TOUCH ME XVII
1680 Words
Kellen didn’t seem to mind the taunt, though he didn’t hesitate in returning Owen’s kick.
“You're also a troublemaker,” Caitlyn said.
“One of my most endearing qualities,” Owen said.
“You get used to it,” Kellen said. “He doesn't know how to stay out of trouble. It's like he was born for the sole purpose of getting into trouble.”
“Kellen's just jealous because he's forgotten how to have fun.”
“That's a shame,” Caitlyn said. “I spent the last ten years of my life forgetting how to have fun. It's starting to come back to me, thanks to Owen here. And you have him around all the time.”
“I think I’m all funned out,” Kellen said.
“Speaking of fun… Wanna dance?” Owen asked her.
She gawked at him. “Dance? Here? But…” She rummaged through her brain for an excuse. “There's no music.”
Owen pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and started his playlist. The tiny speaker sounded awful, but they had music. Very hard and heavy music. Caitlyn frowned. “Is that one of your songs?”
“Yeah,” he said, “do you like it?”
“Not especially,” she shouted. Even though the music wasn't loud, she felt compelled to yell when confronted by the sounds blaring from the speaker.
“What kind of music do you listen to?” he asked.
She hesitated, looking from one musician to the next. She couldn’t lie about it. It would be much too easy to catch her at it. “I… uh… I don't listen to music.”
Based on the look Owen gave her, she must have contracted a severe case of purple Chicken Pox.
“You're kidding,” he said.
“No. I mostly listen to podcasts. And, well, I'm a fan of silence.”
She reached over and muted the song blasting from the speaker. Much better.
“Have you ever even been to a concert?”
“Oh, sure. Charles took me to the symphony once.” She’d even bought a new dress for the occasion and had worn it exactly once.
“Symphony? That doesn’t count. What about a rock concert?”
She bit her lip. She was about to lose her cool-card. “Never been.”
Owen gaped at her. Her pox must have started seeping blueberry jelly.
“Inconceivable,” Owen said. “That needs to change.”
“I agree,” Kellen said.
“Tomorrow night we play in Houston. You're going.”
She might be able to handle a Journey or .38 Special concert, but Sole Regret? If the ten seconds of music from Owen’s smartphone had made her ears bleed, what would an entire show do to her? Make her head explode?
“I couldn't possibly,” she said.
“Do you have other plans?”
“Yes, actually. I came to San Antonio to visit Jenna, and I've hardly spent any time with her yet.” Nice save.
“She can come with you.”
“She has to work.”
“So you can come with us—”
“On the tour bus?” Kellen interrupted.
“Yes, on the tour bus.”
“I don't think that's a good idea.”
Caitlyn wondered why. Considering the kind of clubs these guys frequented, she could only imagine the kind of debauchery that occurred on that tour bus.
“I didn't ask for your opinion,” Owen said to Kellen. Then he turned his attention back to Caitlyn. “You can come with us, and I'll send you back to San Antonio—in a limo if you want—to return to visit your friend.”
“I honestly don't think I'd like it.”
“You have to try it at least once. I can't be seen in public with a woman who's never been to a rock concert before.”
She chuckled. “Well I wouldn't want to ruin your reputation.”
“It was ruined years ago,” Kellen assured her.
“So is that a yes?” Owen pressed.
“I could save your reputation by asking you to take me someplace private,” she said. “Then you wouldn’t have to be seen with me in public.”
“Damn, woman. You’re killing me.”
“Smart girls,” Kellen said. “They pay attention to what you actually say and use it against you.”
She hadn’t meant to use anything Owen said against him. She just enjoyed their easy banter. “I’ll go,” she said decisively. Kellen’s wink made her realize that she’d just been outsmarted by a rock star. Damn it!
“Awesome,” Owen said. “I was trying to think up an excuse to get her to have s*x with me on the tour bus. This played out perfectly.” He glanced at Caitlyn when she gasped. “Did I just say that aloud?”
She laughed. “Unless I’m imagining things.”
“I think she's onto me,” he said to Kellen.
Kellen scratched his nose. “Since you tend to show all your cards, I'm not surprised.”
“I don't show all my cards. I still have an ace or two up my sleeve. Did you know dancing with a woman is a great method of seduction? If you move to their liking, they subconsciously think you’ll be compatible in bed.”
“You made that up,” Kellen said.
“Did I?” Owen took Caitlyn’s hand in his and caught her gaze. As she stared into his eyes, her heart thudded faster and faster. Her palm became increasingly damp. “Caitlyn, may I have this dance?”
Her first instinct was to accept, but then the rattling of dishes in the diner’s kitchen reminded her where she was.
“I'm not going to dance with you here,” Caitlyn said in a loud whisper.
“Why not? We have music. I'll even download your favorite song if you'd like.”
“This isn't the kind of place where you dance.”
Owen looked at Kellen. “Name three places where I would never dance.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
Kellen shrugged. “Can't think of one.”
“This is why he's my best friend. He always agrees with me.”
“I didn’t say it was normal.”
Owen blocked his screen from view as he downloaded something to his phone. The waitress set two bottles of water and a glass of ice tea on the table. She smiled first at Owen and then at Kellen before blushing and rushing back toward the kitchen.
“Do you think she knows who we are?” Kellen asked.
“Did she rip off her shirt and ask you to sign her t**s? No, she doesn't know. She just thinks you’re hot.”
Caitlyn reached for her tea, but before she could take a sip, Owen took her by the hand and pulled her from the booth.
“What are you doing?”
“Dancing.”
From his phone, “The Chicken Dance Song” began to play. When Owen began to flap his arms and scratch and peck, Caitlyn gaped at him.
“Dance with me, Caitlyn.”
She laughed—half mortified, half amused. “Oh my God, you are so embarrassing!”
“Dance, Caitlyn, or I'm following this with ‘Play That Funky Music White Boy.’ ”
“You don't want him to go there, Caitlyn,” Kellen said, opening his water and sipping it nonchalantly.
Every person in the restaurant was gawking, pointing, or laughing. And if Owen hadn't been so f*****g cute, they probably would have called the cops on him for disorderly conduct.
“Dance, Caitlyn.”
“I don't know how,” she lied. She'd danced to this song as a child. Back when she'd known how to have fun.
He whirled her around and stepped up behind her, one hand on her belly and his groin pressed against her ass. She wasn't sure how he made The Chicken Dance sexy, but by God, she was completely turned on the instant he began to move with her. Especially when he made her shake her hips and rub up against him just right.
Her face was flushed with something other than embarrassment as she let loose and started to move.
“I thought you didn't know this dance,” Owen said in her ear.
“I'm a fast learner.”
Two young women in a booth several tables away climbed to their feet and joined in. It appeared that they’d had a few too many as they stumbled around more than they danced. When one of the girls spotted Kellen in the booth, looking amused rather than annoyed, she grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him to his feet.
“Come and dance with us,” the tipsy girl said. “Come on. It’s fun!”
“No, thanks.” There was no room for argument in his tone, so with a scowl she released his wrist and settled for rubbing up against Owen from behind.
Owen laughed as he attempted to avoid hands not belonging to Caitlyn. “Three on one, no fair. Save me, Kellen.”
“There isn't enough tequila in Mexico to make me dance The Chicken Dance in a diner at one o’clock in the morning.”
Caitlyn turned to face Owen and wrapped both arms around his neck. She lifted an eyebrow at one of the eager young women behind him and the woman stepped back, tripping over her own feet. Her friend kept her from falling to the floor.
“Want to go party with us?” one of the girls asked Owen. “We love to party.”
“Caitlyn's all the party I can handle right now,” he said and kissed Caitlyn, as if to make his intentions clear.
- Writer
