Not Quite Juliet: A Club Imperial Novel (Silver Soul Book 1) (5 page)

“You couldn’t bring the rest of us beer?” Dave asked.

“How many hands do I have?” Nick asked.

“Who’s the chub?”

“The
lady
is with me,” he snapped at Dave. “Morgan, the guys.” They all waved at me, except Dave, who just went back to locking up the last of his cases. I knew I didn’t like him. Nick put his hand on the small of my back and pressed me into the room. “Morgan is apparently a superfangirl who was helping Stat behind the bar tonight.”

“She’s not acting like a groupie,” Vatori said.

“You should have seen her mating dance,” he said.

“Oh, God,” I grimaced, putting a hand to my head.

Vatori walked up to me carrying his bass equipment in one hand. “Nice to meet you, Morgan. I have to be places tomorrow morning, so forgive me running out.” He stuck his hand out and I shook it. “Try coming back on a Friday or Saturday. We’ll get you back here.”

The little bitch in my head was trying to slip her bonds and do the Dougie again. She needed to pick a different dance. “Thanks.” He slipped out the door behind us.

Van and Ript both finished what they were doing a moment later and headed for the door. Van only had a bag with him, but Ript had an amplifier and guitar. Van grabbed the amp and walked at me. “We’ve all got stuff tomorrow. We’d love it if you came back when we can stay, Morgan.” He shook my hand as well and stepped out.

Ript winked and shook my hand. “Ditto, chica. Come back another night.” He had a vague, sexy Latino accent. He disappeared out the door as well.

Nick took my hand and walked me in further, to his corner. He had a desk there with a lamp, paper and pens and stuff. There were several set lists and pay stubs and folders with labels on them. He drained the rest of the beer and put in the recycle bin. I must’ve given him a funny look because he nodded at the can. “Save the planet.”

“Nice,” I agreed.

The door slammed behind us and we both turned to look. We were alone and Nick glowered at the door for a moment before mumbling, “Asshole.” He looked at me. “More and more that guy is becoming an asshole. He was cool until we sat down and voted to not going any further than being a local band. Now, he’s rude all the time.” He smiled. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” I said. “He’s not exactly my favorite.” My eyes went wide, and I was horrified at the fangirl statement.

But, Nick just laughed lightly. “We have that much in common.”

He turned back and rifled through some more stuff, grabbing two pieces of paper. He pulled the jacket off the chair, and tossed it on. He put the papers in the jacket pocket inside and then reached into another and pulled out keys. He grabbed my hand, and we walked back out of the dressing room. He pulled it closed and turned to lock it. “Was it everything you dreamed?”

“Smelled like gym socks,” I said. “Didn’t smell like that in my dream.”

He laughed lightly and we started walking toward a back door. “What did it smell like in your dream?”

“Patchouli,” I admitted. “And I have no idea why.”

“You think we’re dirty hippies?”

“Apparently,” I answered. “But now I know the truth.”

“And that would be?”

“You’re all dirty gym socks.”

He laughed again. I loved the sound and I was amazed he found me so funny. And, he was still holding onto my hand. It was warm and lightly calloused, and I liked it. A lot. He was a total gentleman too, pushing open and holding the doors. But just outside this outer door, he let go of my hand held up a finger. He backed me up a little bit, and looked at the door. He took a giant step at it, and using all of his forward force, planted a kick near the handle. The whole door shuttered and shook and slammed into place. He pressed a finger to the handle and there was a quiet ‘click’.

I laughed. “Really?”

“Yeah, Quentin’s too cheap to replace it since we all know how to lock it.”

“I think Franz needs to have a talk with Quentin about maintaining his club,” I offered. He looked a little surprised I said it, and I shrugged. “You know I work there, why hide it.”

He pointed at a car and beeped the alarm. I looked to find an Audi A7. Sleek and silver, the machine was everything I didn’t picture someone from Silver Soul driving. “You like?”

“Holy moly...” I said. “Yeah, I do. But...”

“But?”

“It’s not what I imagined you driving.”

“Well, we’ve already discovered that you think the dressing room should smell like dirty hippies,” he said. “What should I be driving?”

“A beater,” I answered. “A very classy high end beater. Like a Mercedes or a BMW.”

“A high end beater,” he pondered. “That’s a classic oxymoron.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But you seem to be falling into that classic oxymoron hole.”

“You know, I think you just cleverly insulted me,” he said.

“Perhaps I did,” I smiled.

“For that, we’re going to Denny’s.” He turned the engine over. “Well, that, and it’s the only place I can think of aside from McDonald’s that’s open past midnight.”

––––––––

“S
o, you really do work at Imperial?” Nick asked.

I gestured with my pancake. “Yes, but I’m just a bartender.”

“You mean with all that kinky stuff around you, you only work the bar. Ever.”

“Yup,” I said.

“You never experimented?”

“Where did I say that?” I asked, and blinked at him sweetly. If Nick had been wearing glasses, he would have peered at me over them. “Well, you asked.”

“You are a fascinating woman,” he said. “Tell me about it?”

“About what?” I gasped.

“About the guys,” he said. “I know how the sex part works. Why aren’t you in the lifestyle?”

“Because I don’t have the need,” I said. “I don’t feel like I need to be a Dom or a sub.” I picked up a piece of pancake and stared at it. “And if anything I’d have to be a Domme.” I popped the food in my mouth and got exactly the reaction I wanted out of Nick: his eyes bugged, and then he laughed nervously.

“Why is that?”

“Because the whole reason my first relationship in the lifestyle ended was that I was entirely too independent for my Sir.” I shrugged. “He and I sat down and talked it out, and now we’re friends and it’s all perfectly fine with both of us.”

“You said first,” he said, waving the fork at me.

I cleared my throat. “Taylor. There’s still two years on his restraining order.” Nick looked shocked with the bacon half way into his mouth. “And just think, that was the attempt at the Domme relationship.”

He chewed quickly. “Really? What happened?”

I sighed. Taylor. God, that was such a nightmare. “It started out as a bedroom-only D/s, and by week six, he was trying to push me into a Master/slave arrangement.” I twisted my lip. “He was topping from the bottom and when I told him I was done with the whole arrangement he started following me.” Wow, two years later and I was still having trouble talking about the whole thing.

Nick put his hand over mine. “You don’t have to say another thing. I’m sorry I’m prying.”

I glanced up at him. “I probably shouldn’t tell you. I don’t even know your real last name.”

He smiled. “Well, that means my ruse is working, if a superfan doesn’t know what it is.”

“Not a clue,” I said, and put my head on my hands and fluttered my eyelashes at him, subtly asking him to tell me.

He leaned forward. “Tell you what. You give me a second date and at the end of that date, I’ll tell you my last name.”

I looked around. “Hell of a first date,” I said. My stomach dropped into my feet.
Date?!
I was on a date with him?! And then the stomach decided it was going to exit my feet and drop in the floor, and possibly try to bore to China.

Nick D wanted a
second date
.

“Hey, are you okay?” He grabbed my hand. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

I waved my free hand at him to indicate I was fine. Kind of. “No, you didn’t. I didn’t realize how hard it still was for me to talk about Taylor.” Good cover, Morg. Blame the ex-asshole. That should do it. It really wasn’t him; it was a combination of things. Like him asking me out on a second date when I didn’t even realize we were on a first.

“Sorry,” he said, studying my face intently.

“Not you, not your fault.” I gave him a smile. “I just... I’ll tell you about Taylor another time, okay?”

“Third date?”

I stared at him, eyes wide, then dropped into a smirk. “When did I agree to the second?”

“You didn’t,” he answered. “But no superfan is going to turn down a date to find out my last name.”

“Woo, little full of ourselves tonight, aren’t we?” I teased.

“Hey, self-professed.” He pointed the fork at me.

“Okay, all right,” I said. “Fine. Super fangirl number one. Except Dave.”

“Except Dave,” he agreed.

“Coffee?” the waitress suddenly asked us.

Nick looked at me and I shook my head. “No thanks. I have to get some kind of sleep tonight.”

She slapped the check on the table and walked away. Nick grabbed it before I could and wouldn’t let me see what it was. Every time I made a grab, he would pull it away. I finally sat back and huffed at him. He gave me the biggest, dumbest grin I’d ever seen, so I stuck my tongue out at him. He stood up, holding his hand out for mine. “Come on. You’re about as fierce as a kitten with that. Let’s get going.”

He paid on the way out of the restaurant and wouldn’t let me see the check at all. I walked out to play with the gumball machine in the entrance instead. I knew he was just trying to be a gentleman, and it didn’t really bother me, but I thought I’d have fun with it. I realized the gumballs weren’t gumballs, but high bouncers. I dug out two quarters and dropped them in.

“Ready?” he asked a moment later, walking out of the restaurant into the vestibule.

I turned around and bounced the ball on the floor. It bounced off and nailed him right in the shoulder. He gasped and looked put out. “Are you throwing balls at me?”

“Just one,” I laughed, retrieving it. “I only had two quarters.”

“You really just nailed me with a ball.” He was truly astonished.

“Of course,” I said, coquettishly. I tossed the ball in the air a few times. He tried to snatch it out of the air, but I kept grabbing it back before he could. I didn’t really know where I had gotten the chutzpah to blatantly flirt like this. Especially with this sexy rock god.

“Oh, come on,” he pouted. “My turn!”

I pushed out the front door into the parking lot. I giggled like a school girl trotting away from the door. Nick followed, still trying to grab the little ball. I skipped over to his car, bouncing the ball so he couldn’t grab it. I bounced up extra high and twirled around to catch it. I saw him coming and snatched it out of the air. I moved even closer to the car and gave it another high bounce. “Ha, ha! It’s mine! And you can’t have it!”

“Bounce it again. I’ll bet I can steal it,” he dared me.

I stuck my tongue out and bounced it again, giggling. He wasn’t going to get the ball from me.

And then, I suddenly didn’t care about the ball. Nick slipped his hands around my waist and pushed me against the car. He captured my eyes and then he caught my lips with his. He was soft and pliable and gentle, and he didn’t demand anything more than just a simple soft kiss. His lips worked slowly against mine, and I was lost.

He pulled back, and smiled at me. “You’re as vicious as a kitten.”

“Watch out, I have pointy claws,” I mumbled.

“So, about that ball...”

“What ball?” I whispered.

“Hm. That’s what I thought,” he smiled. “Come on, kitten. It’s time to take you home.”

He unlocked the door and pulled it open for me. I sat down in the car and after he closed the door, I let myself hyperventilate. The only thing going through my head was
holy shit holy shit holy shit.
I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning. Nick D, the man I’d stared at for two solid years on stage and on the cover of his CDs and in the news and on their website had just fucking
kissed me
. He had tricked me and stolen a kiss.

I heard his door unlock and I forced myself to stop panicking. He slid into the car and smiled at me, turning the engine over. I pulled the seatbelt on as he did the same and he eased the car into drive, pulling away from the club. I looked over and saw the gorgeous profile of someone I’d known from a distance for years, but never dreamed of being this close to.

I’d always thought that even meeting him was a long shot, but I didn’t just meet him, I goosed him, teased him and had him steal a kiss from me. Was this really happening? Was I really sitting in a car, being driven home by Nick Fucking D, or had someone slipped me a mickey somewhere along the way? I wasn’t able to eliminate that idea.

He stopped at the driveway and I was confused as to why.

“Directions?” he asked.

Shit. “Oh. Uh. Right. I mean, go left.”

I saw his mouth quirk up in a smile, and he put the turn signal on. We drove quietly through the streets of Pittsburgh, mostly deserted now, and I directed him to my apartment building. I lived quite a distance from the point, but Franz had set me and Lisa up there after what had happened with Taylor. It was insanely close to the Robinson Mall and that was a serious bonus.

He pulled up to the front of the building, slid the car into a guest spot and shut the car off. He popped the door open and I did the same, but before I could get out of the car, Nick was there, offering me a hand again. I took it. Everything felt so surreal—I was confused and delighted and still reeling from the simple kiss. He closed the door and leaned me against the car. “So. Was Denny’s everything you dreamed?”

“The bacon was perfect,” I said, with a quiet laugh.

“Do I get to dazzle you with a second date?”

“Depends on what you mean by dazzle.”

He pretended to think for a moment. “Hmm. Olive Garden?”

“Ooh, the way to a woman’s heart: breadsticks.” I smirked at him.

“I’ll have to kick it up a notch then. Razzle
and
dazzle you with Red Lobster. Will I get your last name if I do that?”