the comfort of knowing that Alec is only a few miles away.
In a city of millions, I can be anyone I want to be. Maybe, just maybe, I'll learn how to be me again.
––––––––
M
y first week in the city goes by in a blur. There are so many things to see and places to visit that I feel like I will never get to it all. While the main point of my exploring has been to drop off my manuscript to some local agencies, I couldn't resist the temptation to see my new home.
While I hope to make a living on writing novels, I know what a slow process that can be and deciding I really need an income coming in while I wait, I decide to stop at a small little bar a block away from my apartment with a 'Now Hiring' sign hanging in the front window before heading home.
Vitos
is what Emma would call a 'dive' bar. Not that I have ever really understood what qualifies a bar as 'dive' or 'normal' but this place certainly is nothing fancy. The establishment resides in a run down, three story brick building. I can't be sure but it looks like the top two floors act as apartments or maybe even office space, though I can't imagine why anyone would want to live or work above a bar.
When I push my way through the heavy wood door, I am greeted by an old musty smell and the lights are so dim, it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust. The space is small, not tiny, but certainly not spacious. There's a carpeted area at the front that houses several round top tables and bar stools. Past that, there is a tiled dance floor and then a small stage that sits along the back. The walls are draped in deep red fabric and random framed posters are scattered throughout the space. There's definitely a rock edge to it and it reminds me of some of the bars I have ventured to in the past. The kind where the really good underground rock bands play.
I make my way to the left where a long bar that stretches the length of the room sits. Sliding into one of the stools, I am greeted immediately by a bartender.
“What can I get you?” His deep voice invades my ears and I'm so busy taking in the scenery, for a moment I completely forget why I'm even here. He's attractive. Maybe late twenties with dark spiked hair and sky blue eyes. His toned arms are sleeved in various tattoos and he's dressed casually in a black t-shirt and faded jeans.
“I.... I wanted to inquire about a job.” I manage to stutter out.
He cocks his head to the side and gives me a wide smile revealing two matching dimples that really make him drool worthy, as if he wasn't already. I mean, he's not even close to my type but that doesn't mean I'm blind.
“Server job has been filled.” He answers, his voice laced with apology. “Unless you play.” He tacks on.
“Play?” I question, having no idea what he's referring to.
“Yeah, as in music.” He says, gesturing towards the stage. “We're looking for someone to play nights Sunday through Wednesday.”
I peer over at the stage and then back to the bartender. Just days ago I wouldn't even be considering this but right now, I can't help but feel excited about the idea of playing music for real. I have been doing it for years. Of course, that's always been behind closed doors and never in front of a real audience. I wouldn't say I have stage fright but my music has always been about me, not about performing for other people. That's more Emma's style.
“So do you?” He asks, his eyebrow shooting up in question.
“I do actually.” I answer. “Guitar.” I clarify.
“You sing?” He asks, resting his elbows against the bar.
“I do. I'm not the best at it but I can carry a decent tune.” I say.
“Sweet. Well, auditions are Sunday afternoon. Be here by one and you'll need to bring your own equipment and have two songs prepared. I'm Jake by the way.” He says, reaching his hand across the bar. I take it, giving it a light shake before answering.
“Grace.” I say, pulling my hand away.
“Well Grace, I hope to see you Sunday then.” He says, nodding at a nearby customer holding up an empty glass.
I nod and he gives me another dimple filled smile before turning his attention to the impatient man at the end of the bar. I walk out of
Vitos
feeling a little light headed honestly. I don't know what is going on with me but there is something about this city that makes me want to do things I've never wanted to do before.
Coming here, I promised myself that I would take more risks. That I would live my life for me and no one else. Well, what better way to do just that then to put myself out there in ways that I never have before.
I don't even make it to my apartment before I realize that I don't have a guitar. I have no idea what instrument prices are here but I very much doubt that I can spare the money to buy one. Having just over three thousand dollars I saved from working at the bookstore in Oxford, my can spend fund is pretty much non existent.
Pulling out my iPhone, I click on my contacts and hit Alec's name. While I hate asking anyone for money, Alec is the one person that I know will loan it to me, no questions asked. The line rings several times before he voice mail finally picks up.
“Hey Alec, it's me. I have a favor. Call me when you have a minute to talk.” I say before ending the call.
I round the corner to my apartment building, my head swimming with new possibilities and new adventures and I barely have time to react when I almost collide with someone coming the opposite direction around the corner.
“Sorry.” I skid to the side just in time to miss the collision. I flick my eyes upwards, expecting to find a complete stranger staring back at me. What I don't expect to see is Zayne staring at me wide eyed and clearly caught off guard with a little blonde bimbo attached to his side. My stomach twists and I feel like my heart is in my throat. What are the odds in a city this large that I would run into him, in front of my apartment of all places? I'm starting to believe that I have really pissed someone off somewhere in the universe.
“Oh hey.” I breathe out, trying to seem as casual as possible, feeling anything but.
This man is so beautiful, it damn near hurts to look at him. He looks like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine, dressed in a black suit with a blazing blue tie that pulls out the color in his eyes. I'm not used to seeing him dressed so professionally and I have to admit, it's more than I can bare.
My god, was this man created in a factory? Real people do not look like this. Real people are full of imperfections and flaws but not Zayne. Everything about him is perfect and as much as I want that to irritate me, it doesn't. It only makes me want him more.
My eyes immediately travel to woman with a death grip on his arm. She gives me a tight smile and tosses her perfect blonde locks over her shoulder. She's exactly what I would expect to see Zayne with. Tall, curvy but not too curvy, long shiny blonde hair, fake boobs and high heels that are so tall it's a wonder she can even stand in them. Tack on the little red dress that barely covers a quarter of her body and she just about sums up the definition of a floozy. Hell, she might as well have 'Tramp' stamped across her forehead.
“Grace.” He says, nodding at me. “What are you doing here?” He asks, while the bimbo on his arms huffs, clearly annoyed that I am interrupting whatever it is they were doing.
“I live here.” I say, pointing to the ten story brick building just feet from where we are standing. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something else but then my cell phone rings, cutting him off.
I look at the screen before turning my attention back to him. “Sorry this is Alec, I gotta get this. It was good to see you.” I say, walking away with a small wave. I don't look back at him as I high tail it up the stairs to the main entrance of my apartment building and hit answer on the incoming call.
“Alec. Hey.” I get out, already breathing a little heavy as I truck up another flight of stairs. Our apartment is on the fifth floor and while there is an elevator, I prefer the stairs, at least that way I can get a tiny bit of exercise on a daily basis. Lord knows I don't run and I have never been to a gym a day in my life.
“Hey baby girl. You all settled?” He asks, the familiar fatherly tone in his voice making me smile.
“I am. Everything is going well. Look, the reason I called is because I need to buy something but I'm a little short on funds at the moment. You know how much I hate to ask but I was hoping you could loan me a little money, just for a few weeks until I can start working.” I say, finally climbing the last flight of stairs.
“You know that no explanation is needed Gracie. If you need something it's yours. Besides, I have been looking for an excuse to take you to lunch.” He says, laughing lightly.
“You do realize you don't actually need an excuse right?” I joke, pushing my way into my apartment. The lights are off and it doesn't appear that anyone is home. Being just after five on a Friday, I expect Carver is still at work. Emma on the other hand, I'm not sure. I know she had some things she needed to do before her big audition on Monday so she's probably out doing whatever that is.
“When do you need the money by?” He asks, bringing me back to the conversation.
“Well, that's the thing. I kind of need it like now. Would lunch tomorrow be too short of notice?” I ask on a laugh.
“No, I have some work to get done but I can squeeze you in.” He says playfully. “Do you need me to pick you up?” He asks.
“No, I can drive there. Text me the address and time and I will see you then.”
“Okay baby girl. I'll see you tomorrow.” He says, ending the call without saying goodbye, something he has always done that drives me absolutely insane. Who does that? I sigh, locking my phone and tossing it onto my bedside table before flopping down on my bed.
My phone conversation with Alec gave me a few minutes of distraction from my unexpected run in with Zayne and now the entire encounter is playing over and over again in my mind. Why is it that the one person I want to avoid more than anyone else is the one person I happen to run into within a week of being in one of the largest cities in the world?
I have rotten ass luck. Then tack on the blonde bimbo and I officially feel like I have been sucker punched directly in the gut. I can only imagine where they are headed. If I had to guess, I would say that he will be taking her up against a wall somewhere in the very near future and she will probably keep those damn heels on the entire time.
The thought makes me more than a little nauseous and I search for a way to distract myself. I grab my iPod and start scowling through my playlists. I need to figure out what songs to play for my audition on Sunday. I still can't believe I am even considering this but given my need for money and the close proximity of the bar, I don't really have much of a choice.
Besides, it seems like a pretty quiet place and I can't see it getting too much business on week nights. And I definitely will not be telling anyone that I will be singing there. It's one thing to sing in front of complete strangers, most of which I will never see again. Singing in front of people I know, well that's a different story entirely.