Downbeat (Lightning Strikes Book 4) Page 5

  I shrug. “Haven’t been outside since early this morning, so I wouldn’t know.”

  He saves his place with the bookmark and extends a hand to me. “Paxton. Wanted to make sure I properly introduce myself before you run off again.”

  Okay, his charm is off the charts. Clearly, he doesn’t care if I don’t want to know him.

  Brushing my palms against my pants, I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Take a seat,” he says, shoving one of the chairs out with his foot.

  “Can’t. I have some prep work I need to do before my replacement comes.” Not really, but it sounds like a good excuse.

  He tilts his head to the side. “Not even for a second?”

  “Nope,” I say, letting the “P” pop at the end.

  Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees. “You know I’m persistent, right?”

  “I’m catching that,” I say with a chuckle.

  Looking around, and against my better judgment, I sit on the edge of the chair and fold my hands in my lap.

  “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  I want to scream yes because I do need this job, but since no one is around, what’s the harm?

  “Guess not.”

  Paxton leans back with a smirk. “How often do you work here? And is it only in the mornings?”

  I quirk a brow. “Why? Feel like stalking me?”

  “Maybe.” The levity in his voice indicates his amusement. I can’t help but smile.

  I lean forward, mimicking his previous pose. “How do I know you’re not gonna turn into a creeper and kill me in my sleep?”

  His deep, throaty laugh settles the butterflies in my stomach. “Guess you’ll have to trust me.”

  “I’m not sure you’ve earned my trust yet. We’ve run into each other three times and I only learned your name today.”

  “And whose fault was that?”

  “Hey,” I say, holding my hands up in defense. “I can’t help it if work keeps me busy.”

  “Okay, fair point,” he concedes.

  I lean back and cross my arms over my chest. “Any business meetings today? Or is this your regular attire?”

  “No more than usual. I’m on a break, so I thought I’d swing down for an afternoon pick-me-up.”

  I look at my watch. “You do know it’s not afternoon yet, right?”

  He shrugs. “Feels like it should be. Been up since five this morning.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  I scoff. “You make that sound like it’s early. I’m almost out the door by then.”

  “Hey, when you’ve been used to waking up at ten or eleven, five is a big deal.”

  “Uh huh.” I roll my eyes for effect. “So what did you do this morning?”

  Paxton taps his chin. “The usual.”

  “Which is?”

  “Now who wants to know more about the other?” He smirks. Heat flushes my cheeks, lighting them instantly on fire.

  “I—”

  He places a hand on my knee. “I’m kidding.” The minute he removes it, the area feels cold, though the lingering tingle helps. “I went to the beach and ran a few laps. Helps to clear my head. Then I swam for a bit, came home, showered, went through a few business things, then came here.”

  Images of him running shirtless up and down the beach infiltrate my thoughts. Water dripping from what I assume is a sculpted chest also takes front stage to my inner eye. I wiggle in my seat, as subtly as I can, and will those tempting thoughts to leave.

  “Yeah, you have a rough life.”

  “It could be worse.”

  “Oh yeah?” I challenge.

  He leans forward. “I could hate what I’m doing and be content to settle for the wrong thing for the rest of my life. But I’m doing what I love. Not many people can say that about their jobs.”

  No, they can’t. I sure as hell can’t. This isn’t my dream, my passion. Hell, it’s not even something I ever wanted to do in high school. But, it helps my mom and gives me the flexibility with Jayce and school, so beggars can’t be choosers.

  “Very true.”

  We pause, both looking down. I really should get back to work. I’m surprised no one has walked through the door yet. Yeah, I get the lulls and downtimes every so often, but never like this.

  “Do you listen to music?” he asks out of the blue.

  I blink a few times to process his strange question. “Uh, yeah? Who doesn’t?”

  Paxton chuckles. “You’d be surprised. What do you listen to?”

  “Country,” I say, without hesitation.

  He scrunches his nose up like he’d smelled something funny. “I said music.”

  “That is music.” I laugh. “What do you listen to. Wait, let me guess.” I tap my lips. “Not ska since you’re obviously not a native Californian.”

  “The accent give me away?” Again with the head tilt and smirk.

  “Pretty much.” I’ll keep the fact that I love it to myself. “You don’t strike me as the rap-type either.”

  “Are you trying to analyze me?”

  Another wave of heat coats my cheeks. “No, just using deductive reasoning.”

  “Uh huh. How about I save you the trouble. I’m a rock guy. Alternative, to be exact. Lots of old school mixed with new.”

  I stare at him blankly. “Huh?”

  “Alice in Chains?”

  Nothing.

  “Stone Temple Pilots?”

  “The who?”

  He rolls his eyes. “You have to know The Cranberries.”

  I shrug. “Sounds familiar. I’d have to hear something by them.”

  Paxton digs his phone out of his pocket. Tapping a few buttons, he places it on the table between us. Low piano notes fill the space; a sad beat following. Then, a gravely male voice spills out. You can feel the power of the lyrics as he sings with passion and conviction.

  “This isn’t The Cranberries. It’s Bad Wolves doing a cover of ‘Zombie,’ one of their songs, but it’s incredible,” he says, tapping the beat onto his thigh. “He had asked for the lead singer to perform on the cover, but she died before that could happen.”

  I frown. “That’s so sad.”

  He nods. “It is. But I can’t think of a better compliment to give a band than performing one of their songs.”

  Make sense. Isn’t the old saying “imitation is the highest form of flattery”? Paxton even sings a few of the words; barely audible but loud enough that I can hear his voice. And man, he can sing.

  As the song ends, and the words really sink in, I find myself in new territory. I’ve always enjoyed music, but not like this. Paxton, on the other hand, has a real passion. It’s obvious in his movements, the way he closes his eyes during the powerful parts of the song. I listen to fill the void. He listens to fill his soul.

  Before I can dive into anything else, duty calls. The annoying bell chimes, bringing me back to reality.

  I stand and flash Paxton a real smile. “Thanks for the talk. It was nice to formally meet you again.”

  “Hey,” he says, jumping to his feet. “Any chance you don’t have a rule about going out with customers?”

  Chewing on my bottom lip, I debate my answer. Technically, I don’t have any rules about dating except one. I just…don’t.

  “Not a good idea,” I say.

  As I walk toward the counter, he calls out behind me, “You know I’m persistent, right?”

  With a laugh, I ignore him as best I can and help the gentleman at the counter. Dressed in a business suit with perfectly coiffed hair, I’m guessing executive. A far cry from the man still staring at me surreptitiously over his book.

  And yet, the suit doesn’t do anything for me. If anything, it reminds me of Craig and his MBA friends. Perfectly polished and needing to impress everyone.

  Paxton’s hazel eyes don’t seem like such an issue now. It was stupid to begin with, considering he’s the exact opposite of Craig.

&nbs
p; “What? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that,” I say, trying to focus on what I’m supposed to be doing.

  Mr. Suit gives a cocky grin as if I was already a sure thing.

  “Well, I was hoping to get a caramel macchiato, but I guess I could get your number instead.”

  Ugh. Creep. “Unfortunately, my number isn’t on the menu, but I can grab the macchiato for you. Small, medium, or large?”

  He straightens his tie and runs a hand down it, drawing attention to his well-cut torso. “Are you sure it’s not on the menu?”

  “Yep,” I say, letting the irritation come through my voice. “Positive.”

  I turn and make his drink without another word. He needs to go. I’m so caught into my head that I don’t notice the turned-up corner of the mat. Time slows almost to a stop as I have an out-of-body experience. The cup tumbles through the air. The light brown liquid streams out as the black lid flies off. Then, in either a case of irony or karma, Mr. Suit gets covered in the sticky sweet liquid.

  “Goddamn it!” he yells, frantically swiping his hands against his now soaked jacket. “I have a business meeting in a half hour.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say, desperate to hold back my laugh. I’m not trying to be glib, but I have a horrible habit of laughing in uncomfortable situations. Funerals, when people fall or injure themselves…all of it sends me into a fit of giggles. And I really do feel horrible about ruining this poor man’s suit, but after his actions, I can’t say I’m too sorry about it.

  “Just forget it.” He storms toward the door, whipping it open and practically slamming it behind him.

  One look from Paxton is all it takes to break the dam to release the giggles.

  “Served him right,” he says with a nod.

  “Yeah, but I do feel bad about it.”

  He shuts his book again. “Don’t. He was a douche canoe and didn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

  I quirk a brow. “Like you?”

  “I’m different.” Without warning, he stands and closes the distance, leaving only the counter separating us. “You’ll see.”

  Paxton gives me a wink and leaves me in a stupor as he heads out the door.

  Somehow I get the feeling this won’t be the last time I see him. The thought thrills me more than it should.

  Flirting with Kylie has now become my favorite pastime. Forget baseball. This is way more fun and entertaining. Just not for the nation. No, I’m keeping this one all to myself.

  A solid week of constantly stopping by has earned me two free coffees and an enormous smile, accompanied by her musical laugh. My truly favorite part is right before I walk through the door and she hasn’t seen me yet. She stands there, arm propping up her head as she stares off into space or concentrates on scrubbing some stain near the coffee machine. The minute the bell jingles, her whole face comes alive, grinning from ear to ear and even a tinge of pink to coat her cheeks.

  It’s her eyes, though, I can’t get enough of. Bright and clear like the sky. Hardly a cloud showing. If she ever has a bad day, she sure hides it well.

  Brecken shoves a hot dog into his mouth, wiping away a dribble of mustard from the corner of his lips. “Where do you go all the time in the mornings?”

  I can’t chew slow enough to delay the answer. I’m not quite ready to share Kylie with them, mainly because I don’t know how to describe the situation. I’m her friendly stalker?

  “There’s a coffee shop down the street that I really love. And after dealing with the morning crap, I really need a good pick-me-up.”

  At least our morning meetings happen over the phone or at Kade’s house. And we all live close by, which helps not dealing with downtown traffic.

  “I hear you there. If it wasn’t for Lizzie’s love of caffeine, I think I’d be a zombie.” He pauses and narrows his eyes. “Speaking of, why are you going out when we have a constant supply of coffee at home?”

  I toss the napkin in the garbage can next to us and start walking down the sidewalk, hoping he’ll take the hint. He does but still stares at me, expecting an answer.

  “Sometimes I want more than black coffee.”

  “Huh.” Breck drops the subject and tilts the brim of his cap down lower. “Should we head back?”

  Glancing at my watch, I nod. “Suppose we should. We’re supposed to be in the studio in an hour.”

  We walk down the sidewalk, always conscious of the world around us. Only a few people pause to stare. Not unusual. We don’t get rushed by paparazzi or crazed fans. I don’t think we’re that popular. Besides, we’re normal human beings doing normal things. Life hasn’t changed that much.

  Brecken stops in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a few people to quickly change direction and say a few choice words under their breath.

  “This the place? It’s the only one I’ve seen that wasn’t some chain store.”

  How did I not notice we were heading right for Grounded? Probably because it’s on the path we always take toward the beach for our morning exercise routine.

  Looking inside, a tuft of blonde hair catches my attention before focusing on the face below. She’s always so relaxed, even when she has a line out the door, like now.

  I nod, trying to keep my emotions in check. “Yeah, this place is amazing. Best coffee I’ve had in a while.”

  “Looks like it does well for itself. If we weren’t on a schedule and the line wasn’t crazy, I’d say we stop in, but our time isn’t exactly our own right now.”

  “When is it ever?” We laugh and continue back to the condo. I subtly take a last look at Kylie, who spots me at the last minute and flashes a smile my way.

  Luckily, Brecken took the lead and missed our brief interaction. I’ll make a note to stop by tomorrow and say hi.

  Lizzie pokes her head up from the couch, pausing the movie she was watching when we walk through the door. “You’re back early.”

  Breck cups her cheeks and kisses her. I continue my journey to the fridge for a bottle of water.

  “Gotta head up to Kade’s for rehearsal.” Once again, Kade has built himself an on-site studio, completely approved by our label. Always the control freak.

  “Oh, good. I’ve been meaning to head that way to spend some time with Lyric. Mind if I tag along?”

  They look expectantly at me like I’m their keeper or something. “I don’t care. I’ll take my bike then.”

  Lizzie frowns. “You’re doing it again.”

  I roll my eyes. “Stop. Maybe I want to cruise around after rehearsal or I have plans and don’t want to hold you guys up.”

  “Do you?” Brecken challenges.

  “Technically not yet, but the night is young.” I mean, it is Friday night. Can’t see myself sitting around the house doing nothing.

  “Well, after you’re done doing whatever it is you’re doing, want to go hang out at Sin?”

  Lizzie has been obsessed with that nightclub since the first time Brecken took her there. It is our favorite way to kill time, now that we can’t go back to Landslide. Too many people recognized us. Sin is popular amongst the stars, so it’s not a big deal when celebrities show up. We can blend in with the crowd without having to cause a scene.

  I shrug. “I’m game.”

  She claps her hands. “Yay! Now I need to figure out what to wear.” Lizzie darts back to their room, leaving Brecken laughing in her wake.

  “I think she’s excited.”

  Tossing him a bottle of water, I nod. “When is she not excited? She’s been on a constant high since moving here. All the sunshine is going to her brain.”

  “Hey, I’ll do whatever it takes to make her happy.”

  This I know. Speaking of…

  “So, when are you gonna put a ring on it?”

  Breck looks down the hall and takes a seat next to me on the couch. “I have the ring, just waiting on the perfect time to give it to her.”

  “Is there ever a perfect time?”

  He looks down and fidgets with the cushio
n. “I’m well aware she could think it’s too soon, even though we really should have been together for years, so I don’t want to scare her off, considering she upended her life moving here. Maybe this summer, on our anniversary of seeing each other again.”

  “And cue the Hallmark music in the background.”

  He takes a swig from the water bottle and cocks a brow. “One day you’ll be here, and I can’t wait to harass you about it.”

  “Gotta find a girl first.” As if on cue, Kylie pops into my brain. I fight the urge to smile as I think about her standing behind that counter, smiling at everyone she meets. I wonder what she does outside of work? I make a mental note to ask her next time I go down there, which will probably be tomorrow.

  Lizzie bounds out of the room and twirls, showing off what I’m assuming is a new dress.

  “How’s this?”

  Breck’s eyes light up, almost glowing as he rakes his gaze across her body.

  And now I should leave.

  Leaving the lovebirds alone, I head to the garage and find my bike. Swinging my leg over the side, I bring the engine to life, letting the roar echo in the quiet, confined space.

  Power. Energy. Excitement. That’s what this bike states as I pull to the surface and exit onto the street, heading straight for Kade’s house. There’s something about the open road that clears my mind. Not that I have a lot on it right now. Other than the constant reminder that I’m the only single guy left in the group. It shouldn’t bother me, and I can’t figure out why it does. I’ve never had a long-term relationship before. Anything over three months hardly sticks. No reason other than it doesn’t work out. She gets bored, or my schedule amps up and I’m not focusing all my attention on her. That’s the common response I get when I ask why after I get the “it’s not you, it’s me” line.

  I think the older I get, the more I’m done with the head games of dating. I know my career isn’t typical, but whoever I find needs to understand I will be gone for periods of time. They have to accept that and not worry every day about whether or not I’m being faithful and true. Carla, the last one, accused me daily of cheating on her because we were playing more gigs than before and were on the road all the time. This was before we hit it big, obviously. I’m sure she would have stuck it out knowing how much she could leech off me. She was more interested in the title of being my girlfriend than actually being my girlfriend. Didn’t want anyone stepping into her spot, not that it really was hers to begin with.