Chasing the Sun Read online

  “Pretty good. I think I’ll be fine by next week.” He kept his tone casual, very casual.

  He was pretty sure Trey was in the dark and the guilt gnawed at him. He didn’t want her to know about the sex part, but he felt he was lying by omission. Trey was just his friend, but women got their feelings hurt about things like that and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Trey. Not that he thought she wanted to have sex with him again. She’d made it very clear that their shared orgasm was a one time event.

  “I haven’t seen you at the bar. Have you been practicing every night?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Does that mean your gonna sing one with her?”

  “If it’s ready I might.” He slid into the water and turned towards her, leaning his chin on his arms. Trey had a magazine on her lap and a large jug of water in her hand. She raised her large white sunglasses onto the top of her head so they were surrounded by her wild nest of dark curls. He let himself admire her small nose and high cheek bones…long lashes around light green eyes. She really was pretty.

  “I hope so, Ian. And just think, you don’t live here, so even if you screw the pooch you never have to see them again.” She flashed him an innocent smile and he splashed her violently, causing her to screech and jump to her feet.

  “Don’t you know better than to fuck with a Jewish girl from Texas?” She threw her shades to the side and ran towards him. She launched herself over his head. Her small cannonball was surprisingly effective, he thought as he wiped the chlorinated water from his eyes.

  Right when she broke the surface and caught a breath he dunked her. She swam in the opposite direction and came up again.

  “Ian Radcliffe, you’re an asshole!” she said, laughing.

  She started coughing and Ian came to her and thumped her upper back roughly.

  “Can you breathe?” he yelled, continuing his assault. She turned and shoved him in the chest. When she went in for another shove he grabbed Trey’s wrists and pulled her to him.

  Her skin was slippery and cool. Her breath was heavy from their water aerobics making her chest heave, which pressed her lusciously full tits into his chest. He was a guy, there was no way not to notice. A drop of water trickled down her cheek and he watched it plummet from her chin. He was close enough to notice there was water clinging to her full lashes making them seem like they were dipped in ink.

  Her breathing slowed and she pulled her top lip between her teeth.

  “Are you finished?” he asked.

  She nodded silently. He wanted to pull her between his legs and press his now hard ridged shorts into the soft fabric of her bikini bottoms. He wanted to lick the beads of water clinging to her bottom lip. He loosened his grip and she pulled free. Trey had a strange look on her face, the kind where he could tell her mind was going a mile a minute, but before he could think another thought, Trey ducked underwater and swam towards the corner.

  “Men are so predicable,” she said over her shoulder as she climbed the steps, laughed and shook her head.

  What the hell?

  He laughed back, trying to save a little face. He was going to have to stay in the water a while. It was going to take a few minutes to fully “recover.”

  They’d gone inside to get out of their wet suits, each taking a turn in the bathroom. Ian had changed and walked into his bedroom to find his friend on her stomach, ankles crossed in the air, as she flipped pages in her trash mag.

  “Make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you an ice cold beverage?”

  She sniffed. “What? You can screw me on your couch, but I’m not allowed to lay on your bed? That’s just insulting.”

  Uh...

  “Ha! The look on your face. Classic.” She shook her head and looked back down at the page displaying some red carpet or other.

  Ian grabbed his pillow and walloped her on the back of the head, repeatedly.

  “Ouch! Shit, Ian. Stop!”

  “That’s what you get, you little brat.”

  “Okay, okay. Mercy!” was her muffled reply.

  “You done messing with me?”

  Silence.

  Whap. Whap. Whap

  “I’m done, I’m done…God, so touchy. Sheesh, make one awkward sexual encounter reference and all hell breaks lose.”

  He pulled the braid that now held her hair and plopped down beside her.

  “Don’t you have to be at work tonight?”

  “Yeeees, and I don’t wanna.”

  “You want me to come in and keep you company?” Ian asked.

  “What? And miss a night with Miss Aurora Monroe?”

  “Jealousy is not slimming,” he teased, earning him a quick punch in the ribs. “And no, she has plans.”

  Trey gave him a look out of the corner of her eye. “Hmmm, very interesting.”

  “What, hmmm? What’s interesting?” he asked.

  “Oh nothing, just an observation.”

  “You’re deranged, you know that.”

  “Very aware, thank you.” She turned, leaning on her hand, her face serious. “Just don’t sleep with her, okay. She has a tendency to sleep around and not stick around, if that makes sense. I know you just got over someone and I would hate to see you get hurt again.”

  “Trey, I’m a big boy…as you know.” Eyebrow wiggle. “I’m not looking for anything serious, so whether or not I sleep with her is a non-issue.” He felt like he should tell her, but then decided against it. It was between he and Rory. Trey would just make a big deal of it, which it wasn’t.

  He thought about Rory when he wasn’t with her, and the sex was amazing, but he wasn’t falling for her or anything.

  “I just worry about you. You wear your heart on your sleeve and I would hate for a man-eating harpy to hurt you again.”

  He laughed. “I thought you liked Rory?”

  “I do. I just know how she is. Guys fall for her all of the time, but never last. Well except the ones that treat her poorly. I’m serious. Like I said before, you’re not her type.”

  I was her type last night, twice.

  “Trey, I can handle it.”

  “So you have slept with her?”

  “No.” The lie fell from his lips before he could consider the consequences. He was going to take it back, but Trey seemed so relieved by the erroneous statement that he bit his tongue. He would come clean later.

  “Good. Now before I have to go and dodge the advances of drunken patrons will you do me a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  She rolled off of the bed and walked over to the stand holding his guitar.

  “Play me a song from your garage band days. One of your favorites…Pleeeaaase.” She bunched her hands on the side of her face and batted her lashes.

  When she knew she’d won she clapped her hands and grabbed it. She sat down cross legged on the bed and held it out in front of her. One song came to mind after a few minutes of contemplation, “Nutshell.” Without a word, he plucked and turned the pegs. When tuned, he began to strum. His fingers moving rhythmically, teasing the strings into playing the opening chords. When he added his rich baritone the ache and melancholy of the song filled the room. Trey sat straighter, watching him. His eyes were closed, the muscles in his forearm shifted as he played.

  The last note hung in the air and then silence reigned.

  Ian raised his eyes and smiled. Trey had a strange look on her face and there was a sheen to her eyes. She stood quickly and kissed him on the top of the head. “That was beautiful, thank you.” She walked out into the living room.

  Ian set his guitar down and followed her.

  “I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Ian called, bothered by her abrupt departure.

  “I’ll save you a seat.”

  She put her bag on her shoulder and left.

  He just didn’t get women, he didn’t think he ever would. If men were from Mars, then women were from some fucked up planet where their moods changed at will.

  Chapter Eighteen

&n
bsp; She wore two braids and a dress with small flowers. Her legs were skinny and a pair of bright white sandals covered her feet. She stood in front of the class with her hands clasped in front of her stomach, her eyes on the linoleum floor.

  “Class, we have a new student,” Mrs. Hardin, their elderly third grade teacher, announced. She was probably only in her fifties, but she might as well have been Grandma Moses as far as a bunch of eight-year-olds were concerned.

  “This is Lena Hamilton. She just moved here from Nebraska. Please do your part to make her feel welcome.” She turned to Lena, took her by the shoulders and walked her to the empty desk in the back left corner of the classroom. Right in front of the Benjamin Franklin projects that were posted on the wall.

  Ian noticed the energy in the room shift. Two little girls whispered in the front row, a soft giggle came from one of them. Abi Reynolds. She was a little curly red-haired girl that was probably mean right out of the womb. He heard a snide remark about her glasses from one of his buddies that sat behind him. Ian was uncomfortable, this new little girl was obviously scared and shy. He wondered why they were unkind without even knowing her.

  Mrs. Hardin started to prattle on about verbs. Ian was jolted from his daydream when the bell rang for lunch which was followed by recess. These two events were the great equalizers for a young kid. You could be shunned into pariah-ville in the cafeteria— forced to sit alone, eyes on the table as you chewed your PB&J. And one could only hope to be ignored on the playground, where the weakest of the herd were separated and eliminated. That was blacktop warfare and he was worried about little Lena Hamilton. She had baby gazelle written all over her.

  Ian was with a few friends, they were playing basketball on the blacktop when sure enough he heard crying. He threw the ball to Jeremy Teasley, trying his best to ignore the sniffs.

  “I’ll be back.”

  He walked into the shade where Lena sat on the ground, dirt on her pale knee.

  “You okay?”

  She didn’t answer at first. She sniffed and cleaned her glasses on the bottom of her dress.

  “Yeah, I’ll be all right,” she said her voice sure.

  “Which one pushed you?”

  “I think it was the tall one.” Lena said, wiping her eyes with her arm. “They made fun of my dress and then the tall one had a very original four eyes comment.”

  He laughed. This girl was tougher than she looked and he liked how she talked. She was different, in a good way.

  “I’m Ian.” He offered his hand and helped her stand up. She brushed off the front of her dress and stood tall for the first time that he’d noticed.

  “Lena.”

  “Don’t let those jerks get to you. They’re mean to everybody, even each other. You see that girl over there with the purple shirt?” Ian pointed towards a group of girls, one hanging from a metal bar, her braids dangling towards the dirt below.

  “I see her.”

  “Well, that’s my neighbor, Jennifer, and she’s pretty nice. Go play with them.”

  Lena took a deep breath and started to walk in that direction. She’d taken a few steps when she stopped and turned back.

  “Hey, thanks.”

  “No problem.” He watched as she approached the jungle gym where Jennifer and her two friends played. They stopped and smiled as Lena spoke. Then they all started to play together, one yelled “you’re it!”

  Satisfied, he went back to join his pals. Of course they made fun of him and asked if he was in love with the new girl. Ian just ignored them and took a shot from the outside.

  ❖❖❖

  Ian’s anxiety was mounting with every passing minute. Trey could handle herself. That’s what he kept thinking. The last thing he wanted was to do anything that might hurt her tips, but this guy, some boner in a polo and white shorts, kept getting in her face. She was obviously upset by something he just said, but she controlled her facial expression. Ian knew his friend, and she was two seconds away from either crying or punching this guy in the face. The other girl working the bar, Megan, went over and whispered something in Trey’s ear. She shook her head in response to the whisper, so Megan walked back to her end. Ian was close enough to hear that the guy’s voice was raised, but not close enough to hear the conversation.

  Just as he was about to step in Trey stormed off down the dark hallway leading to the bathrooms. He felt a bit relieved that she was finally taking a break from that asshole, but his relief vanished when he saw said asshole go in the same direction. That had Ian pushing off of his stool.

  Megan called to him, “You got this? Or do I need to grab Willy?” The large, house sized bouncer would have probably been the best call, but he shook his head at the suggestion.

  “I got it.”

  There was no one in the hallway, so he stuck his head inside the women’s one stalled bathroom.

  No Trey.

  His heart was pounding in his chest. His protective instincts had kicked into high gear. If that guy laid a hand on Trey, Ian was going to kick the shit out of him.

  The door that led to the alley behind the bar beckoned to him. It was slightly ajar, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. The staff went out there to smoke and clear their heads.

  Ian burst through the heavy metal door and looked around. He heard her before he saw her—he ran toward the sound of her voice and turned the corner to the side of the building She was yelling at that guy, who had her boxed in, her back to the red brick.

  The guy was yelling too and he was trying to lift her shirt. She slapped his hands, he thrust himself into her.

  “Hey! Get your fucking hands off her!”

  The guy turned towards Ian and stepped back. Trey took the opportunity to push him out of the way and make her escape. He stumbled and fell to the ground.

  She ran to him with tears in her eyes and he scooped her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist and cried.

  Ian pulled back and brushed the messy curls from her face. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. I got you…did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head and burrowed back into him.

  “No, he just scared me is all.” Her voice was teary and muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

  Ian kissed her forehead and walked over to the guy as he was starting to stand.

  “What the fuck!” Ian shoved his shoulders. “You touch her again—you even look at her again—I will end you. You got that.”

  “Fuck off, dick. I can do what ever I want, and have.” The guy had the nerve to smirk.

  Ian punched him in the face, hard. The guy grabbed his nose and swore. He looked up. Blood was coming out of the cracks between his fingers.

  “Drake, just leave,” Trey said.

  She knew this asshole?

  “You’re not worth it, you Jew bitch.” He spat blood with a sneer.

  Wrong thing to say.

  Ian went to pummel him and Trey grabbed his arms from behind.

  “Please, stop. He’s not worth it. Think of your job, Ian. You don’t want to get arrested because of this trust fund piece of shit.”

  “It’s not like I could take you home to my parents anyway. You were a hot little lay, though.” This guy didn’t know when to shut up.

  “You heard the lady, mutha fucker.” Willy’s large dark hand circled the back of Drake’s neck. “And if you ever come back in here you’ll be pulling that silver spoon out of your ass. You got me?”

  Drake wasn’t as stupid as he looked because he ripped away from Willy, wiped his face with the side of his hand, and spit in Trey’s direction before finally walking away muttering about a law suit.

  “Trey, you okay, baby girl?”

  She smiled and nodded. “I’m okay, thanks, Willy.”

  “Anytime…Ian,” he said and lifted his chin. That was the most approval he’d ever get from Willy and he’d take it.

  After Willy disappeared around the corner Ian pulled Trey back into a strong hug.

  “That scared the shit out of me. How d
o you know that asshole?”

  Trey pulled away and grabbed his pinkie as they walked back to the alley behind the bar. “I used to date him…He was charming and smart, but a really bad drunk. One night, a few months into our relationship, he’d had a few too many and I said I didn’t want to have sex with a drunk. He tried to force himself on me anyway, said I was there to be fucked. I split his lip and told him to stay away from me. He wasn’t even that good in bed,” she admitted, taking her hair down, only to twist it back up. “That night I realized he thought I was beneath him—his dirty little secret.”

  “This is the first time I’ve seen him since then. He came in tonight trying to get me back. I told him to go fuck himself. I guess he’s not used to rejection.”

  “He called you a Jew bitch. What does you being Jewish have to do with anything?”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised. It doesn’t matter that I’m an agnostic who hasn’t seen inside a synagogue since my bubby died, and it’d been ten years before that. But look at me, I’m the antithesis of a WASP.”

  “That’s complete bullshit. It’s the 21st century, for fuck sake.” Ian shook his head. “Trey, should I be worried about this guy? Maybe you need a restraining order.”

  “Nah, Willy scared him good. He’s probably changing his name brand boxer briefs as we speak.” She laughed and pulled the back door open. He put his hand in her arm, the concern on his face was etched in his furrowed brow.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “No worries, handsome…and thanks for coming to my rescue.”

  “Anytime.”

  He always stuck up for his friends.

  Chapter Nineteen

  They’d finished up their last rehearsal. Ian was a little excited about playing on stage, but that was all on Rory. She made him feel confident. When she sang his fingers had a mind of their own. Her passion was contagious and intoxicating, which might have been the reason he’d bunched her long skirt around her waist and took her against the wall. He didn’t have the patience to go the extra five feet to her bedroom. Eventually they’d made it to her bed for the second round.

  Rory was laying on her stomach between his legs. The only barrier was a thin white sheet. Her hair wild, she looked like a jungle cat eyeing her prey. The moonlight was shining off her back. She never bothered covering up, nudity seemed like just another state of dress for her. She was running her fingers up and down the muscled ridge of his thigh and down to his kneecap, a wistful look on her face.