Rock Hardest (Bad Boy Bandmates & Babies)

Night chill caressing my bare legs, I walked my e-bike out onto the road. I had strong views against riding on the sidewalk.

I looked up the pub’s address on my phone to confirm it a second time and make sure I wouldn’t get lost. It was late, so traffic was light, with rush hour only a distant memory by now.

I was early to arrive, thanks to my excitement about seeing Sven. Going while the getting was good, I got to the bar before there was major competition.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Vodka Gears and a Doktor Sleepless.”

“Both?”

“Yes.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

It sounded like something that would end up resulting in my funeral, but I knew what I was doing. You didn’t go to a school like Fricker’s without learning a thing or two about mixology.

After only a couple of minutes, the two drinks appeared side by side, electric green next to dark brown, both slightly bigger than a tumbler.

“Keep the change,” I told the bartender, feeling charitable.

To be fair, I hadn’t planned on drinking both. Just the Gears was for me, but if anything, they would cancel each other out if I did try them both— that was if the caffeine overdose didn’t kill me first.

“You’re early,” Sven said, appearing at my side and making my heart race.

“You too.”

“Great minds think alike,” he observed.

The rest of that saying was “fools seldom differ” but I abstained from telling him this. He was paying me a compliment, one that I was more than happy to accept.

“Table?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Taking a tumbler, I began to follow along after his potent table-finding powers.

He picked up the other one and said, “Wow, fancy.”

Once we reached our table, I took the glass I was holding and slid it into the space between us, next to the he had sat down.

“This is a Vodka Gears; it only looks nuclear. It’s actually just vodka with an energy drink.”

“That would explain the green.”

“Exactly.”

“And this?”

“Doktor Sleepless.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“It’s really just coffee and Kahlua.”

“Exotic.”

“And exhilarating. Which one would you like?”

“Thank you, I really appreciate the thought, but I really don’t drink much.”

“Much or at all?”

“At all.”

“Then why did you want to meet at a pub?”

“Nachos mostly, and they make a good virgin White Russian.”

As though conjured by his words, one of the servers came over and put down a nacho grande platter and white milk in front of him. I’d never seen so much dairy in one place.

“You already had a table?” I asked him.

“Yep. And I ordered.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Here I am.”

“All of you.”

My cheeks warmed at the thought: Sven sitting behind me, watching as I walked to the bar. The hem of the borrowed skirt was swaying inches below my ass.

“Was it worth it?” I asked him, with a slight grin.

“Yes, but I’ve always known you were attractive. That’s why I asked you to meet me in person. Well, that and you had to deliver the receipt to me.”

“Makes sense,” I said, after a moment to think. “And I feel the same.”

Could he have felt the same spark I had from the very first sight of him? It wouldn’t necessarily be that he felt the same energy as I do, but there was hope.

The flood gates were open, with both of us acknowledging our attraction to each other, and no way to bring it all back. It had been said. There was nothing to do but deal with the aftermath.

The Vodka Gears was gone in two gulps during the ensuing pause.

My breath quickened as excitement kicked in. Just an hour or so ago, I hadn’t known if this was even going to be an actual date. But now it was pretty obvious what both of us wanted to do with each other.

I was going to need a little more alcohol to be able to handle this!

“You okay with both drinks?” he asked, as I started in on the Sleepless.

“Oh, yeah. I’m not a drunk or anything. I just have the alcohol tolerance of an Irish dock worker. Got it from my grandma.”

“Better than a quilt.”

“I dunno; her quilts are pretty kickass.”

It wasn’t meant as a joke, but I was just happy to hear Sven laugh. That was something of a rare occurrence, if the rumors about him were to be believed. He could be cold as ice but there was another side of him too: one that was barely spoken of, except in whispers.

People said he had a dark but tender side, which few have ever seen, and that it only came out in the bedroom. Girls who had been with him were whispering in corners of launches, comparing notes, like in a secret society. It was one that I was apparently eager to join, no matter the cost.

“Let’s go,” he said, using his dom voice.

He clearly didn’t want to waste any more time.