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Chapter Four
Levi
I wake up cranky. My neck has a crick in it from falling asleep wrong on my pillow, my mouth is dry from drinking too much, and the headache got progressively worse after Jessa left my apartment with the slam of the door.
Jessa. Not exactly the woman I had planned on bringing home last night. Of course, by home I mean the building. Abby has her own place across the hall. After I finished her song, we jumped right into the next one. I was anxious to get done and tear down so I could grab my friend and head back to our building. Unfortunately, she slipped out with her family before the set was over. Without saying goodbye, I might add. Not a wave, a smile, not even a kiss my ass.
Afterwards, that’s when things got real. Crystal was looking to hook up again, but I just wasn’t feeling it. Apparently, she forgot about me quickly and moved on to the next man in line, which happened to be Dexter, our drummer. He barely helped pack up our shit before he had his tongue down Crystal’s throat, his hand down the waist of her tiny little shorts.
The problem with this was that his sister, Jessa, was in town for the weekend. She was at the show, supposed to stay with her big brother, but the dumb fuck opted to invite his new friend home with them. It was either force Jessa to listen to her brother bumping uglies with a town tramp or invite her to crash at my place in my guest room.
She made her decision, which was why I didn’t sleep for shit last night. I’m not used to having company in my space, so every time she moved in bed, every time she got up to get a drink or piss, every time she coughed, I heard it. Eventually, I got up and slammed back a bottle of Jack. The burn in my stomach and the rush of sweet intoxication helped rock me to sleep. Slept like a damned baby, too.
Sundays are my day off from my workout routine, which consists of running, some free weights, and taking out a little aggression on the heavy bag. After popping a few Tylenol and taking a hot shower, I finally feel human enough to head out in public. I’m in desperate need of some groceries, and I was hoping to have Abby over for dinner tonight. I’m on the rig again Monday, so I might as well take advantage of having an entire weekend off and spend it with my best girl.
My phone dings with a text. Swiping the screen, I find a message from my buddy, Tucker. We both work for the hospital and have many shifts together, since neither of us minds working overnights. He’s also a volunteer firefighter. Tuck and I get along well and like to grab a drink after a long shift. I guess you could say he’s the male version of Abby, but without the wandering eye. No way in hell do I check out Tuck’s ass or tits the way I might steal glances of Abby’s.
But that’s not something to talk about right now.
Tuck: I’m dehydrated. Need fuel. Lunch at café at noon. Be there, fucker.
Realizing I’m starving, I shoot off a quick reply with an equally derogatory insult confirming the lunch plans, and grab my wallet and keys. I don’t bother knocking on Abby’s door to invite her along since she’s at her sister’s shop this morning. They’ll spend all morning there doing all that girly shit that isn’t necessary. She’s gorgeous in that simple, girl next door kinda way that guys always acknowledge. Fortunately for me, those that notice Abby just take a second look. Abby’s kinda awkward when it comes to guys so it rarely makes it past the second date.
Not that she’s dated much, to my pleasure. Not sure why that makes me smile, but it does. Mostly because I don’t want her with some douchebag who only wants one thing. You know, a guy like me. Or at least how I used to be. I’m no saint, by any means, but I’m not the manwhore I prided myself on in my late teens and early twenties. She dated that weirdo, Colton, for a while. Damn, I hated that guy. He was…well, he just… I don’t know what it was, but he grated on my nerves. When she dumped him, I was the first one there to celebrate.
Good riddance, jackwad!
I jump in my truck and head towards the fire station. I have about an hour left until I meet Tuck, so it’s as good a time as any to stop by and grab my gym clothes and bring them home to wash. Plus, there’s always something there to keep you busy for a little while. Since we’re all volunteers, paid a small wage for calls, we congregate once a week for a meeting and do what we can to clean, organize, and maintain our gear and equipment. Most of us use the gym in back to workout, but there’s only a handful of guys that actually will do a bit of cleaning up after the gross fuckers that sweat all over everything and make the locker room smell like a cross between nasty ass and swampy feet.
Before I know it, it’s a few minutes before noon. My bag packed with dirty clothes is thrown in the bed of my truck as I head off to the café to meet Tuck. He’s already in a booth when I get there, chugging a glass of ice water. By the way he carries the suitcases under his eyes and he gulps water like he may never get it again, I think it’s safe to say that ol’ Tuck went out and tied one on last night.
“Long night?”
“Fuck. My head is throbbing.”
“Where’d ya go? I didn’t see ya at the beach,” I ask, taking a drink of the water the young waitress slides in front of me. She gives me a coy grin, which is rewarded with a wink that makes her giggle, before heading off to her next table.
“I don’t know how you do it. You’ve got more pussy lined up than anyone I know,” he says, shaking his head and watching the waitress walk off.
“Anyway, last night?” I redirect, not wanting to discuss the tail I get or could get.
“Headed up to Lucky’s before I was gonna show at the beach. Brenna was there in that fucking skirt the same size as an Ace bandage, which told me one thing: she was on the prowl. Heard that dick she was seeing left again, so I bought her a drink. One turned to five, which turned into a BJ in the bathroom before I took her home and rocked her world half the night. There was tequila and body shots somewhere along the way, and damn if I’m not hurtin’ this morning.”
The giggly waitress comes back a few moments later to take our order. I’m ready to order my standard when I think about that chicken wrap that Abby always gets. “Grilled chicken, bacon, and ranch wrap with onion rings, please.” Tuck notices my odd choice and raises his eyebrow my way.
When the waitress is done lingering at the table, she heads back to put in our order. “Abby’s rubbing off on you,” he says, his look pointed and direct.
“It looked good last time we were here so I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Mmmmhmmm,” he says, taking another drink of water.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Just that you and Abby seem to spend a lot of time together.”
“We’re friends,” I remind him.
“You and I are friends. Guys and girls can’t be friends, at least not for very long.”
