Page 11 of Rock Bottom

“Hey, Lee, the kitchen’s closed!” The chef called out to me.

“Got it.” I waved to let him know I’d heard him.

“How much do you have to clean?” Zeke asked as I started putting things away behind the bar.

“Not a lot. I’ll put away the fruit I cut up, juice goes in the fridge, and then I wipe down the bar, counters back here, and all the tables.”

“Want some help?”

I shook my head. “I’ve got it. But you can talk to me while I work.”

“Sure. Tell me something about you that no one knows.”

I chuckled. “I wouldn’t even know where to start. I’m probably too introverted for my own good. At least that’s what Aunt Meg tells me. She says I need to take time to enjoy life, that I’m letting it pass me by.”

“Your Aunt Meg sounds like a smart woman.”

I’d come around the outside of the bar to start wiping down the regular tables. I paused in front of him and rested one elbow on the edge of the bar. “I think maybe I had to grow up too fast when my mom died. Between school and grieving, I didn’t have the heart to party. I figured there would be plenty of time for that kind of thing when I got to college, but then Aunt Meg got her diagnosis. And even though the meds are finally starting to work, she falls a lot. That first year, there was so much trial and error figuring out what combination of drugs would help for her different issues, I was always checking on her, making sure she was okay. I was terrified I might lose her too, because she’s all the family I have. So, boys and partying and all that were the furthest things from my mind.”

“But she’s okay now, right?” he asked quietly. “Or at least doing as okay as she can, since there’s no cure?”

I nodded. “Yes. She’s much better now. Even though she keeps falling. She uses a cane now and we’re trying to get a wheelchair for the days she feels weak.”

“Then things are better?”

“Yes.”

“So maybe you deserve a night of fun. With me.” When he looked at me, it was like no one existed but the two of us. And I didn’t understand why he had this effect on me when no one else ever had.

I swallowed. “I… I’m probably not what you’re used to, Zeke.”

“What am I used to?” His eyes never left mine.

“Women with… experience. Who know what you want.”

“Oh, I think you know exactly what I want.”

“Zeke, I’m…” I couldn’t just tell him I was a virgin.

Could I?

“You’re what?” He reached out, brushing a strand of my hair off my shoulders before resting his hand on the side of my neck. It was a good thing the couple at the end of the bar had left because I nearly moaned at the warmth of his hand and the electricity that shot through me the moment he made contact with my skin.

“I have to clean up,” I whispered, scurrying away.

Just that small touch had sent me into a state of arousal I’d never felt before. I knew about sex, understood the mechanics of it, and had a few girlfriends who’d told me about their experiences. It sounded like something I wanted to try, but someone like Zeke, who’d undoubtedly slept with hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women, wouldn’t want to spend the night teaching me the specifics of how to please a man in bed.

Would he?

I wiped down the tables almost furiously, desperate to either talk myself into or out of whatever it was we were doing. I wasn’t naïve enough to think he wanted anything beyond sex, but I’d promised myself I would rid myself of my virginity if and when the opportunity presented itself as long as the man was someone I genuinely liked. And I liked Zeke. Much more than I’d thought I would when I’d begun researching the band.

The man I’d been talking to the last few hours was nothing like the enigmatic musician I’d seen on stage last night or the aloof celebrity dodging a journalist I’d run into after the show. No, that was Big Z. This was Zeke, who was someone else entirely. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but I did. Maybe we were both pretending to be someone else. In his case, it was when he performed; in my case, it was when I came to work. Shy, virginal Presley wouldn’t get the tips she needed to help Aunt Meg with the bills, so I pretended to be a flirtatious waitress named Lee when I had to.

I was being ridiculous.

Zeke was bored and wanted to get laid, so I had to decide if this was it, the night I’d finally learn what sex was all about.

He was gorgeous, with his long dark brown hair and those two different colored eyes. I could stare at them all night. He was a big guy, probably six or seven inches taller than me, which said something since I was five-ten. He had a strong, masculine jawline and broad shoulders, which I really liked. And his voice. I’d been enjoying his voice quite a bit. The idea of him whispering sweet nothings to me in that deep baritone made my girlie parts clench with excitement.

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