Chasing the Sun (A Rebound Novella Book 2) (2 page)

“Yes, that’s what I need. I need some ass, and double time.”

And he knew just where to go. He threw on his worn black ballcap and flops.
 

Ms. Shari, dots her ‘I’ with a heart was about to get lucky.

“Sorry, she’s not working tonight,” said the petite bartender.
 

Sails up, but wind removed.
 

He shook off the disappointment and decided to stay for a beer. The place was quiet. It was a Monday night, after all. Only alcoholics and college kids went out on Monday nights. What did that make him? Oh, right, horny losers went out on Monday nights, too. But hey, dollar pints.

“Trust me, she’s not your type.”

He re-focused on the person speaking to him. Dark curls piled on the top of a head that housed big green eyes and full lips. Small waist and a killer rack. He was glad Shari with a heart wasn’t there.

“How long ago?” she asked.

“I’m sorry, what?”
 

“How long ago did you get your heart tsunamied?”
 

He was taken aback by that statement.
 

“Please. You have that lonely guy puppy dog look about you. Plus you haven’t stared at my tits once. All the signs are there.” She smiled. It was a pretty smile.
 

Ian laughed. “Wow, that obvious, huh? And by the way, I did check out your tits. I was just ninja about it.” It was her turn to laugh.

“Well, tit ninja, what can I getcha?” She had a slight twang that seemed to contradict her exotic looks.

“Surprise me.”

She chuckled again and pulled a tap to her left. “Here ya go, handsome. This is local and out of this world.” She winked.

“Thanks, and the name’s Ian.” He stuck his hand out.
 

She didn’t offer hers but said, “Trevia. But my friends call me Trey.”

“Which should I call you?”
 

 
She smirked and went to the end of the bar.

Chapter Four

Third night at the Royal Muck in one week. He wasn’t becoming a barfly or anything. Well, kind of. It was just that his social life was a bit limited here. The food was good, the live music was above par, and of course they employed the sassiest little bartender in town. The current band of twenty-something hipsters was playing “Barely Legal” by the Strokes, and killing it, if he was being honest.

He wasn’t drunk, but he was getting close to the line. The line that when crossed caused a pounding headache in the morning. Fuck it. He’d worked hard and it was Friday night.

“You enjoying yourself, handsome?” His favorite suds slinger asked, leaning over the bar so he could hear her over the din.

“Hell yes. This band is awesome.”

“They play every Friday. I always bank—just look at this crowd.”
 

He’d learned earlier in the week that she was working her way through law school. She’d taken a four year break after getting her bachelors “to find herself,”so she was one of the oldest students in class.

“But still one of the hottest,” she’d joked. He didn’t think it was an exaggeration.
 

Several hours and not sure how many beers later, Ian still sat on the stool. He was keeping Trey company while she cleaned up. She was one of the coolest chicks he’d ever met. That fact that she was easy on the eyes was just a bonus.

“So I know you play the guitar. What other hidden talents do you have? Something no one really knows about you?”

He thought for a minute, tearing the paper off the corner of his coaster.

“I can juggle.”
 

She quirked her left eyebrow and lined three limes across the bar.

“Prove it.”

He looked around, the place was empty except for the seriously drunk couple groping in a corner booth. So he shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the green spheres. Taking a few deep breaths he admitted, “Haven’t done this in about twenty years.”

“Take your time, grandpa.” She smiled and started to dry a few glasses, never taking her eyes off of him.

One, two…drop. He tried again. One, two, three, drop. He growled in frustration and took a breath that lifted his shoulders almost to his ears. Trey just smiled, knowing he could do it.
 
He could feel her willing him to succeed.

One, two, three, four, and around and around they spun. He was grinning from ear to ear as the limes circled his head in furious fashion. Trey whistled and clapped. He caught one in his right hand and two in his left, then bowed to his audience of one.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“That was amazing. And may I say you are the hottest juggler I’ve ever seen. Seriously, like no contest whatsoever.”

“So what about you, Trey?”

She threw her towel over her shoulder and said, “I’m double jointed.”
 

“Prove it.”

She laughed threw the towel at his head.

“Perv. I really don’t have any talents.”
 

“I find that hard to believe. I think yours just aren’t as in your face as say, juggling.”

“Oh yeah? Like what, pray tell?” She cocked one hip to the side just ever so slightly and crossed her arms in front of her. He didn’t notice the heart shape her ample mounds made above the tight white tank she was wearing. No, not at all. Thoughts of motor boating would be totally inappropriate.
 

Then stop making the sounds in your head you hard dick.

Luckily it just looked like he was carefully contemplating his response.

“You have a way of making people feel welcome. You put them at ease without them even knowing. That, my friend, is a talent.” She had a strange look on her face. If he didn’t know better there was a little moisture in her eyes. But that couldn’t be, right? Trey was a tough-ass. And just as quickly as that thought entered his mind she schooled her expression and winked.

“Thanks. I’ve been honing those skills since I was a kid. When your name is Trevia Swartz, your dad sports a yarmulke, and you live in a small Texas town—you have to work a little harder to earn the acceptance of your peers…and before you even go there, no
Space Balls
references or I will cut you.” She lifted a little knife she had behind the bar for affect.

He laughed. “What? That didn’t even enter my mind…well until you brought it up. I don’t even like that movie…much.”
 

He slid off his perch, his ass sore and legs a little numb. He pulled out a fifty and placed it on his bar. It was well over 20%. He waited tables in college and he knew how it felt to have your livelihood hinge on the generosity of patrons. Plus he took care of his friends.

“Thanks, Trey. Be careful going home…and… ‘May the Swartz be with you.’”
 

He laughed at the look that came over her face. She was trying so hard to be annoyed, but failing miserably. It was so cute. He got halfway to the door and then remembered something.

“Hey, I was going to take Ruby to the park tomorrow—there’s an art festival. Do you want to go? Not a date or anything. I know you probably have a rule about customers and all that.”

Her nose crinkled a little. She had the most expressive face, he just wished he knew what the expressions meant.

“Well, I have to be here at 4, but I could go for a little while. I usually sleep in after closing the bar, but after four cups of coffee and a plate of Migas I’m usually ready to go.”

“Cool. Here’s my card, my cell’s on there. Text me or whatever.”

She nodded and put the card into her back pocket. He waved one last time and walked out the door.

“Ian, you have one fine derrière,” Trey mumbled. She wouldn’t even get started on his eyes.

Chapter Five

Ian walked onto the sidewalk, Ruby trotting faithfully beside him. The weather was hot, but there was a flutter of wind swirling about, making it almost pleasant. He loved that he could walk to almost any destination—in Dallas he had to drive everywhere. The Jeep was great and all, but being outdoors on his own two legs, there was nothing like it.

Trey was standing by the designated street sign where they’d agreed to meet. She lounged against the metal pole in a short white skirt and a yellow tank top. Her dark curls were flowing well beyond her shoulders from what he could tell. He’d never seen her hair down. She looked hot—and it wasn’t from the weather.
 

What? Friend or no, guys have a one track mind. And that track led right between the legs.

“Hey there, handsome, who’s this?” She put her sunglasses on top of her head and crouched down as best she could, nuzzling Ruby’s head. She did the ‘who’s a sweet dog’ thing in that voice people use when they’re talking to dogs and babies.
 

He found it endearing.
 

She ruffled the appreciative pup’s furry ear one last time and stood up to give Ian a kiss on his cheek. He hugged her small frame into his side.

“May I present, Ruby. Next to my mom and sister, she’s the only woman I trust.”
 

“That sounds about right. Women are manipulative bitches.”

He liked that she didn’t say “what about me.” She was confident, it was almost a swagger like a guy would possess. Ian supposed that was one of the reasons they’d bonded so quickly. She was like a dude, but with a nice rack. He meant that in a totally non-tranny kind of way.
 

“So now that you have me out of bed and amongst the day walkers, where should we start?” she asked, putting her sunglasses back on her freckled nose.

“Well, how about there?” Ian pointed towards a row of tents to their left.
 

She looked down at the dog. “Lead the way, Ruby.”

The grassy lanes were filled with people from every walk of life. Dogs dressed in costumes. Sticky handed children with painted faces. Zydeco music wafting from the other end of the park. They stopped at every booth and chatted about nothings and somethings, easily and naturally. Most of the tents were filled with artisan jewelry, sculptures, paintings, and photographs.They laughed at the urinating dog made of metal that was supposed to decorate a lawn. That was almost as ridiculous as the donkey painting priced at three hundred dollars. They told the artist, who they later named the hippy Santa, how much they liked it. Ian even went as far as saying that he’d never seen an ass quite so realistic before. Trey made a weird sound in her throat, somewhere between a cough and a choke, before escaping to the next display.

Trevia modeled large sun hats and a hideous tie-dyed vest. Ruby sampled organic dog treats. Ian watched them both with affection. Ian offered to buy her a small necklace that grabbed her attention. It was a dainty copper chain with an antique Tibetan medallion hanging from its middle link. She refused his offer, but seemed to appreciate the gesture.

“That’s so sweet of you to offer, but I can’t let you do that.”

Ian was a little surprised. “Since when did girls turn down jewelry?”

 
He’d thought that was kind of their thing, jewelry and shoes or whatever.

She smiled and put her hand on one hip. “Since guys think it gives them license to get their penises massaged.”
 

He laughed. “I’m not like that.” He could barely keep a straight face. No matter the situation, a guy would opt for a dick massage.

“How do I know that? I haven’t known you very long, so I’m going out on a limb, pal. Jewelry equals
you
expecting
me
to touch
your
penis or
you
wanting to touch
my
boobs.”

“Uh, news flash—of course I want to touch your boobs, but me buying a necklace has nothing to do with that. And if you want to caress my dong, I won’t stop you. Again, no purchase required.”
 

The side of her mouth lifted and she laughed softly. “Come on, handsome.What I need is food.”

She pulled his hand towards the long line of food trucks with every kind of food one could think of and a few he would have never imaged. For instance the one they decided on served Asian tacos. Ian didn’t know there was such a thing, but here they were.

“I think I want the seared tuna with wasabi mayo,” Trey pondered. Ian was leaning towards the shredded pork and kimchi slaw. He was feeling adventurous.

“It just proves a theory I’ve had for a long time,” Ian said as they waited for their order.

“And that would be?”

“That if you put it in a tortilla, people will eat it.”

“Really? That’s your theory?”

“What, you were expecting something profound?”

“Yeah, like… the prolific influence Asian food has had on the culinary world…something like that.”

“That’s what I meant to say.”

They found an open picnic table nearby and dug in.

After taking a large bite, Ian said, “Confucius say these are muy bueno!”
 

She may have snorted.

“Thank you for the amazing day. I’m so glad you invited me. I would have lazed around all afternoon,” Trey said. She was standing on the curb and Ian was in the street so they were almost eye level.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for the company. I think things are always better when you can enjoy them with a friend.”

She smiled. “I’m glad I could fill in until you go back home.”

“Hey, you’re no fill-in and don’t think you’re getting rid of me just because I live in another city. You’re stuck with me, shortie. I’m one of the few guys who can have a hot girl as a friend.”
 

It was true, he could…though he still pictured them naked and wondered what it would be like to have sex with them. Come on. Male evolution has its limits.

She gave Ruby a snuggle and hugged Ian. He noticed that she had a good hug. And by good he meant that her large breasts smooshed up against his chest. He may have gotten partial wood as a result.

See…limits.

“Have a good night at work.”

“You’re not coming in?” she asked.

“My buddy from college lives here and he wanted to grab a drink.”

“Well, grab one at the Royal. We have an amazing singer tonight.”

He thought about it for about half a second and agreed.