Johnny

Two years later

“Piña colada, please.” I looked up just as the woman speaking leaned over the bar, her boobs hanging out of her top so far I almost saw nipple. I bit my cheek so I wouldn’t roll my eyes and tell her off. I wasn’t in the mood for this today. We were in a bar in fucking Denver, Colorado, not the Caribbean. A piña colada? And she was the type, with her fake blonde hair and even faker rack that would let me pull her into the back room and do her because she was in a ‘bad boy phase.’ She had no idea just how ‘bad’ this boy was, and I had no time for fake girls like her.

I thought back to last night’s conquest—what had her name been? Oh yeah, Zoey—and my dick twitched. Whatever her real name had been (I wasn’t dumb, she’d hesitated quite a bit before telling me ‘Zoey’), she’d sucked me until I’d blown and then rode me until I saw stars. Best part was, she’d left right after, and I’d passed out on my own. The way I wanted it. It was better for everyone, and the only way I allowed anyone in at all.

I turned, getting out the goddamn blender to make her a piña colada. She better at least give me a good tip. I had to pay rent this week. Thinking about rent reminded me of my little sister Julia, and a pang of loneliness shot through me. She’d moved to Florida with her new husband Carter a few months ago, and now she had my niece, Calia. She was ten years younger than me but my best friend, my only friend, in the world. I missed her so much it hurt. She and Carter both kept telling me to move there and live with them, but I was sick of always relying on her. She had a family to worry about now and didn’t need her almost middle aged fuck up of a brother to weigh her down.

And then there were my parents John, my namesake, and Aileen Gibbons, the people that had cut me off at the age of eighteen and now wanted to be part of my life again. I just couldn’t do it. After the life I’d had to endure since they kicked me out of the house, I wasn’t sure if I would ever want a relationship with them. The only redeeming thing either of them had done for me was get me the hell out of prison, but I still mostly credited my sister for that.

I shuddered, forcing the thoughts of the two years I spent locked up back inside the box where they belonged. Even though I’d been out for two years, I couldn’t quite shake the memories of my time there.

The beginning chords of tonight’s band made me start tapping my toe and nodding my head, the familiar urge to go up and join them bubbling to the surface. That was another part of myself I wouldn’t bring back. It was dead and gone. The closest I’d get to playing again would be writing songs and listening to good bands.

I turned back to Spilling Tits, pasting on my flirtatious smile. The only part of this job I enjoyed was the live music and finding new talent. I’d been shoved into that role quickly after getting hired, and it was as fulfilling as my life could get these days. This was the only place that didn’t give a shit that I was an ex-con with a record.

ST winked at me and wrapped her ruby red lips around the straw, making a big production of sucking it, her eyes locked on mine for a reaction. I smirked, knowing I couldn’t care less about what she was offering, but hell, a tip was a tip.

Her eyes raked up and down my body while she worked her tongue around the straw. I crossed my arms, making her eyes widen as my muscles flexed. God, this was just too easy.

“Do you want a tab, sweet thing, or to cash out now?” I leaned just a little closer to her and watched her pupils dilate and her nose flare with desire.

She bent forward, and this time I did see nipple. “That depends,” she said. “When are you off?”

I chuckled. “Not for a long time. I’m closing the place tonight.”

She furrowed her brow. “I’ll start a tab and hope I’m still around when you get off. I’d love to show you a good time.”

She slid her credit card across the bar and when I went to grab it, she took it back, putting it down her cleavage. “Come and get it, hottie. You know you want me.”

Fuck me. I was used to forward women, but this one took the cake. Even if seeing her tits on display had me interested in the southern region, I had no desire to give her what she wanted. I could tell she was high maintenance. She wouldn’t be satisfied with one roll in the sheets and being dismissed. She’d want something from me, and that was a no. Hell fucking no.

I slid my fingers into her cleavage and retrieved the credit card, giving her the ‘smoldering’ look that I knew from experience worked in dampening panties.

“Oh, you’re so baaaad,” she said, putting her hand over her breasts where mine had just been. “What’s your name, honey? I’m gonna be screaming it in a few hours. I’m Lila.”

I turned and slid the card into the computer, taking my time since I knew she was checking out my ass. This was a fun game I liked to play, and it got me good tips. I wasn’t serious and never took a girl home from the bar. Ever. Now the band? That was a totally different story.

I slid the card back across the counter at her and leaned over so she could hear me over the now pounding music. I liked their sound, and I wanted her to go away so I could listen. “I’m Johnny. But I don’t think you want me, sweetheart.”

Her big eyes blinked up at me. “Why’s that? You’re hot as hell, and I’m willing, so what’s the issue?”

“The ‘issue’ is—” I started.

“That he swings the other way,” Kirk, a fellow bartender, interrupted. Lila’s eyes got wide, and her mouth made a little O as she registered his words. Kirk put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him to prove his point. The funniest part about it all was Kirk was just as big and muscular as me and had any number of ladies coming here to see him daily. Neither one of us batted for the other team. Not that there was anything wrong with that. I’d just rather not see any other dick but my own.

She slid off the barstool. “What a waste,” she said before stomping off to the dance floor, flinging her hair behind her. She sure as shit took that piña colada with her, though. I looked down at the receipt she’d scrawled on. And she didn’t leave a fucking red cent for a tip. Figured.

I barely contained my laughter until she walked away. I shoved Kirk off of me and bent over, holding my stomach. “That was a new one,” I choked out, “but thanks for saving me, man.”

Kirk shrugged. “Well, that skank could give you a disease just standing across from you. She’s constantly trying to take someone home. I’m surprised it took her this long to attach herself to you. Speaking of, how was your night last night?” He lifted his eyebrows in question.

“My night?”

Kirk looked offended. “Don’t play stupid. You totally got laid last night.”

“What?” As cool as Kirk was, I sure as shit didn’t want to talk to him like a goddamn chick.

“She was the guitar player from the band we had here last night, right? I’m not stupid. I saw you eye-fucking her across the room all night long. I thought you had a no-bar hookup rule?”

“I do,” I said, wiping the counter in front of me. “But she wasn’t from the bar, she was from the band. That’s not the same. Plus, she was hot as hell and was moving on, so I knew she didn’t want a commitment.” I wouldn’t tell him that her being in the band was exactly what had attracted me to her. The rest had just been a bonus. “Last night was the only night she was here. It was perfect. And, did you just say eye-fucking?”

“Yeah, I did because that’s what you were doing. So?” Kirk wiggled his eyebrows at me. “She was stacked and hot, so how was she?”

I lifted an eyebrow at him. “I don’t fuck and tell. I’m not your fucking girlfriend. If you want a story about pussy, go watch some porn. You need to get laid, bro.”