Smash and Grab

Chapter 6. Ashlynn

“Sorry, something’s come up and I’m not going to make it.”

I sigh as I read the text message. It’s seven minutes after I was supposed to meet Ryan for our blind date, and I’ve been sitting at the table for at least fifteen minutes. “Ok, maybe some other time then?”  I write back, knowing full well I’ll likely never hear from him again. It wouldn’t be the first time a guy has shown up, taken one look at me, and run for the hills.

I sip my old fashioned cocktail, and try to remind myself I’m not supposed to feel relief that he cancelled. I’m sure he’s a nice guy, but my heart just isn’t into dating. Honestly, between derby, chasing a promotion at work, and now planning a baby shower for La-la, I don’t know where I thought I’d find the time to date. It’s why I asked him to meet me on a Tuesday night- my weekends are packed! I wonder idly if I should just finish my drink and go home, but quickly discard the idea and pick up the menu. I’m here, I might as well treat myself to a nice dinner. No one ever said I couldn’t wine and dine myself. Even Bob is charged and ready for me back at home so I can get lucky if I play my cards right.

I’m silently laughing to myself at my own lame joke when a familiar voice pulls me out of my one-woman seduction. “Ashlynn?”

Sweat breaks out on my palms and my heart drums against my ribcage as I look up and meet Ben’s intense gaze. It’s been over a month since I saw him last, but the embarrassment of how I handled our morning after still burns. “Ben, hi,” I want to crawl in a hole. I can survive getting stood up, it’s happened before, but I’m not sure I can survive Ben knowing I’ve been stood up.

“Are you… are you here with someone?” he asks. Stupidly, I imagine he sounds just a bit jealous.

“No, just me tonight,” I force a smile, and try desperately to sound cheerful. I think it comes out a little psychotic.

“Can I join you?”

“Join me?” I squeak out, my face falling.

He drops his voice to a low seductive level and smiles in a way that has heat flooding my belly. “Yeah, join you. Unless you don’t like my company.”

His reference to what I said to him on the dark path leaving the wedding reception makes me smile for real. I laugh softly and it feels good. It’s the first time in too long that I’ve had an honest laugh. “Of course, you can join me,” I say with a nod to the waiter. This may not be the best idea I’ve ever had, but I suddenly don’t want to eat alone.

“Can I get you something to drink, sir?” the waiter asks as Ben settles into the chair across the table from me.

He looks at my nearly empty glass and nods. “I’ll have one of those.”

The waiter nods and turns to me. “Another for you, miss?”

I hesitate for a moment before nodding. “Sure. Thanks.”

There’s an awkward moment as the waiter walks away and I realize he’d been a sort of buffer between Ben and I. The only other time we’ve ever been alone together was that one night, and we didn’t do a lot of talking then. I fidget, not sure how to start a conversation.

“So, do you do this a lot?” Ben asks. “Take yourself out for dinner?”

I feel my cheeks heat and curse myself for blushing. “No, not really,” I admit. There’s no way in hell I’m telling him the full story of why I’m here by myself tonight, though. “How about you?”

“Not very often, no,” he shakes his head, but his smile is still in place. During the wedding he was all scowls and stoic looks, his easy-going smile is disarming. “I’m sort of celebrating tonight.”

“Oh? What are you celebrating?”

“Well, now that I’ve brought you in on this,” there’s laughter in his voice and I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. His happiness is contagious. I want to see more of this side of him. “We are celebrating my band was accepted into South by Southwest.”

My mouth drops open at his announcement. “The festival in Austin?” La-la said they were good, but… “Wow! That’s huge! Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” he’s practically vibrating with pride. “It’s just one of the smaller side stages, but it’s definitely a step up from the clubs we usually play at.”

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating with the rest of your band?” I ask, wondering if they’re at some other table waiting for him.

“They were all busy tonight,” he explains. “We’ll celebrate some other time, but I just got confirmation this afternoon and decided it was too momentous for a microwaved lasagna.”

“Honey, waking up in the morning is too momentous an occasion for microwaved lasagna,” I say automatically. The twinkle in his eye at my endearment is probably all in my head, but I bite my lip and glance away from the intimacy I feel with him as the waiter brings our drinks.

“Are you ready to order?” he asks, bringing out a pad.

“Oh, umm… you haven’t had a chance to look at the menu,” I say to Ben.

He shakes his head, and says, “It’s ok. I always get the same thing when I come here anyway. Go ahead.”

I c*ck my head at him wondering how often he really does come here if he has a usual, but shrug it off and smile at the waiter. “I’ll have the twelve ounce ribeye with steamed mixed vegetables and a glass of the pinot noir.”

The waiter and I shift our attention to Ben who’s looking at me with an expression I can’t quite fathom. “I’ll have the same,” he says with a tone of awe. “Although, instead of a glass, why don’t you bring a bottle of the wine.”

The waiter nods and leaves and I fidget with my napkin. “Ben, do you think it’s a good idea to order a bottle of wine?” I say quietly remembering our last encounter.

He smiles and reaches a hand across to gently caress my fingers. “I’m sure we’re not going to get drunk on a couple glasses of wine.” His tone is reassuring, but the heated look in his eyes spears through me. I need to get a hold of my libido before I throw myself at him again. It took me weeks to accept I needed to move on, and only minutes to fall under his captivating spell again.

“So, I don’t actually know all that much about you,” he says, sitting back and letting go of my hand. The loss of contact leaves me feeling cold, and I try to shake off the feeling and concentrate on what he’s saying. “What do you do?”

I came out tonight expecting to do the first date small talk. I rehearsed it in my bathroom mirror, even wrote a few flash cards of appropriate things to say. Of course, that was all for Ryan- an accountant that I was sure I’d have nothing in common with and even less interest in. Ben’s presence throws me off balance. I’d rather talk about passions and deep, meaningful discussions on the meaning of everything. I suppose we have to get the basics out of the way first, though. “I work in pharmaceuticals,” I say.

“Ahhh! So, you’re one of those pretty sales people they send around to flirt with doctors and get them to prescribe your sexiest drug.” Any other time, any other person, I would say they were making fun of me. Ben seems completely sincere, though.

I snort in derision and try to cover up the gaffe with a cough, only mildly succeeding. “Umm… no,” I correct flatly. “You have to be attractive to be one of the sales reps. I’m a lab rat. Technically, a lab assistant.”

He studies me while he takes a thoughtful sip of his drink. “So, what you’re saying is, you’re the whole package. Smart and beautiful.”

I’m not sure I can do this. “Ben, please stop,” I say quietly.

His brows draw together and he frowns at me, setting down his drink and leaning forward. “Stop what, Ashlynn?”

“Stop saying… those things,” I tell him. I meet his gaze so he can see that even though I’m uncomfortable, I’m not ashamed. “I’m well aware of how I look, and believe it or not, I’m ok with it. I like myself. I don’t dye my hair every color of the rainbow and wear the clothes I wear because I want to blend in. I’m no wall flower. But I know I’m not beautiful and I’ll never be sexy. I am smart, and I’m good at what I do. I’m not going to sleep with you tonight, so stop blowing smoke up my ass.”

He stares at me with his mouth open in shock for a few minutes before sitting back again. “Ouch,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes this time. “Ashlynn, I wasn’t assuming we would wind up in bed together. In fact, after the last time, I believe you made it clear you weren’t interested in me that way. But you can’t really look me in the eye and tell me you really believe you’re not gorgeous.”

“I have a mirror, Ben,” I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m not blind.”

“Maybe not,” he practically growls, and damn if that doesn’t turn me on, “but you certainly have a strange perception of yourself.”

“Look, maybe we shouldn’t talk about me,” I say quickly, desperate to get onto a safer topic. “What’s the name of your band?”

He sighs and shakes his head sadly, but thankfully lets the matter drop. “We’re the Mad Eyed Gazers,” he says at last.

My eyebrow quirks at the name. It sounds so familiar, and I rack my brain trying to remember where I’ve heard that line before. Like a flash bulb it suddenly hits me, “From Misfits? The Kinks, right?”

The surprise is written all over his face and he nods. “Yeah, how do you know about The Kinks?”

“Are you serious?” I scoff. “I love The Kinks. When I was a teenager, I thought if I ever had a daughter, I’d name her Lola. Until I figured out what that song was about. Now I’m sure I’d name her Lola,” I laugh, happy that he laughs along with me.

“They have to be before your time, though,” he points out stubbornly.

I just shrug. “So? So was Elvis and he’s still the King. So was Etta James, but her music still brings me to tears,” this conversation was definitely not on my flash cards, but it feels good to be able to talk about this with him. “Good music will always be good music.”

His eyes fix on me and I feel stripped bare in front of him. Like he’s seeing so much more of me than anyone’s ever seen before.

“So, ummm… do you do covers?”

My question seems to jar him out of wherever his mind had wandered off to. “Yeah, well, sometimes. I’ve written a few originals, but we fill in with covers.”

“You write songs?” I don’t know why I’m surprised, but he looks like he’d be more comfortable winning a knife fight in a dark alley than working out harmonics in a studio.

“Not just another pretty face,” he smirks at me.

By the time our food arrives, we’ve fallen into an easy conversation. I can’t say it’s deep and meaningful, we’re both sticking to safe topics, but it doesn’t feel like the typical first date stunted conversation either. He tells me about how Ash got him into the computer business, and I talk about growing up with La-la and Tone. He laughs easily, and that smile is enough to make my heart leap into my throat. His eyes crinkle a little at the corners when he’s amused, and I’m so enraptured with him, that I forget my embarrassment at having been stood up by what’s-his-name.

After dinner, Ben insists on walking me to my car. Once again, I’m caught off guard by how feminine he makes me feel. It’s late October, and the night is cool as we walk along the sidewalk. It’s late enough that most people have already gone home, so we don’t need to dodge around groups. It feels both intimate and relaxed, and I start to let my guard down.

“So, why’d you really decide to take yourself out to dinner in the middle of the week?” he asks as we cross the road.

“Well, I have to go to training most nights, and we’re coming up on the end of the season, so I have matches every weekend. I didn’t really want to go out at all, but I had to do something to get La-la’s mom off my back about giving Ryan a chance,” I answer without thinking. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I want to kick myself.

Ben slides a side-long glance at me. “Ryan, huh? Where was he?”

I shrug, but thankfully, we reach my car before I have to think of an excuse. “This is me,” I say, pointing to my Camaro. Ben lets out a low whistle, and I grin sheepishly. I bought it used, but it was still a bit of a splurge. Still, I love my car. “Thanks for dinner. And walking with me.”

He studies me, his eyes are shadowed by the overhead light of a street lamp, making him seem mysterious and slightly dangerous. His hand comes up and caresses my cheek. Without thinking, I lean into his touch, letting the warmth spread through me. “A pretty girl deserves to be escorted,” he says, his voice deep and husky.

I blink at his words, my spine instantly stiffening. “Ben, I-“

“I know, you don’t think you’re pretty,” he interrupts, moving a step closer to me. “And I know I’m too old for you, but Ashlynn, I never lie. You are beautiful. Whoever this guy you were supposed to spend tonight with is, he has no idea what he missed out on.”

I’m stunned speechless. We’re standing close enough now that every breath I take presses my chest against his and I’m sure he must be able to feel my rapid heartbeat as I stare into those intense eyes of his. The hand on my cheek slides around to the back of my neck, his other hand presses into my lower back, pulling me even closer to him. I don’t remember reaching up, but I realize my own arms are wrapped around him, holding his strong shoulders, letting his strength steady me. He lowers his lips to mine, and a shiver races down my spine.

At first, the kiss is gentle. His lips are soft yet firm on mine. I feel myself sinking, giving in to the sensations when his tongue swipes across my lower lip and I open up to him automatically. He deepens our connection, dipping his tongue in to massage my own, and I reciprocate, sucking his tongue gently until he moans quietly into my mouth. His fingers dig into my flesh, holding me close enough to feel the hardness building between our bodies.

My thoughts run away with me. Should I ask him to come home with me? I know I shouldn’t. It took me so long to shake off the feeling of giving him the wrong impression after the last time. I can’t seem to help myself around him, though. And this time, neither of us is drunk, that has to count for something, right?

Or does it make me even more of a slut to not have the excuse of alcohol for how much I want to feel him move inside of me?

I sigh as he steps back, not enough to break our contact completely, just enough that I can look into his eyes again. The dim light means I can’t really gauge the emotions on his face. My breathing is ragged, though, and I know he can tell how affected I am by him.

If this is my second chance with him, I’m not going to screw it up like I did last time. “Can I… can I give you a ride to your car?” I ask quietly, hoping I’m doing the right thing.

He blinks and steps back again, putting some space between us. I try not to wince, wondering if that was the wrong thing to say.

“No need,” he grins at me and pulls out a key fob from his pocket. He presses the button and the van parked behind me flashes its lights.

“You drive a kidnapper’s van?” I ask incredulously. Honestly, I think it’s the same van that’s used in the self-defense videos I’ve watched too many times. ‘If this is parked next to you in the parking lot, return to the store and ask for security to escort you out.’

Ben laughs and shakes his head. “I drive a van big enough to load all the band’s gear into for our gigs,” he explains. “I’ve thought about getting something smaller for driving around town, but that just means more maintenance and another bill to keep track of.”

“Maybe I can come see you play sometime,” I suggest, not quite ready to end the night yet.

“I’d like that,” he smiles at me. Neither one of us seem to know what else to say, but we don’t make a move to get into our respective cars and leave, either. I fiddle with my keys, trying to think of something to say, some way to delay not being in his company. “I suppose I should say goodnight,” Ben finally breaks the silence that’s stretched awkwardly between us. “I had a really good time tonight. Thanks for letting me sit with you.”

I grin back at him, feeling lighter than I have in a long time. “I had fun, too. Better than what I was expecting out of tonight.” I fidget some more, wanting to kiss him again, but not sure if that’s a good idea. If I throw myself at him, I’m probably not going to be able to stop. With a resigned sigh, I unlock my car door and climb into the driver’s seat.

It’s not until I’m halfway home that I realize I still don’t have his phone number.