We stopped talking when an elderly woman stepped between the red velvet curtains on the small stage. She was dressed in jeans that looked like they’d been washed just enough times to make them fit exactly right. She wore a black rock band T-shirt advertising a tour that ended like thirty years ago. Her forearms were covered in tattoos, and her hair hung to the middle of her back in a curtain of gray. She had to be close to sixty I would think, but she was a classic definition of the old saying that age is only a number. She looked totally badass. She was definitely someone I could hang with.
“Shirley, I guess?” I asked Trent.
“That’s her.”
Her eyes scanned the crowd as she nodded or waved to those she knew, which seemed to be pretty much everyone. When her eyes landed on our table, they swept over me. I felt I must have passed her examination when she winked at Trent before speaking into the microphone.
“Thank you, everyone, for coming out for another Saturday jam fest. The last group tonight is one we’ve all come to love. It’s a bittersweet moment to have them on our stage one last time before they start their tour with their brand-new record label.” She beamed with pride before continuing. “Put your hands together to welcome Die Hard to the stage one last time.” The other patrons erupted into cheers.
Trent leaned in close so I could hear him. “Die Hard got their start performing here. They all go to MSC and were discovered by one of the big record labels.”
I nodded my head. “That’s awesome.” I loved music and was pretty psyched to be watching a live show of a band that might hit it big. I thought it had to be a joke, though, when they walked out onstage. They were a group of five who looked like they had just time traveled from the nineteen twenties. There were three guys wearing button-up shirts with bow ties and baggy wide-legged trousers. The pants had no belt loops, so they wore suspenders, and they each wore matching oxford shoes. Two girls wore calf-length dresses that swished around when they moved, with old-fashioned boots that laced up to their ankles. Thick stockings peeked out in the small amount of space between where the dresses ended and the tops of their boots began.
I looked at Trent, wondering if their act was a parody or something to that effect. He merely grinned at me.
The group did a quick bow at the applause of greeting before picking up their instruments. All my doubts evaporated as they began playing. Their sound was alternative and sharp. The voices of the two lead singers were hypnotic. They melded together in a harmonious duet that made your heart clench with ache and indescribable wanting. The set shifted seamlessly from a ballad to hard-core rock that had all of us clapping and surging to our feet as one. My inner party girl roared to life as I moved to the music. I had missed this. Music had always been a big part of my life. It greeted me like an old friend.
I turned to Trent, wanting to share my excitement with him, but found him sitting in his chair, looking more uncomfortable than he had all night. “What’s wrong?” I called out over the loud music.
He shook his head, indicating that I should keep dancing.
I moved closer to him, sensing the issue. “You don’t know how to dance?” I asked, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice.
He shook his head and pushed his glasses back up on his nose. Reaching a hand down, I hauled him to his feet. “It’s easy. You just have to let the music tell you what to do,” I said loudly into his ear.
I placed my hands on his hips so I could guide them to the beat of the music. He watched as I moved effortlessly to the rhythmic music. His body was stiff in my hands, much like a robot that wasn’t built to move certain ways. I grabbed his hands and placed them on my hips so he could get a feel of the movement. The intimacy of the action caught me by surprise. My eyes moved up to his. I watched as they darkened to a blue that matched the sky right before a storm moved in. Unconsciously, I swayed closer to him. My hands seemed to move up to his shoulders on their own. His hands clenched my hips, dragging me closer to him. I zeroed in on his full lips with a mental image of them trailing over my body.
I took a step back before I did something stupid like stick my tongue down his throat like I was dying to do. Trent prevented my retreat. His hands held me firmly in place as he closed the gap between us. “This dancing thing isn’t all that bad,” he said, pulling my body flush against his. The stiff robotic movements from moments ago were gone.
“This isn’t dancing,” I said, trying to control my breath.
“That’s why I like it,” he whispered in my ear. His left hand moved up to the nape of my neck and he began gently caressing my earlobes with his fingertips. I could feel my body responding to his touch as the heat of desire filled me.
His lips moved slowly toward mine as the music and the crowd around us seemed to fade away. We were hitting the point of no return. His puppy-love crush on me would be even harder to sideline, but I didn’t care.
His lips met mine tentatively. They were unyielding and almost cold. Disappointment coursed through me from the lack of spark between us. I should have been happy. This justified everything I’d been trying to say. I could have pulled away. I should have, but the stubborn person inside me wouldn’t allow it. “Is that really the best you got, Geek Boy?” I mocked. I used the tip of my tongue to tease his lips open. They parted, letting my tongue sweep in. His hand tightened on the back of my neck and he moaned against my mouth.Holy-set-my-panties-on-fire, his moan was my undoing. My tongue boldly stroked against his, teaching him how sensual a good kiss could be. He was a quick study, and it was my turn to moan as his own tongue tangled with mine. The lips that just moments ago had been unyielding crushed against mine. They devoured me.
We parted as the music around us glided to its final notes. Trent looked at me with a combination of disbelief and lust. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t quaking with the same feelings. That had to be the best dare and payoff to a bet I had ever experienced. I couldn’t help thinking of a few other things I would like to teach him, only they would require a horizontal position.
16.
Once Die Hard left the stage, Shirley came over to chat with Trent and me while the club began to clear out. Several people stopped at our table to thank Shirley for another great evening. One guy in particular came over and I swore he was someone famous, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Only after Shirley teased him about dragging himself out of his writing cave did the light bulb explode in my head.
Holy shit, I mouthed to Trent. “Stephen effing K—” Trent grabbed my hand and nodded quickly before I could embarrass myself. Shirley and you-know-who exchanged pleasantries before he walked away and she turned her attention back to Trent and me.
We chatted for several minutes. It didn’t take an Einstein to figure out she was fond of Trent. She all but threatened that I better treat her boy right, which, by the way, sounded even more intimidating than she probably meant because of her raspy voice. I wasn’t offended. It was sweet that she was so protective of him.
After reassuring her I’d toe the line with him, she hugged us both and we headed out. The drive to my apartment passed with Trent filling me in on everything he knew about Shirley. Talk about someone who lived her life to the fullest. Her stories and the things she’d witnessed could have filled several books. It was admirable, and I hoped I could say the same thing about my life someday. My worst fear was that I’d grow up and have nothing that ever amounted to anything. Deep down, I think that’s why I submersed myself into the party atmosphere. If nothing else, I’d have some great stories to tell when I got older. Now reflecting back on the evening we’d just had, I never would have imagined a date with Trent would eclipse the memories of any party I’d ever been to.
Trent pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex and climbed from the vehicle to walk me to my door. We walked in silence up the three flights of stairs. I tossed around the idea of inviting him to stay the night until I remembered I was sharing a room with Derek. It was probably for the best anyway. Our kiss may have left me wanting to climb him like a monkey, but I wasn’t ready to fall into bed with him. Yet.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t seriously anticipating kissing him again, along with a few other things I’d like to show him. If we were lucky, Derek and Cameo would be out and we’d at least have the apartment to ourselves.
“You want to come inside?” I asked when we arrived at my door.
“Oh, uh, I have to go. Thanks, though,” he answered, shocking the hell out of me. He claimed he had to finish working on a few things before meeting with Profe
ssor Nelson in the morning. With a squeeze of my hand, he was gone. Not a kiss. Not even one of those awkward ass-sticking-out-behind-you arm hugs, like you’re afraid you might catch a disease if you get too close. No, I got a flipping hand squeeze. I was surprised he didn’t pat me on the head.