A song for him

I had never been as eager to get out of Grand Rapids as I was this evening. After an hour of driving, I am outside a truck stop, filling up and ask a girl who seems to be working said stop what the closest town is.   “Benton Harbour.” She answers, without giving me a second glance and moves on to the diner. I check the pump metre and hang up the nozzle. I think I may have just maxed my credit card, but who cares? So long as I am far away from Dave, my cheating ex.   Just as the lovely lady of the night said, the next town is Benton Harbour. I remember having been there before, with my parents. They were based in Illinois, a state away and I was not going back there any time soon. Its still early enough to find a motel, so I leisurely drive up the main street, looking for something that won’t cost me too much. After about half an hour, I find something that doesn’t look too roach infested and pull in at the Sunset Apartments. I grab my guitar off the front seat and my bag, with the only clothes that could fit into it and whatever was reachable as I stormed out of Dave’s apartment.   The lady at the front desk is weary looking as she goes through the rules and hands me a key for a first floor room. I silently hope it doesn’t have any odd looking stains or a weird smell. When I reach it, I am pleasantly surprised. Its neat and even has a little bar fridge. Inside is a couple of bottles of mineral water. I finish both and then sit on the bed, flicking through channels.   After about an hour of trying to avoid the reason I am in a town I barely know, I pick up my jacket and decide to take a walk down the street and maybe even get something to eat. Since it’s a Saturday, it seems pretty busy and I find myself outside a place called The Livery.   As I am about to step inside, one of the smokers, a tall blond guy, flicks his cigarette on the ground as he turns to cut inside, in front of me.   “Hey!” I yell, but it falls on deaf ears as he just glances back at me and then carries on inside. “Asshole!” I mutter under my breath.  He turns to face me, “Really?”  I am caught off guard and don’t have a comeback. He smirks, “Cute and a filthy mouth. I like it.” The last thing on my mind is flirting, especially with a guy who just used me as an ashtray, but his attempt at a smile is wickedly hot. ‘No, Dillon!’ I think to myself.  “Roan! Come on, man. Smoke break’s up.”  A guy calls from the entrance.  He heads in, but not before shooting me one more smile from beneath a well-grown, neat blond beard. I don’t return it and wait until he disappears into the crowd before I head in. Grabbing a menu from the hostess’ counter, I browse through it. Its cheap enough and I ask the smiling woman behind the counter if I can place an order to go.   “Sure, just wait at the bar.” She points toward the long rustic looking bar across from her desk. I might as well have a drink while I wait. Lo and behold, the barman turns from the fridge and its blondie from outside. “Well, curious I see. Name’s Roan, twenty-eight and single. I also like long walks along the lake and listening to classic rock, but not the ballads.” He finishes his introduction off with that smirk and I want to wipe it off his face. Maybe even with my lips. No, with my fist.   “Could I just get a beer, please?”   “OK. Hard to get? I can deal.”   I look at him, his features almost angelic, but betrayed by that glint in his icy grey eyes. He’s big, probably well over six feet tall and has arms that look like they could swoop a woman up without much effort.   “What kind of beer?” he asks, almost annoyed.   “Uh, anything, but craft.”   “What’s wrong with craft?”   “Do I look like a twenty-something nerd that rides a bicycle everywhere?”   He shrugs, “Suit yourself, but the local craft is good here.”   “I’ll just have a Bud Light.”   He hands me the beer, but holds it back, “Your number for the beer.”   “What? No.” I shake my head in disgust at him.   “Why not?”   “You flicked your cigarette at me and I don’t date smokers.”   “I won’t smoke when I take you out.”   “Why not just quit?”   “Smoking?”   “No, asking me out. Immediately.” I should not have been in the mood for this back and forth banter with him, but it didn’t make feel so lonely.   “Roan! Customers!” a guy at the other end of the bar yells.   “Sorry, work awaits. Leave your number with Jill at the door.” He points to the hostess. His arrogance is strangely attractive. I shake my head as I sip the ice cold beer. The food seems to be taking forever, so I check my phone. Oh God. A message from Dave.   *Come back. She means nothing. She’s just a groupie.*   My mind involuntarily drifts to this afternoon. Dave, in a very compromising position with a girl in the alley next to the bar he played at. He was a damn good singer and we met at the same bar after I sang there a few months ago. I guess moving in with him so soon was a rookie mistake; one I regretted almost immediately. I was however grateful for the roof over my head. Things hadn’t been working out so great since I left college at Michigan State.   “Hey. Your order.” Jill, the hostess, hands me a bag with the meal I ordered and I somehow don’t think I’ll be able to eat it. She smiles apologetically at me, almost as if she senses my pain. “You could always eat here, you know?”   “I have to walk back to my place later. I’m not sure how safe it is.”   “Beats eating alone.” She smiles again. Her face is illuminated when she beams.   Just then the patrons begin cheering and I turn to see a young guy get up on stage, his guitar at his side. “Open mic night.” Jill says by way of explanation.   “Ah.” I’ve done so many open mic sessions, I know the nerves he is feeling. In fact, I still get it when I perform at a new place. He launches into his own rendition of With or Without you. I still don’t feel like staying and shrug at Jill, “Next time.” I was fooling myself when I thought I wouldn’t be able to eat. The burger is amazing and I manage almost the entire thing. I think of Roan the bartender and laugh, “No way!”  I somehow can’t get his smile out of my head. Picking up my guitar, I lean against the bed as I sit on the floor, facing the window. Plucking the strings, I hum the tune of Call your girlfriend and think of the irony. Bet Dave wasn’t thinking he needed to tell me we weren’t exclusive.   Funny, I imagined when you lived with someone, you were exclusive. Feeling completely overrun with visual reminders of Dave and his groupie, I clamber onto the bed and just close my eyes. The town looks pretty during the day and I find myself down at the lake, just sitting there with my morning coffee.   A familiar red head stops in front of me, her breathing jagged from her jog “Roan’s girl?”   “What?” “Its me, Jill. From The Livery.” Ah, the hostess. She’s too nice to be stand-offish with.  “Hi, name’s Dillon.” “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” “I don’t know Roan, just so you know.” I manage a smile at her. “I know. He’s a flirt. He’s really sweet though.” “He could’ve fooled me.” She sits next to me, “You don’t mind, do you?” I do, but I shake my head, “No.”  “You’re obviously new here. Holiday?” “Uh, no.” “You’re clearly not visiting anyone. You’re wearing the same clothes in seventy degree weather, so I am assuming you left somewhere in a hurry.” I am taken aback by her brazenness, but impressed by her attention to detail.  “Not that its anyone’s business; I needed a break.”  “Hmm. Cheating ex? Steal something?” she looks at me thoughtfully, “You didn’t rob a bank or something did you?”  “Oh my God. No!” I can’t help, but laugh, “The first one.”   “Oh. That’s not cool.”   “No, it isn’t.”   “So that’s why you never left your number for Roan.” She has an a-ha moment. I nod, “that and the fact that he flicked his cigarette at me.”   “Not intentionally though, right?”   “I guess not, but it was still a d**k thing to do.”   She looks at me pensively, “I’m working later. Come around for dinner at the bar? I finish at six. We could have drinks after.”   I eye her skeptically, “He won’t be there, will he?”   “No, I don’t think so.”   She smiles at me, extending her hand, “Great to meet you, Dillon. I’ll see you later?”   “Yeah, sure.” I shake her offered hand and she’s off, her long red hair swinging behind her as she trots off. I wonder why she isn’t hooked up with the hottie from the bar. By five, I am changed into my black camisole and my jeans. I tug on my leather jacket and head down the street to the bar. I quickly smack on some Chapstick before going in. I surprise myself when I feel disappointed that he isn’t standing outside. Then again, when I walk in and he isn’t at the bar. Jill is in front of me within seconds, “Hey! You made it. Come on, I got you a table in front. We can listen to the band later.”   I only order some fries and a beer, not wanting to overspend. Scrolling through my phone, I hope to find some sort of entertainment, but am distracted by the couple next to me, who can’t stop playing tonsil hockey. ‘Eurgh!’ is all I can think. Funny how when I was doing it with Dave, I didn’t give a s**t about what anyone thought. I glance at them and they’re still at it. Am I the only one who thinks this is inappropriate?   “I bet you a beer that if you as much as winked your eye at him, he’d be done with her.” I turn to see Roan standing in front of me. His deep, raspy voice is like velvet. I like it. Wait, no, I don’t. “What? Didn’t think you’d see me tonight? Or were you hoping you would?” he has a smart mouth. Its annoying, but sexy.   “It really doesn’t make a difference.”   “Yeah, I suppose, but I like your face. Your ass isn’t too bad, either.”   I roll my eyes at him, “Do you always just say whatever you’re thinking?”   “Its honest. You don’t like honesty?”   In spite of recent events with my now cheating ex, I found Roan’s honesty a bit tough. “Its not as refreshing as you think.”   “So that’s why your cheeks are pink or did you get dolled up for me?”   I feel the heat creep up my neck and it feels as if I am betraying my commons sense. Why does he have to be so hot? Before I can answer him, Jill sits down at the table with a pitcher of beer and draught glasses. “Oh, hey Roan. You working tonight?”   His eyes don’t leave mine, “Yeah, Mike called me in. Says he needed the extra hands just for the dinner rush.”   “Sure he did.” She laughs as she pours us each a glass.   “Shouldn’t you be pouring shots or something for the sorority girls over there?” I tease, my eyes following the loud group of girls that are clearly mooning over him.   He doesn’t turn to look, “They’ve got Mike to keep ‘em company. Let me know when you leave. I’ll walk you home.”   I don’t answer and take a sip of beer instead. Its really good.   “You like that?” he asks.   “It beats the stuff you offered me last night.”   “It is the stuff I offered you last night.” He smirks at me and gets up to leave, extra sure of himself right about then.   Jill laughs, “He’s really good at riling you up and I think you like it.”   “No!” I shake my head, “He’s so persistent.”   “He’s really a sweet guy once you get to know him.”   “So why don’t you date him?” I ask, teasing, but also curious. They’re both very attractive and seem to get along.   “What? Me and Roan? Nah. We tried once, in high school, but there was no spark. Know what I mean?”   No spark? Bet he could set bed sheets alight. Oh my God. There I go again. This guy was hot, but it was the wrong time. Jill keeps me regaled with stories of how she ended up working for Mike, one of their childhood friends, after she got divorced after a very short marriage.   “Cheater?” I ask.   “Yeah and I knew it from day one. That was the part that hurt the most.”   We clink glasses, “Here’s to no more cheaters.”   “From your lips to God’s ears, hun!” she winks at me.   We talk more about our cheating exes and about small town life in Benton Harbour. Turns out Roan, Mike and Jill all grew up there. Roan and Mike were older than her, but she’s always been their 'Tag-along' as they fondly refer to her. When she asks me about where I’m from, I think back to growing up in Illinois. Wells was small, but not as small as this. Life was easier, but not the whirlwind rollercoaster it was in Michigan. I tell her about my time at Michigan State, studying music and trying to make a career of it in Grand Rapids after college.   “Why not go to New York?” she asks.   “Never got around to earning enough to get there. It is on the cards though.”   “How long are you staying here?” “I should probably head back in the next couple of days to get my things and then maybe head to Illinois until I can afford to go to New York.” I realise I won’t have a place to live when I go back to Grand Rapids and my stomach turns.   I should message Dave to say when I’ll be collecting my things so we don’t have to see one another. I couldn’t deal with a confrontation. “Hey, you there?” Jill waves a hand in front of my face. I quickly recover.   “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here, but maybe I should get going.”   “Aww. Don’t skip town without saying goodbye. You’re good people, Dillon Tate.”   I leave The Livery without being noticed and head down the main street, my thoughts drifting between Grand Rapids and Mom and Dad in Wells. So, when someone grabs me by the shoulder, I nearly jump out of my skin! “What the hell?” Roan steps back as I reach around to strike him.   “God! Do you make it a habit of creeping up on women in the dark?”   He laughs and quickly falls in step alongside me as I carry on walking, “Only the pretty ones.”  “Save it.”   “Told you to let me know when you leave.” “Honestly, what could happen here?”   “Its modern day America. Not safe anywhere.” “What’s your game, Roan?”   “No game. You’re interesting.”   “You don’t know me. How could you possibly think I was interesting?”   “That’s what’s interesting. I don’t get why you won’t give me the time of day.” “Well, I’m talking to you now.”   He stops suddenly and grabs me by the arm, “Wait a minute. Why don’t we stop for coffee here and actually try and form some sort of a rapport while sitting down?” he nods towards a little café across the street. I sigh, but I wouldn’t mind a good cup of coffee, so I nod my head, “Sure.”   “The next date will be better. Promise.”   “Its not a date.”   “It’s a date.”   I don’t argue any further. He orders two coffees and we sit outside at a small table. “So, what do you want to know?” He doesn’t say anything and grins at me.   “I don’t believe it. You actually don’t have anything to say.”   “Now hold on. I was going to ask you something.”   “What? Out with it then.”   “OK. What are you running from?”   “What? I’m not running from anything. I just wanted a little getaway.”   He shakes his head, “Where’s home?”   “Grand Rapids.”   “OK. When do you leave for Grand Rapids?”   “Next couple of days.”   “Uh-huh.”   “Why?”   “Keep tomorrow open.”   I study his face. His eyes have that glint of mischief in them and when he smiles, they narrow and I can’t see the blue and sometimes almost green eyes. I feel so comfortable with him and love the back and forth, but I know I should steer clear. I was done with guys I met in bars.   “Look, I don’t think I’d be a great date.”   “Who says it’s a date?” I feel slightly embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I just don’t know you well enough.”   “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” This guys is resilient. “Look, Dillon. I won’t lie to you, I’m not looking for a girlfriend and I can tell you aren’t looking for anything serious either, but I am an honest guy and I don’t have anything to hide.”   “While I am sure your intentions are honest; I have just come out of something that’s been humiliating to say the least.”   “Don’t be mad at Jill, but she warned me to back off, but didn’t divulge. Just said I shouldn’t do anything to upset you.”   I smile at Jill’s thoughtfulness. Under different circumstances, she would have made a good friend. I think of my friends in Grand Rapids. Lily and Skye. I can almost hear them egging me on to go out with blondie.   “OK.” He perks up, “What?”   “OK, I’ll keep tomorrow open.”   He touches my hand and it takes me by surprise. When he registers this, he quickly removes it. “Great! Now come on, let me take you home.”   Roan’s arranged to meet me outside Sunset Apartments at noon. When he saw where I was staying, he pulled a face that made me groan inwardly. I try to keep an open mind, but I feel so nervous. I tousle my damp hair and apply some gloss. I’ve washed my white t-shirt and slip on my shorts.   “OK. We’re just hanging out. Nothing more. Right?” I look at myself in the mirror.   I picture Roan, much against my own warning. His light blond hair is long, almost jaw length and he has almost always had it tucked behind his ear. His look is reminiscent of the nineties grunge era and strangely, it works for him. That mouth, its sculptured and his cupid’s bow is perfect. I briefly imagine kissing it. He probably kisses hard.   I bite my lip, my eyes close and I drift into my thoughts. His cheeks hollow when he kisses, as if sucking me in and it only perfects what has to be described as an angelic face. Oh, but beyond that face; I wonder what lies in that curious mind.   I’m rattled out of my little daydream by rapping on the door. I look at my watch, “s**t!” its fifteen after noon. Opening the door, I’m met by a six pack of, wait, “Is that craft beer?”   “Only the best the town has to offer.” his arrogance is strangely appealing.   I grab my bag off the dresser next to the door and move outside, forcing him to step back. Weirdly, I feel embarrassed about my state of living suddenly. My parents, specifically, my mother would be appalled at my current situation and my Dad, would probably blame my ex.   “Ready?” he asks, grinning.   “No flowers?” “I figured this has more meaning between the two of us than something that you could only look at.” He’s good.   “So, what are your plans?”   “You’re not really into the whole dating thing are you?” I don’t want to whine and tell him how I’m not really used to being treated like a date, so I shrug. “Plans?”   “Uh, well, I was thinking I’d like to show you my place.”  I groan inwardly and really can’t blame anyone, but myself, “Look-“  “Whoah!”  “Roan, I’m sure you have the whole thing planned out and heck, I might have even fallen for it, but not this time and seriously, I won’t even be mad, but spare me the play and just be honest!”   He puts the beers down and holds his hands up, “Dillon! Stop!”   I’m taken aback by the tone he uses. Its firm, but caressing at the same time. “I want to show you where I work. Well, my real job.”   I feel like an i***t and try to joke, “You’re not a pimp are you?”   He doesn’t laugh, “Someone must have done a real number on you.”   I don’t say anything and he places his hands on my shoulders, “You’re safe with me. Relax. Besides, I told Jill where we’d be in case she doesn’t hear from me.”   I laugh, genuinely and loud, “You’re a riot.”   He relaxes and so do I, “Yeah. I like to think so. Come on, let’s get moving.”   When he takes my hand, it doesn’t feel awkward at all and the sparks that travel from my fingertips, all through my body are amazing. I like this feeling. A lot.