Thomas & January

Page 2


He was tall, taller than most everyone in that room. He rested his forearms on the bar in front of him, a pair of callused hands, giving him away as a musician, nursing a pint on the flat wood before him. His hair reached just below his ears, which he tucked behind, and his goatee was a little scruffier than I usually liked but then again, I’d never been attracted to an actual man before. Mostly, my silly crushes belonged to some fellow teenager and usually ended as quickly as they started. He was frightening yet compelling all at the same time. I felt like a moth to a flame. My hands itched to run my fingers through his hair and along his jaw line. My eyes were transfixed on his mouth.

Snap.

“Come on, redneck.” I cringed. “Yeah, didn’t think I’d see that, did you? Well, I did. Come on.” But just as Casey reached him, the lead for Circumvent beat him to the punch. Casey retreated.

“What are you doing?” I asked him. “Go up there.”

“Nah, I can’t move in when Stephen’s there. I’ll have to wait.”

“Pansy.”

“Okay, redneck. Let’s go catch up with the guys. You can help me tune my keyboard.”

“Hardy, har, har,” I said absently, not able to take my eyes off the scout for Seven. I didn’t move though. No, I dumbly stood there, staring like an idiot. I watched his beautiful mouth and teeth as he made conversation with Stephen. I imagined my own lips meeting his...Casey surprised me by throwing me over his shoulders and started to walk away, briefly distracting the Scout and Stephen from Circumvent.

The blush I knew was staining my entire body by that point boiled to an unnatural heat, and I tried to smile at the both of them but found my stare burning solely through the blue eyes that belonged to the scout. He eyed me with a hard expression, my insides came unglued a bit in alarm but also a little bit in excitement. I was Dali’s melting clock personified at that moment. I felt like burning wax down Casey’s back.

Casey set me down backstage after an embarrassing walk through the bar, a walk where the scout’s eyes never left mine until we’d rounded a corner. I was humiliated.

“Gosh damn it, Casey!” I said, slapping his shoulder repeatedly. My hits felt like being pelted with cotton balls apparently because Casey was red with laughter. “You made a fool out of me!”

“Oh, calm down, January. He probably won’t even remember you. He lives in this scene, remember? Sees that kind of nonsense all the time.”

“Thanks, that’s very comforting.” I dropped my voice an octave. “No worries, January,” I mocked. “You’re not memorable enough to remember. You’re invisible.”

Casey’s face softened. “Oh, baby girl, I’m sorry,” he said, hugging me closely. “You’re right. I apologize.”

“It’s okay, idiot.”

Casey hugged me tighter. “You know you’re memorable, right?”

“Sure, sure,” I said, fighting back stupid tears.

“No,” he said, bringing me out from under his arms, looking at me with a pained expression. “I’m serious, January. You’re one of the most beautiful women I know, inside and out. If I wasn’t in love with Sunny, I’d be all over you like white on rice.”

“Shut up,” I said grinning and shaking my head. “Let’s go tune your keyboard.”

We walked to the band room The Belle Jar was readying for the show in and I helped the band learn a lot of the key changes we’d made that afternoon. When I left to join the crowd at the bottom of the stage, I couldn't remember a time they sounded better to me. They were going to knock the scout’s socks off the way he knocked me out of mine.

I positioned myself up front next to Sunny and we linked arms.

“Did you see him?” she asked.

“Yes! My God, Sunny. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone sexier than that scout.”

“Scout? I meant Casey, but now I’m no longer interested in whether you’ve seen Casey,” she said, her eyes roaming the crowd around us. She pulled me closely. “Who is this scout?”

“Seven Seas has a scout here to see Circumvent.”

“Oh yeah, Casey mentioned something like that to me.”

I stared at her in wonder. “I swear, woman! This is a huge deal!”

“I know, I know! I remember now.”

I rolled my eyes playfully at her. We talked for a few minutes before The Belle Jar began to set up their instruments at eleven, readying for the show.

“Be right back,” I said. “I’m going for a water. You want one?” I asked Sunny.

“Nah, I’m fine.”

“’Kay, save my spot, missus.”

I ran toward the bar and stood behind a few people waiting to be served. I kept throwing a head over my shoulder to spot the scout. I’m a freaking maniac! Why can’t I get this guy outta my head? I need to focus!

“What’s your poison?” The guy next to me asked.

I smiled at him. “I don’t drink. Still underage.” I held up my black x-ed hands in proof. “I’m in line for water. Boring, I know.”

This usually worked, but not with this guy.

“That’s cool. What are you doing out here tonight?”

“Oh, I’m here for The Belle Jar. I helped them clean up a few songs for tonight’s show. There’s a Seven scout in the audience for Circumvent tonight and I want them at their best. They’re brilliant.”

“Very cool. So, you’re a musician?” he asked as we inched closer to the bar. It was still ten feet away.

“Yeah, a pianist.” I turned my head away and fought a private grin.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, confused.

“Oh, nothing. I-well,” I said, facing him, “it’s just, I threw away a full scholarship to Berkeley for music to stay in town and help other musicians become successful. It just dawned on me how ironic that was. I find that hilarious.”

“That is...funny,” he said, not finding it funny in the least.

“I know it’s not funny, ha-ha, it’s funny, ridiculous.”

“Ah, I see.” He looked around a bit, decided he was bored enough to continue the conversation and asked, “So do you like Circumvent?”

“Yeah, I mean, I wouldn’t dare step on an Austin staple like Circumvent’s toes but, yeah, they’re okay.”

“No, really, tell me. I don’t know about them. First time seeing them, actually. Enlighten me.”

I bit my bottom lip, contemplating ragging on this band that was merely okay. “You tell anyone I thought this, I’d have to kill you, capiche?”

“Lips are sealed,” he said, leaning closer.

“Circumvent,” I began, “have an incredible base which is fairly impressive, but I believe that’s because of longevity mostly. Their talent is mediocre, their songs catchy but a bit too commercial, and their stage presence lacks. They’re just, ‘meh.’ They lack the talent to really push themselves over the edge, to put them in a position to gain a national following.” As I spoke, the guy was leaning closer and closer to me. He looked at me like he’d just noticed me. “What?” I asked.

“What are you doing for a living right now....?”

“Oh, sorry,” I said. “I’m January.”

“I’m Jason,” the guy said, holding out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jason,” I said, taking his hand before dropping it. “I’m, uh, currently unemployed,” I said, laughing.

“Cool, cool. Don’t go anywhere after the show, okay?”

“Uh, okay,” I said, eyeing him strangely.

“I’m not a freak. I promise,” he said. “Just hang around in the crowd after the show. I’ll find you.”

“Why?” I asked him as he stalked off outside, forgetting why he was standing in line.

“Trust me. It’ll be worth sticking around for.”

This equally intrigued me as well as frightened me but not enough that I wouldn’t find out what it was all about.

After I got my water, I headed back up front and squeezed my way through the crowd back to Sunny’s side, but she was nowhere to be seen so I stood lamely by myself. I didn’t care that much actually because I wanted a good “seat” for The Belle Jar. I wanted to be near the stage because there was a chance I needed to help cue Will on bass as he kept missing his new entrance on their third song.

Pampered Life shot out like a rocket from the beginning and blanketed the crowd around me, making everyone stunned by the power of it. It wasn’t long before everyone realized that The Belle Jar was a force to be reckoned with. I was so proud of them, riding high on their talent right along with them.

Seemingly out of nowhere, my breath was wrestled out of my chest when I saw him inch closer to the stage, a quiet towering figure, eyes intent on the stage. Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. Breathe, January. Breathe. He watched The Belle Jar with rapt attention. As I looked on him, my feet pushed themselves closer on their own accord. I was being pulled toward him by an unseen force. I found my feet planted right next to him but couldn’t bring myself to look up at him. He was too magnificent to behold, really. He smelled so delicious I could have eaten him with a spoon. He was all man, no boy in him at all. I peeked briefly at his hands and guessed he probably played the bass judging by the size and location of the calluses.

I wanted to take his hands in mine and study them for hours, rub my thumbs over the worn bits of skin and warm them with my touch. The attraction I felt for him was heady and nothing like I’d ever felt for anyone before. My eyes followed his heavily clad feet, up his worn jeans, and around his wallet chain. I froze, not wanting to take it further, not wanting to know what I’d do if I went any higher.

A minute passed before my gaze traveled over the little bit of wide leather belt exposed under his dark, weighty hoodie and jacket. My eyes stopped at his goatee and I felt his considerable stare on my own face. He’d discovered me, but I was too enthralled to be embarrassed then. I reached up and met my eyes with his. They pierced me like an arrow, those ice blue eyes.

I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t help myself it seems, and I watched my right hand travel up his arm slowly, glide over his shoulder, hesitate at his neck, but push further past the boundaries of sane as the back of my fingers trailed over the line of his jaw. I was pulled into the incredible magic this guy possessed over me. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft. His eyes closed at the feel of my hand, his jaw clenched slightly. I was distracted as his chest pumped with each deep intake of breath.

He surprised me when he turned more fully toward me and reached down, deliberately threading both his hands through my hair and bringing his face closely to mine. He narrowed his eyes, his brows furrowed slightly, conflict written in droves in the lines of his face. He took a deep breath in through his nose, languidly closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

Sluggishly, I brought his beautiful mouth to mine. He tasted of mint and a little bit of yeast from the beer I saw him drinking at the bar earlier. It was the sweetest, most delicious flavor I’d ever tasted and, God, I wanted more. There was no shame in my motions as I gripped the front of his hoodie in both my hands and delved my tongue deeper into his mouth. The kiss became feverish, dangerous, heated. He moved one of his hands from my hair to the back of my neck and traced his fingers down to the small of my back, pressing me deeper into his chest and hips, inciting a slight moan from me which only spurred him on more.

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