"Damn, Larrington, you sing one pop song and now ya wanna bust my balls and write a contract to sing with my band?" he asked, teasing.
"I'm not—busting your balls, Big. But a contract is a good, good idea, even if we are friends now…you should always put stuff in writing!" She waved a bar napkin in his face. "We'll use this."
"So, we're full on friends now?" he grinned cheekily.
"Uh huh," she agreed, her dimples flashing in her cheeks. She took the pen off the table and began crafting the "contract" for her to sing with Fire Extinguishers for a night, finding even penning her name a difficult challenge. So she drew a stick figure with long hair and a little arrow pointing to it that said Me with a star next to it. She could feel Big's breath on her cheek as he looked over her shoulder while she worked and the rumble of laughter in his chest. She may have imagined that she leaned back against him. (She totally didn't imagine it) Next, she Adam a picture of him and he then started complaining about his lack of guns in the picture, so he snatched the pen from her hand. "Hey!" she cried.
"I'll give it back, Larrington, Jesus! I need to make a few improvements first." He Adam tits on her stick figure and a short, short skirt.
"My boobs are small, Big, not those big melons," Alisha insisted.
He looked her over and smirked. "They're not that small, Larrington. You've got a mouthful, and really, what more does a guy need?" He laughed when she smacked his shoulder, though the "menacing" look she tried to give didn't quite reach her eyes or have the effect she probably desired.
Big Adam bulging muscles on his arms and a fire extinguisher in the middle of the napkin. And he added in a tambourine, so she'd stop saying the goddamn word tambourine. "Anything else?" he asked. She shook her head and reached for his beer. He pulled it out of reach and shook his head. "I think you've had your fill, Larrington."
She gave him two thumbs down and yelled "Boo!"
"Come on, let's get out of here."
"But you haven't done your song yet."
"Larrington, I just did it!" he lied. The scrunched look of concentration on her face was seriously cute.
"Okay…I'm sorry I don't remember it. I'm sure you were great…though maybe just a smidge flat in parts. I could help you with that if you want. I'm a very talented singer." She smiled and crawled out of the booth, fumbling to put on her coat.
He snorted and put on his own coat. "Thanks, Larrington," he muttered.
She shrugged and gathered her things from the table, shoving them haphazardly into her bag. "Where are we going?"
"I'm taking you home," he informed her, leading her towards the exit.
"Oh, Big, I can get home by myself," she insisted, stumbling onto the sidewalk. His arms came around her middle and kept her from taking a header into the concrete. "Oops!" she laughed.
"Sure you can, Shorty," he drawled sarcastically, getting a good whiff of her perfume and shampoo. She smelled like citrus and mint. "But why don't you let me help you anyway?" She turned and peered up at him under hooded, long-lashed eyes, her dimples winking. Goddammit. Did she not have any idea what effect that look had?
"Thanks, friend," she murmured softly. "Ooh, there's a cab," she shouted excitedly. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she whistled.
He poured her into the cab and slid in next to her, repeating her address to the driver after she mumbled incoherently.
She'd gone quiet on the short ride to her building, her head resting against the cool pane of the window. He'd watched her briefly, but felt kind of like a pussy and a creeper all in one, so he turned and looked out his own window. Tossing some bills to the driver the cab stopped, he leaned over her and patted her face. "Come on, Larrington, time to wake up." The soft little moan that passed through her lips stirred the lust he had for her in his gut. Not the time, fuckwit.
She woke up enough to climb out of the cab with his help and she shuffled along the sidewalk, muttering something he couldn't discern. Realizing it would take approximately a decade to get to her apartment at this speed, he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
"Mmmfph," she mumbled, stirring awake. "Hey, why am I upside down? Big, why are you carrying me?" she asked quietly, making him chuckle.
"Because, drunk ass, you walk slower than my ninety-year-old grandma with a broken leg."
She giggled.
"Hey, this is like the first time we met," she told him, as the realization dawned on her.
"Yeah, only the first time you were dumb ass and now you're just a drunk ass. Either way, Biggerone to the rescue."
"Biggerone," she laughed. "You're funny. Bigger—Biggeroni!" Peals of laughter rippled through the air.
He got to the fifth floor and unlocked her door, carrying her through the apartment and into her bedroom. Seriously? He was in Alisha's bedroom with no chance at getting laid. Fuck my life. Again. He set her down on her feet and helped her with the buttons on her coat which she peeled off and tossed onto the immaculate floor along with her scarf. She kicked off her shoes and crawled on the bed, sitting up on her knees. Her lips curled into a seductive smile, her lashes lowered as she slowly looped her arms around his neck. Fuck.
"Big…thanks for taking my mind off things tonight," she whispered.
This was going down a very dangerous path that he wasn't equipped to walk away from. "No sweat, Larrington. It was very educational for me," he teased, fighting to keep his hands at his sides and not put them where he
