I didn't like surprises. I didn't like my plans being thwarted either.
I headed to the guitar shop. That was my place. The place where everything was happy and my heartfelt at ease. Who wouldn't feel good surrounded by guitars?
Heat rose from the pavement in waves that went through the soles of my boots. A day like this would almost melt the rubber. Some kids on the street threw water balloons. I kept to the side of the footpath so I didn't get accidentally hit. One of those little buggers had a devilish look in his eyes and I had no intention of ending up saturated.
Violet had some crazy prejudice about dating rockers. And I won't lie, most rockers I knew aren't good enough to be the dirt under her feet. Not that I was top-notch or anything, but I worshipped that woman. She's the sun to my star, the words to my melody, the jam to my peanut butter. All I wanted was a chance to prove myself and I'd be everything good – kind, loyal, loving. I'd make her breakfast in bed and massage her feet. I’d never wake her from her nap ever again.
I had a plan, and that plan was to take things slow and easy, proving to Violet that I wasn’t like those other guys around the club. Eventually, she’d see my good points.
Since the day I first met Violet, she'd been the only one for me.
Sure, she went on with all that "get out of my office" talk but she didn't mean it. Well, maybe that bit about her hating to be woken up was true. I rubbed my head. That boot had hit hard. But she'd been coming around to the idea when that douche turned up.
I didn’t need some stranger in tight leather pants ruining my plans.
If I couldn’t be with Violet, I’d check out my baby. Because the one thing I loved in this world almost as much as Violet was that guitar. Maybe I loved the Les Paul more. If Violet showed some sign of returning my love, she'd make it to the number one slot for sure, but there's only so far you can get in a man's heart when you don't requite. My baby, now she requited. She requited like a bitch on heat, responding to my touch and giving back as much as I gave her. On a good day, the best of days, she was my world.
Still, a guitar is cold comfort in the middle of the night. And I knew if I got half a chance with Violet, she'd requite too.
They were a lot alike, my two loves. The reddish-brown of Violet’s hair almost the same color as the cherry wood. Both with curves I wante
d to run my hands over. Violet had brown eyes that flashed when she got angry. It was almost worth getting her angry to see the way her eyes gleamed. She had the kind of face you wouldn’t call pretty but more strong and fierce. I’d rather a girl who looked like Violet than some boring pretty girl any day.
Phil's Music World. Not only full of fucking sweet axes but also air-conditioned. Just the smell of the place comforted me. Those fresh, virgin guitars and the older well-loved ones. The wood, the metal. I wandered around the shop, taking my time, not overly anxious, working my way up to my baby. The one guitar I coveted. I'd kill a man if I could make her mine.
You couldn't walk straight in and go to her, though. There was a system, a way of working up to it.
It's called foreplay.
It took me a full hour to look around the shop before approaching her. Phil, the owner, had no beef with me getting her down and playing her. He'd offered to let me have a payment plan but I didn't hold with that kind of thing. I'd save and I'd work my guts out
It was tough at the moment, though. Things were slow at the site so the boss had given me some time off. That left me free to pester Violet but didn’t help the savings in any way.
My baby would have to wait.
A shudder of anticipation went through me as I reached up to her, easing my way in with a gentle touch, when the shop bell rang. Instinctively, I turned.
Holy fuck. That poser. Alex Shithead. In my guitar shop.
For some reason, I retreated. I didn't want to see that guy and I definitely did not want to talk to him. I'm not the kind of man to run and hide but he'd got my back up and I didn't want trouble.
I left my baby and hid behind a shop display. I'd watch, wait for him to leave then get back to business.
He strode through the store. That's the kind of poser he was, the kind that strode, not walked. I hoped he just wanted to get some strings or something and then leave. He'd be off my turf.
The creep barely looked around the store, just went straight to the counter. He obviously wasn't a man who knew about foreplay.
He stopped near my baby. Awfully close to her.
My heart jumped up into my throat and my fists balled. Get away from her, I wanted to scream. I kept pretending to look at oboes. Fixed my gaze on them and tried to control my breathing. I could see him out of the corner of my eye. You should never take your eyes off a snake in the grass completely.
That poser reached up. His hand hovered near my baby. He grabbed her neck, just went straight in for the grope. What an animal.
He picked her off the wall, his filthy hands all over her. He held her like she was nothing.
Inaction made my blood throb in my veins like fuel through a V8. I'd smash that fucker to bits.
Except I couldn't hurt him without harming my baby. My baby was in his arms. If I threw him to the ground, she might break or get dented.