K. Linde - Take Me for Granted

I had asked him one simple question, and he didn’t have to be such an ass about it.

“As long as I have my guitar, I’m fucking solid.” He mirrored me and crossed his arms. “The band isn’t just a band. Those guys are my brothers. It would be like getting rid of family, and I’m not fucking doing that.”

That was probably the nicest thing I’d ever heard come out of Grant’s mouth, and we’d managed to have a semblance of a conversation without him making some dick sexual reference.

“Then, it sounds like you made the right choice. Why are you so pissed off about it?”

He shrugged and turned.

I stared at his profile. His jaw was strong and defined with stubble growing in. His lips were full, and his nose was angular. I could make out his high cheekbones and the intensity of his gaze.

“Grant?” I prompted.

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Are you just going to stand there all night and try to figure it out?”

“I’d rather get back to my nine-tenths, princess,” he said, walking back over to me and sitting down.

I stood hastily. “I don’t think so, Prince Charming.”

Grant laughed at the nickname and leaned back casually on the couch. “Charming, huh?”

“Or maybe you’re actually a frog.”

“Does that mean I get to kiss you again?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You know, I think what irritates me is that I can’t release my frustration. Are you sure you can’t help with that?”

I rolled my eyes. Nice try. “Not a chance. You should probably go actually, so I can go to sleep.”

“Want some company?” He stood and his fingertips circled my waist, drawing me toward him.

How did he do that so easily?

“Um…no company.”

Seeing that I wasn’t going to change my mind, he grumbled something under his breath. “All right.”

He trudged across the room, and I followed him.

He reached for the door. “So, Ari, can I see you again?”

I smiled despite myself. He’d used my name. Even if it was a shortened version of it, it was my name. Improvement.

“Do I have much of a choice?” I asked, knowing that it wasn’t likely.

“No, not really.”

“Relentless, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” he said, slipping my hand into his and pulling me into him.

I didn’t even fight him this time.

My arm wound around his neck as he dipped his head and placed a kiss firmly on my lips. It wasn’t the fiery passion and deliriousness of the last one, but this one was a promise. He was telling me that I would be seeing more of him whether I wanted to or not, and my answering kiss betrayed the fact that I wanted to.

It was official. Aribel fucked me up. The asshole at the record label be damned, Ari was the one driving me mad. I’d kissed a lot of girls, and not a single one of them had I thought about longer than a fleeting moment. I’d say I didn’t fuck girls twice, but I couldn’t remember them long enough to know if that were true.

So, why had I driven all the way from the city to see Aribel without the promise of some ass? In fact, I’d been certain she would turn me down. But something about her had made me want to try for it anyway. Maybe it had been the way she put up a fight, her reactions to me kissing and touching her, or her fucking bullshit banter.

And who is the pussy that had taken over my body when I opened up and told her about the band? Any other girl, I would have just fucked until I forgot about it, but no, not Ari. She wouldn’t let me forget about it. She wouldn’t even let me keep kissing her.

I’d thought that maybe since I told someone about what had happened with the label, it would be easier to tell my boys about what had gone down when I stayed behind. But it wasn’t.

I walked into the garage for our regularly scheduled band rehearsal the next afternoon, and all the guys were sitting around on couches, not touching their instruments. Yeah, I’d seen this coming.

“Rehearsal is canceled. We’re going to get beers,” McAvoy told me with a nod.

“All right,” I said. “Want me to drive?”

Miller shrugged as he walked past me and out of the garage. So, he’s pissed. Well, aren’t we all? Last night hadn’t gone down how any of us anticipated.

“That means, yes, dick,” Vin said, punching me on the arm, as he followed Miller out.

“Are they going to hate on me all night?” I asked McAvoy.

“It’ll blow over, dude,” McAvoy said, holding a joint between his fingers. “Want some before we go?”

He handed off the joint to me, and I took it graciously. I fucking need this. After taking a few long drags, I passed it back to McAvoy, and we walked out to my truck.

I headed to a hole-in-the-wall Mexican restaurant that we frequented in town and pulled my truck into the run-down parking lot. They had good food and cheap beer, which was all that mattered. We took our normal seats in the back of the restaurant and ordered a few pitchers.

“So, what happened last night?” Miller asked, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, you ran out of the fucking place like some motherfucker was chasing you with a gun,” Vin said.

I shrugged. “The label offered me a solo gig.”

The guys nodded like they had been expecting that. They still looked pissed, and I couldn’t blame them.

“I told him to fuck off and that I couldn’t be in this business without my bros.”

“I told you,” Vin said, smacking Miller upside the head.

“We all thought that, Vin,” McAvoy said. “It was just a shitty night for everyone, and then you just disappeared.”

“Yeah. Where did you go?” Miller asked.

“You know he went to get himself some ass,” Vin piped up.

“Of course I did.” I didn’t want my boys to think I was losing my game.

“No one knows Grant here like I do,” Vin said. “Man needed some pussy. Nothing wrong with that.”

Miller and McAvoy shook their heads at Vin just as the pitchers arrived.

“Anyway,” Miller said, already shrugging off the weight of my disappearance, “what do you guys want to do from here? We don’t have a show for another two weeks. I haven’t heard from another label. I was thinking we could take a breather. Just take some time off and regroup. In your case, Grant, fuck yourself out of disappointment.”

Sounded about par for the course.

Aribel’s dark blue eyes flashed before my eyes, and a small smile snuck onto my face. She was the only thing I wanted to be fucking over the next week. A streak of blonde hair, her groans as I’d touched her tits, her lips making my whole body hard as a rock crossed my mind. I shook my head and tried to get her out of my thoughts. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“I want to fuck myself out of disappointment,” Vin said, “with that fucking ginger, Cheyenne. I’m ready to find out if the carpet matches the drapes.”

“So, how long are we talking?” I asked, ignoring Vin’s vulgar comment.

“A week?” Miller offered.

A week sounded good. I needed to stop obsessing about Aribel, so maybe the next time I saw her, I wouldn’t try to attack her.

“Cool. I think I’m going to call Sydney then and go visit her,” I said.

Vin whistled. “Bring her back with you. I’ve never seen a nicer ass. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

I slammed him back into the booth and cut off his windpipe. “Pipe the fuck down, and remember who you’re talking about.”

Vin glared and pushed me off of him. “All right, bro! Fuck off! I’ll stick with my redhead.”

“Yeah, you fucking will.”

I’d made out with Grant McDermott in my own house—willingly. Who the hell am I?

Aribel Madison Graham did not get caught up in guys, let alone in a guy like Grant McDermott.

And now, I’m referring to myself in the third person. I was seriously going off the deep end. I was way too smart for all of this.

The girls had stayed in town with Cheyenne’s family and didn’t get back until late Sunday night, when I had already been in bed. I’d made sure I was up and out of the house the next morning before anyone could talk to me. I’d known that Cheyenne had spoken to Grant about coming here, and I wasn’t looking forward to her harassing me about what had happened.

When I couldn’t avoid my roommates any longer, I finally returned home. Prepared for the worst, I tried to act like nothing was different, but Cheyenne had decided to stake out the apartment. I passed by her on my way to my bedroom, and she jumped over the couch to block my path.

“Where have you been all day?”

“At school,” I responded, trying to walk around her.

“Not with Grant?”

“Grant who?”

“Don’t play coy with me! I need details! Grant asked me for our address, so he could come see you Saturday night. What happened?”

“You gave some random guy the address to our apartment?” I shook my head, just thinking of the absurdity of it all. “What if he came here to kill me?”

“So, he was here?” she squeaked.

Gabi and Shelby sheepishly walked out of their rooms. Shelby waved at me and bit her bottom lip as if it would keep her from demanding details just like Cheyenne. Gabi looked as far off in her own world as ever.

“Yes. He was here. He came, he saw, he conquered. Can we move on now?”

I tried to walk around her again, but she grabbed my arms and started jumping up and down.