Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"I'll buy you another." His voice had deepened. That was the first thing Kathy's brain registered after slamming into him. Well, actually that was the second. The first was that he was tall. Really tall. She had to tilt her head back to look him in the eye. At least that's what she suspected she'd have to do if she pried her eyes off the floor and the puddle of tea they were both now standing in.

"Another?" she asked, forcing herself to look up as she tried to muddle through just what he was referring to. He grinned and her stomach did that flipping thing again and she tried not to grimace.

"Coffee," he said – the single word so deep and rough that she nearly sighed. As it was, she had to fight to keep her knees from going weak. This was ridiculous, she scolded herself. She was twenty-two, not thirteen. Grown women do not swoon – her life was not a Jane Austen novel. The best she could hope for was a Bridget Jones knock-off and even that was pushing it.

"Tea," she corrected him because that's what you do when you run into the love of your teenage life – you correct him when he's offering to buy you things and make him wish he'd run in the other direction the moment he'd set eyes on you.

"What?" Now it was his turn to look confused.

"It's tea. Well, chai, actually. A latte. They're really good. I mean, I'm sure you know that. Or maybe you don't like tea. I wouldn't know, you know. I guess. Um ..." Oh crap, the rambling was starting again. She bit her lip and crossed her arms, the empty mug dangling from her fingertips, dripping the last little bit of her drink down the side of her sweater. She was trying desperately to look casual and unaffected by the six foot-something rock god staring down at her, looking for all the world like he was going to burst out laughing or sweep her off her feet. Either option had become scarily possible in her addled brain.

He scratched his head, ruffling up his already messy hair and he flashed another lopsided grin. "Oh, okay. I'll buy you another chai, then. How's that sound?"

"Lovely." If she was at a desk, she would have slammed her head onto it. Lovely?

He laughed and she forced a smile, hoping she didn't look as embarrassed as she felt. "Awesome."

XxXxXxXxXx

Shit, Jack thought to himself, did I really just say 'awesome'?

XxXxXxXxXx

Jack nodded along, his hair falling in his eyes as he leaned back slightly, attacking the strings of his guitar, the rhythm coming fast and furious as he hit his groove. It was finally happening. The other guys followed along perfectly – well, Steve mumbled the lyrics and flubbed them a bit, but they could work on that. For once, the drums were holding steady with the beat and their newest addition, Trevor on keyboards, was living up to his reputation as being pretty hardcore on the Casio. Even the clarinet didn't sound like complete shit for a change.

He closed his eyes, letting the moment wash over him. He could see it all. A stage. Blinding lights streaming from behind and above. Screaming, crying, chanting, fans singing along, calling his name. And girls. Lots and lots of girls. Crying, reaching out, trying to grab him.

He grinned as the song entered the final chorus, but something happened, pulling him out of his reverie – just as one hot blonde managed to latch onto his t-shirt, seconds from tearing it off. Brad slammed his sticks on the high hat and groaned. Jack opened his eyes as the last few notes puttered out from his guitar and George squeaked out a dejected honk on his clarinet. Steve kept singing, but he was never the quickest guy in a room – Bobby liked to joke that he was a couple cans short of a six pack. Bobby could be an ass, but Jack had to agree with him on that one.