"Sure. Just a beer for me," Maggie answered. "No more Tiki Punch for Russell though."
Alisha laughed and peeled off her leather jacket. It was entirely too hot inside for it now. "Here, take this. Be right back with our beers."
She leaned against the bar, watching the bartender work as she waited for him to take her order, humming along with the Bob Marley tune that blared through the speakers.
Big walked to the end of the bar for faster service and saw her resting casually against the bar, now sans jacket and looking hot as fuck. "Hey, Larrington!" he boomed over the din.
Alisha's head snapped up and she looked over, spying Big grinning wickedly at her. She lifted a hand in greeting. The smile tugged at her lips when he motioned her over with a slight jerk of his head. She wanted to stay right where she was, but her feet had other plans evidently, because she skirted around the other thirsty patrons to get to where he was standing. Reading his t-shirt Biff Tannen is a jerk made her burst into laughter. "Hey," she giggled up at him.
One eyebrow cocked, he stared questioningly down at her. "What?"
"I like your shirt."
He smirked and was somewhat surprised that she got the reference. But really, who doesn't like Back to the Future? "Thanks." His eyes traveled down the length of her body and took in the sight of the delicate swells of her breasts peeking out the top of her tank. No way was she wearing a bra under it, he thought, grinning lecherously. "I like yours, too."
It was a sad day indeed when she was growing accustomed to the filth that spewed from his mouth. She blamed her two performances that day and The Boss—and maybe the beads of sweat glistening off him and the scruff on his face—for disarming her. "You're a disgusting pig," she said without malice, even smiling slightly.
Big laughed then. "You sound less sure of that these days."
Alisha shrugged, not wanting to dwell on that idea, and looked over towards the bartender and then back at Big. "I don't suppose you get faster drink service since you're with the band, do you?"
Her dark eyes sparkled humorously in the neon light of a Parrot Bay sign, though her expression remained sober. The contradiction made him laugh. "Maybe. You trying to take advantage of me?"
"Only for the beer," she replied tartly.
"Hey, Tim! How about a few beers down here before I get so old my fucking balls shrivel up and fall off? “? He looked back and Alisha and smiled.
"Charming," she remarked dryly.
He lifted and dropped a shoulder carelessly, looking her over again. "Got your lift kit on tonight?" he asked, pointing to the hot red shoes on her feet. He thought those would look amazing hoisted in the air while he moved between her thighs.
"My what?" she asked, feeling the heat radiate off him in waves.
The corner of his mouth upturned. "Your lift kit—you're less short tonight, Shorty."
She glanced down at her feet and then back up at his face. "Oh."
"What can I get you, Big?" Tim, the bartender, asked.
Big got a few beers for himself the guys and lifted a brow at Alisha. "Two Miller Lites," she told the man in the Hawaiian shirt.
"Thirsty?" he asked, amused.
"One's for Maggie."
"So, you're not a lush?"
"Not tonight," she laughed.
The question on the tip of his tongue went unspoken when Tim reappeared with their beers, setting them down on the bar. She hadn't said anything about the band or the song and the pang of—God, the pang of disappointment—was quick and edgy and foreign as fuck. He wasn't about to do anything as gay as asking what she thought until the words burst forth from his mouth in a rare pussified display of weakness. "So, what'd you think of our band?" Christ on a crutch. Shut your fucking mouth.
Alisha's smiled slowly, amused by the internal war the thoughts in his head seemed to be waging. "You guys sound really great—loved Thunder Road. That's one of my all-time favorites." When he smirked proudly, his swagger back in full effect, she chuckled. "You were a little flat in parts, but overall very, very good."
He snorted and shook his head, drawing the beer bottle up to his lips. "Thanks, Larrington," he drawled sarcastically.
"Just trying to help," she stated and reached for two of the beers. "Can't wait to hear your next set." She tipped the bottle to her mouth and sipped, then clinked her bottle against his. "Thanks for the drinks—and my dedication—it's almost like we're friends now." The dimples winked in her cheeks as she smiled at him and turned to walk away.
"Hey, Larrington," he called after her.
She paused and turned back to him. "Yes, Big?"
"Between almost friends…your ass looks hot in those jeans." The grin on his face turned completely roguish when she blushed first, failing to mask it with a quick roll of her eyes.
"Big, make like a tree and get outta here!" she called, quoting the character that inspired his t-shirt. Alisha flashed him her million-watt smile and went to join her friends.
Chapter 7
Two weeks had passed since the Fire Extinguishers performance and since then Alisha had moved out of Maggie's luxury apartment and back into her own comfortable and modest digs. She'd taken Big's advice on not going back there alone. In fact, Maggie had talked both James and Big into checking out the apartment first. Alisha was secretly relieved due to her overactive imagination and the band of hobos she was convinced was trying on her clothes and sleeping in her bed ever since Big had given her the warning. Everything had been completely
