The First Night Read online

  “Holy shit!” Sharon clapped her hands together. “You did!”

  “What the hell? Be quiet!” Kayla hissed, glancing around to see if anyone was paying them any attention.

  “I’ve heard he’s like that, the drunker they are and all. And you, my dear, were wasted. Have you heard from him? I don’t doubt it at all if you haven’t.”

  “How do you know what he’s like?” Kayla asked, aware of the defensive tone in her voice. Gannon didn’t touch her when she was drunk. She woke up completely clothed and alone. He made her pancakes. And then he pleasured her, something she wouldn’t soon forget. Unfortunately.

  Sharon waved her hands in front of her, shaking her head as if she were trying to erase some of what she’d said. Or magically clarify. “All I know is my younger brother, Scott, went to college with him. He has quite the reputation. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest to see him move back and open the bar. Apparently that’s what he’s good at...partying. I’m not judging or anything, because God knows I like to party. I’m just saying be careful around him. If you have any kind of emotional reaction to whomever you fuck.”

  “I don’t…get emotional.” She took another gulp of water. “What do you mean he moved back?”

  “He used to live here,” Sharon said, getting up and tossing her uneaten food in the trash. She glanced at the clock on the break room wall. “Break’s up, time to get back to it.”

  * * * *

  Finally, Gannon was caught up with his work. What he’d done earlier had taken up most of his day and he’d been worried he wouldn’t get the bar ready in time to open it. He finished stocking the bar and grabbed a glass from the shelf, filling it with beer from the tap. It had been five days since he’d seen Kayla. Five days too long. He should’ve called, he knew that. But what would he say? How could he speak to her honestly without her knowing who he was—the nerd, the pimple-faced geek who’d been ridiculed in high school. And how could he tell her with the fear of rejection eating at his mind? He thought not speaking to her would make it all easier. It didn’t.

  He knew the fuck-them-and-leave-them attitude he’d had in college was due to the treatment he’d received years before, but Kayla had never been like that to him. She was never anything but kind, and he had somehow become the asshole that chased her away.

  Luck. It was pure luck that he’d had her on Saturday, and he’d fucked it up.

  Gannon placed the untouched glass of beer in the sink, walked to the main entrance, flipped on the neon sign, and unlocked the door.

  * * * *

  Kayla put her car in park, turned off the engine, and walked up to her house. As soon as her feet hit the front porch, she did a double-take at her front yard. The once vacant flower bed along her sidewalk was now rich with small lavender and white flowers. The greenery on either side of her front door had been plucked of their dead leaves, trimmed, and watered. The grass was cut. The hedges were trimmed.

  The smile of awe plastered on her face faded when she thought of how the front yard improved.

  Gannon.

  He’d been to her house.

  He’d waited until she was at work then he snuck over to her house and fixed up her yard as if it were supposed to be some grand gesture. Or maybe he thought he’d been hired. He probably wanted money. That would be next. She would get a bill in the mail. He should have fucking called. That was all she wanted…and to see him again.

  Kayla stomped in the house and slammed the door behind her. How dare he?

  She went straight to her kitchen table and grabbed a course book. Do not think about him. Not the way he worked his tongue. Not the way his cock fit inside her as if it were made just for her. Not the way he kissed her, and especially not the way she felt when she was around him—fierce and sexy and wanted. No! She had a test on Tuesday, five days to study.

  “Should’ve done this shit last Saturday. Do not think about him,” she mumbled. Thoughts of him would be a distraction she didn’t need and one that would be hard to control.

  She threw the book on the couch, fixed a glass of sweet tea, and plopped on the sofa. She thumbed through her notes on Educational Linguistics. Kayla devoured information, her mind only drifting to Gannon a few times, until her stomach growled. She looked at the clock and shook her head, understanding the demands of her stomach. It was seven-thirty and with no food in her house, nothing she wanted anyway, she would have to go out.

  Fifteen minutes later, after she’d changed clothes, brushed through her hair, washed her face, and applied a new coat of mascara and lip gloss, she was pulling out of her driveway. Less than ten minutes later, she was turning into the parking lot at Night. She meant to visit a drive-thru for food, but then why had she taken the time to freshen up? And why did her car lead her here? She barely remembered making the drive.

  Kayla put the car in park and left the engine running, the motor seeming to churn at the exact same pace as her mind. She thought about when Gannon told her ‘I want to see you’ just like the man in her dream the first night she met Gannon. How with the man in her dream she was hesitant and shy, but with Gannon—it seemed right, her only hesitation was leaving his lips. “Fuck! You’re officially a fucking crazy-ass stalker! You wanted sex, and you got it, now leave it alone.”

  She grabbed the gear shift and slammed it into drive. As she did someone tapped on her window, startling her, and she screamed, burying her face in her hands. When she heard the recognizable laugh, she looked up to see Sharon.

  “Hell yes! I knew you’d come,” Sharon declared when Kayla rolled her window down.

  “I’m not staying. I shouldn’t be here.” She shook her head as she spoke. Tears threatened to form out of frustration. She fought them off and won.

  “Are you kidding me? Get out and enjoy yourself.” Sharon pulled on her cigarette and spoke as she exhaled. “He was just a drunk fuck, right?”

  Kayla swallowed hard. The words stung a little more than she wanted. It wasn’t a drunk fuck, it was a day after…an all day after the drunk fuck, and it was more than that. And she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  Outwardly she agreed with Sharon, rolled her window up, and exited the car.

  Internally, she was a mess.

  There was no band, only Karaoke. The lights were dimmed, smoke was already accumulating in the air, and the woman on stage singing was having trouble keeping in tune. But Kayla wasn’t surprised. No one could sing Poker Face like Lady Gaga.

  Kayla handed a five dollar bill to Sharon. “Will you get me a beer? I’m going to get a table in the back.”

  “Sure, doll. No tequila?” Sharon joked.

  “Hell no,” Kayla said, and she disappeared into the darkness without looking up. She settled at the same table from last Friday, keeping her eyes focused on random people on the dance floor.

  “For you,” a man said.

  Her insides jerked until she realized it wasn’t his voice. She looked up. Vic. He’d placed an odd looking glass in front of her. It was wide with a red colored liquid. In the middle of the red was a shot glass with dark liquid.

  “It’s a Jager-bomb,” he said. “Try it. Red Bull and Jager, perfect for after work, gives you energy and a buzz.”

  “Eh, not for me, thanks though.” She forced out a half-smile, trying not to be rude, as her gaze drifted to the bar in search of Sharon.

  Instead of her friend, Kayla spotted Gannon. He was wearing a black, tight v-neck shirt, and he looked gorgeous. Leaning across the bar, he brushed hair from a tiny bottle-blonde’s face. Kayla’s breath caught. On instinct, and because she had nothing better to do, she turned the unfamiliar drink up, gulping until it was gone. The burn somehow soothed her chest, not in the same way as tequila, but the stout taste of liquor told her it would do the job good enough.

  “Thanks,” she said to Vic. “Where’s Missy?”

  “Home.” He pulled up a chair and took a seat across from Kayla. “We do our own thing, most of the time.”

  A new per
son was on stage, a man this time was howling over the music. Something country. He sounded more in tune than the woman who’d sung before him.

  Kayla fixed on Vic’s smile. She liked his teeth, straight and white. His light brown hair was short but not too short. He had a nice face, clean shaven, and a small dent in his chin that she found charming. Kayla leaned in toward the center of the table to speak over the singer. “Do you come here, to the bar, much?”

  “Vic! Hey!” Sharon said, coming out of nowhere. She put Kayla’s beer on the table. “I went ahead and got you two. They were two-fifty a piece. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Thanks.” Kayla chugged one halfway down in one breath, straining through the smoky air toward the bar. Gannon wasn’t in sight. He’d most likely disappeared upstairs to his apartment with the blonde.

  Sharon proceeded to hug Vic. And then kiss Vic. When she came up for air, she noticed the empty shot glass. “Who did the bomb?”

  Kayla gave a quick wave of her hand. “That would be me. I could probably use another.” She looked at the two bottles in front of her. “After I finish these.”

  “I’ve got to have a Jager-bomb. I’ll be right back.” And with that, Sharon vanished from the table, her long blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders.

  “Fridays with Missy, Tuesdays and Thursdays alone,” Vic said, “for a few hours…Missy’s idea.”

  It took Kayla a second to realize he was answering the question she’d asked before Sharon showed up. Still, she didn’t know how to respond so she just nodded then finished her first beer and started the second. She peeled the label off both, her head feeling light, her lips going numb. The DJ handed the microphone over to a different man and less than a minute later the man was howling a Willie Nelson tune.

  “I’m glad to see you out again,” Vic said, sounding genuine. He relaxed in his chair and turned his head for a glimpse at the stage then back to her.

  “Me too, I think.” She drank most of the second beer. “I’ll be right back.” With her thumb, she pointed toward the hall leading to the restrooms and stood up. When she did the alcohol hit her at once and she was forced to grab the table for stability.

  Vic laughed and rose from his seat. “Do you need help?”

  Kayla shook her head, partially to deny Vic, but mostly to shake the sensation of someone staring at her. She turned to face the bar and there was Gannon, standing behind the counter again, his gaze burning into her. Kayla’s lips smirked on one side and she placed her hand on Vic’s chest as he moved next to her. “Yeah, I could use some help.”

  Vic put an arm around her waist. His touch sending a flash memory of the two of them on the dance floor the only other time she’d been there. Her face went flush. She ran a hand through her hair, leaving some of it dangling to shield the redness on her cheeks from Vic.

  They made it to the bathroom door, and she looked up at him smiling. “I’ll just be a minute, okay?”

  * * * *

  Gannon couldn’t believe the woman sitting at the bar had nearly set her hair on fire from her cigarette. When he noticed the smoke drifting from it, he ran straight over and slapped the cigarette from her hand, then smoothed the scorched hair, making sure it wasn’t burning. As he did, he saw Kayla sitting with Vic, the guy who’d been pursuing her on Friday night…the man who, together with his wife, would have taken advantage of her and fucked her no matter how drunk she was. He’d seen it plenty of times in the last few months with that couple. They weren’t shy about their search for sexual escapades, and he damn sure didn’t want her to have anything to do with it.

  Not her…his Kayla.

  Gannon’s skin went hot with anger at the thought of someone else touching her, and all he wanted to do was rush over and knock the hell out of the guy. How would Kayla react though? After all, he never called.

  His past self, the raging asshole, never thought about consequences. He always acted, or rather reacted, defeating any obstacle in his path to get what he wanted. With her though, he had to think, had to prepare, and he was certain the cost of showing his ass would be more than he could handle. He imagined she would be the type to never speak to him again.

  Staying in the background and giving her a chance to find out what kind of person Vic was on her own was the best way to deal with the situation. It wouldn’t take long.

  Hopefully.

  Even so, he’d waited to be with her for years. What was one more night? Or week?

  He dropped his shoulders and sighed. “Just that much longer,” he muttered under his breath, but when Kayla’s hand went to Vic’s chest and his arm wrapped around her, Gannon couldn’t stop himself.

  * * * *

  Kayla washed her hands and caught her image in the mirror. She scowled at her hair, smoothed it, and put on more lip gloss. Preparing to meet Vic, she schemed a little on how she would walk back to the table with him. She tossed around looping her arm through his or leaning on him and maybe even placing her hand on his chest. She caught herself laughing at the ridiculous ideas. Vic was hot, but the fact he and Missy were together gave her reservations, even though it was clear the couple was into more than each other. She took a deep breath and pushed on the door.

  Vic was gone.

  Gannon stood propped against the wall across from her.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, meeting his dark eyes and wishing she hadn’t.

  “I own the place.”

  “I don’t mean here…I mean here.” She gestured at the space with her hands.

  “I don’t trust that guy.”

  “So you sent him away?”

  “Maybe.” Gannon crossed his arms over his chest.

  “It wasn’t your decision to do that.” She took a few steps by him then stopped and turned around to face him. “Or my yard. I never hired you. Not officially. What if I didn’t want white or lavender flowers? We never discussed colors, and now I guess you expect me to pay you.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  “Then what do you want, Gannon?” Her arms at her sides, she balled her hands into fists.

  “I want you.” He spoke with a matter-of-fact tone, but the look on his face told her he was worried about her reaction to his statement.

  She chuckled without humor. “I’m not fucking stupid.”

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

  “No shit,” she said calmly. “But I didn’t really expect you to, not after what I’ve heard. And you know, that’s fine. I never wanted anything from you—”

  Before she could finish the sentence Gannon rushed at her, pressing his mouth to hers. His hands moved through her hair, gripping the back of her head.

  “Gannon,” she gasped, her fingers knotting in his shirt, tugging his body to hers, refusing to let go. Her mind became jumbled, erasing any doubt she’d previously had about him. In that instant, all she wanted was him. Fastened together, they moved past the restrooms and through a door at the end of the hall.

  He kicked it closed behind them. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said as his mouth found her neck, both of them frantically shedding clothes. “The desk,” he said moving her backward, hands cupping her breasts, mouth locked to hers. “I want inside you,” he groaned.

  Breathless, she nodded and turned around, leaning over the desk. He nudged her ankles with his foot, and she spread her legs, desperate to feel his girth stretch her opening. A shudder rippled under her skin at the sound of a tearing wrapper, knowing what she craved was mere seconds away. She moaned with pleasure as he grabbed her shoulders and thrust inside her. His strong hands moved to her hips and guided her body, placing it in the exact spot it needed to be with each stroke.

  He slammed into her, filling her completely. Her back arched and she cried out as pleasure jolted through her body. His cock pulsated, carrying her through the orgasm, and as he released she went limp against the desk.

  Gannon’s arm slid around her, lifting her from the desk. She turned to
face him, locking her hands behind his neck, meeting his eyes. His ragged breath filled her ears, and she found herself wishing she could hear that exact noise everyday. Despite the bliss she was feeling over every inch of her body, she allowed sanity to overcome the temporary glaze of concealment masking how pissed and hurt she was about not hearing from him after what seemed to be an obvious connection between them. She dropped her hands and went around him to claim her scattered clothes.

  There was too much feeling tied up between them. It was supposed to be sex. Sex. Once. Nothing more. Her frustration, she knew, was not at him. She was frustrated with herself at the emotion she somehow allowed herself with him. Kayla knew the only way to keep from getting more involved was to end it…completely.

  “I can’t do this,” she said after pulling up her pants and slipping her top on. Kayla shot her eyes to Gannon—no shirt, no shoes, and the jeans hanging low on his waist had yet to be buttoned. He seemed to freeze at her statement.

  “It shouldn’t be this way.”

  “You said that on Saturday. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kayla took a seat on the edge of a leather wing-back chair sitting across from the desk and put on her shoes. She didn’t want to leave him. She didn’t want to stop fucking him. She didn’t want to guess about the next time she would see him. Also, she didn’t want him in her head, not in the way he’d taken over her thoughts the last few days. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does though.” Gannon’s voice was sincere. He bent over and picked up his shirt off of the floor.

  “No, it doesn’t.” Kayla stood, walked to the door, and turned around to face him. She met his eyes, holding them hostage with hers. “This…” She motioned her hands to him and back to her. “I don’t need this.” And then she walked out of the room.

  She moved swiftly through the club with her head down. Even though she heard him call her name, she didn’t look up. Not seeing him was the only chance she had to erase everything about him from her mind.

  * * * *