On the Rocks (Kingston Brothers Book 1) Read online

  I spotted Royce well before he knew who I was. They’re basically famous in this town, and I’m just another face in the crowd, so Royce wasn’t aware I existed until I started coming to this bar.

  “Ladies. You doin’ all right over here?” Royce asks as he makes a drink for someone else.

  “Yep,” I answer, taking a sip of my drink.

  “No,” Midge states, sounding disappointed.

  “What’s wrong? Drink not good?” he asks, his eyebrows pulling together.

  Midge finishes the rest of the drink. “No, the drink is perfect, but where are your brothers?”

  Royce laughs and briefly glances at his watch. My eyes trail the veins in his muscled forearm down to the leather band wrapped around his wrist. When my eyes meet his, I notice he’s observing me with the tiniest grin on his face.

  “Should be here soon. Cillian’s probably making Elijah wait on him. He’s working on something new, and you can’t interrupt an artist’s creative process,” he says, shaking his head.

  “Another painting?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “He isn’t saying much about it.”

  Royce steps to the side and passes the drink to a customer, then takes his money and deposits it into the register.

  “What else can ya make me?” Midge asks, pushing her glass toward him.

  “Strong? Fruity? Whatcha in the mood for?”

  “Sex,” Midge mutters.

  “What’s that?” Royce questions, leaning in.

  Midge laughs. “Nothing. Surprise me.”

  “So, London baby, what do you think about the band?” he asks me, jerking his head toward the stage. I ignore the flip my stomach does at the term of endearment. Stupid boys.

  “They’re pretty good,” I answer with a nod. “A mix between Radiohead and Pearl Jam—leaning more towards Radiohead. A little too slow-paced, but maybe they’ll pick it up.”

  He smiles at me before handing Midge her drink.

  “Why don’t you ask me how I feel about the band?” she questions with a pout.

  “London’s a music snob, and you still listen to Ace of Base.”

  “Hey!” she squeals. “You know you enjoyed my karaoke version of All That She Wants.” She takes a sip of her new drink, puckering her lips afterwards. “Ooh. What is this?”

  “Sex on the beach,” Royce says, giving her a wink. He heard her after all.

  “Ah, I wish.”

  His head comes up and his gaze travels over our heads, raising his arms in the air. “Hey! You made it!” he yells over the music.

  Midge and I swivel around in our stools to find two of the Kingston brothers walking our way.

  Elijah and Cillian. Cillian, the artist, has tousled brown hair, like he’s been running his hands through it for the last two hours. Long on the top, shorter on the sides, and perfectly imperfect. The hair on his face is a little unkempt, like he hasn’t bothered to trim it in the last few days, but he makes it work. Tortured artist and all that. Tattoos cover his arms and neck, and probably more places under his clothes.

  Elijah, the oldest of the Kingston brothers, tends to wear a chronic serious expression, his face touched with arrogance, but he’s never anything but nice. His hair is a light brown, and his eyes are nearly as striking as Royce’s. His facial hair is minimal, and when he looks at you it’s like he’s staring straight into your soul and unlocking your every secret.

  I take a peek at Royce, who’s pouring his brothers their favorite drinks. Royce is the second oldest, but eight years separate him from Elijah. His facial hair is just a hint over a five o’clock shadow, and his brown hair always looks so soft when he pushes his fingers through it to keep it away from his forehead. One of the first things I noticed about him were his eyes. They’re a striking light green with minimal spots of brown near the pupils and streaks of blue melting through the iris. In some lights, they’re almost teal.

  “Hey, Cillian. Hey, Elijah,” Midge purrs.

  “Margaret,” Elijah drawls. “How’ve you been?”

  “Oh, you know, the usual. Fabulous and astonishing.”

  Elijah and Royce chuckle at her.

  “You workin’ on something new, Cillian?” I ask him as he plops down next to me.

  “What gave it away? My messy appearance or my brother’s big mouth?”

  I laugh, noticing he has paint on some of his fingers, and tiny dots of blue paint splatter on his jeans. “Both.”

  “I’m workin’ on something. Not sure if it’s going to be a masterpiece or an absolute piece of shit.”

  “Nice,” I reply with a laugh.

  I’m not as familiar with the other Kingston brothers as I am with Royce, and I barely know him, but they pop in quite a bit, so we’re on an acquaintance level at least.

  “How’s the old lady, Cill?” Midge asks.

  “She’s fine. At work, I think.”

  “You think?” she questions, staring at him even though he’s sketching something in his book.

  “Yeah, I haven’t talked to her today. I’ll check in with her later.”

  Midge shakes her head. “She’s second to art.”

  Cillian doesn’t hear her, or chooses not to respond to her comment. Cillian and Midge went to school together, so they know each other pretty well, though they don’t hang out or anything.

  Midge is a few years older than me, but we met at work and hit it off right away. We both work at the bank—she as a loan officer and me as a teller working toward becoming a loan officer.

  Royce gives Elijah and Cillian their drinks, and then the two men disappear to their usual table.

  “I could spread him on a cracker and eat him up,” Midge says, unabashedly staring at them as they walk away.

  “Which one?” I question, taking a quick glance myself.

  “Either. Both, but since Cill is taken, I’ll take Elijah. Jesus H. Isn’t he hot?”

  I nod taking a sip. “Kind of intimidating.”

  “I know. I love it.”

  I roll my eyes and face the bar. Royce stands several feet away, making drinks with a flourish. He tosses the bottle up, and my eyes are glued on it as it twirls through the air before he catches it in his other hand. He pours the liquid into three separate tins, drops some ice in each one, then stacks the tins together with a strainer on the top. Royce begins tilting the tins, and the liquid pours out of each one, effectively filling each shot glass at the same time. The customers ooh and ahh, and Royce smiles accepting the tip they give him.

  Suddenly, he turns my way and his eyes meet mine. For just the briefest second, everything around us ceases to exist. The music fades away, the people disappear, and it’s just us as we observe each other curiously.

  Even though he busted me staring at him, it takes me several seconds before I look away. There’s no point in pretending I was looking elsewhere, so I just give him a small smile before facing Midge.

  She’s got her phone in one hand, her thumb moving across the screen, and her drink in the other hand. “Eye-fucking the bartender again, I see,” she says nonchalantly, taking a sip without meeting my gaze.

  I clear my throat. “No.”

  “I’m not sure why you’re trying to deny it. I’d think it was weird if you weren’t watching him. People come here for three things.” She puts her phone down and lifts one finger. “To drink.” Her middle finger joins her pointer. “To check out the band.” And then she points blindly behind her, where she thinks Royce is. “And to check out the sexy fucking bartender. So don’t think you have to lie to me. I look. You look. She’s looking,” she says, pointing at a girl a couple seats away.

  “Midge.”

  “I’m just saying,” she finishes, spinning back toward the bar and coming face to face with the sexy bartender himself.

  He grins. “Hey.”

  Her cheeks pink just a little. “Oh. Hey.”

  I watched him walk over right as she started to point behind her. The band was taking a break, so it wasn’t as loud, a
nd I’m sure he caught her whole spiel.

  “You guys doin’ okay over here?”

  She buries her face in her phone and nods, murmuring a quick “Yeah, sure.”

  I bite my lip, trying to keep myself from laughing. “We’re fine. Thanks, Royce,” I tell him. “Can I pay my tab now? I have to go soon.”

  “Sure.”

  When Royce walks toward the register, Midge hits me in the arm. “Thanks for the warning!”

  “You were so passionate about it. He only overheard the last half.”

  “Oh,” she quips, raising her brows. “That makes it better.”

  “You’ll be fine. You leaving or staying?”

  She looks at the time. “Ugh. It’s only ten. On a Saturday. Why are you leaving so early?”

  “Hunter said he wants to take me out tomorrow morning.”

  “To where? Church? Who gets up early on a Sunday?”

  “Well, people who go to church.”

  “We are not those people,” she says, gesturing between us. “We drink. We sleep in.”

  “Sorry,” I reply, poking out my bottom lip. “I’ll make it up to you next weekend. We’ll get really drunk.”

  “You’ll take shots?” she questions.

  “Yep.”

  “Tequila shots?”

  I make a face, but then she gives me a stern look. “Fine. Yes.”

  “What about body shots?” Royce asks, handing me my card and receipt.

  “Ooh!” Midge squeals, clapping her hands and peering up at me with huge, pleading eyes.

  “Midge seems excited to do them,” I tell Royce, giving him a smirk.

  “But I was asking you.”

  I sign my receipt and hand it back to him. “Gotta go. See you next time.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Something about the way he says those three words, and all the promise they hold, affects me in a way it shouldn’t.

  It’s nearing two o’clock, so I announce last call so people can get their final drinks. The crowd has dwindled down to about fifteen, including Olive, who’s still waiting for me with her friends. She glances at me as I move to sit with my brothers, and I give her a reassuring smile and nod, letting her know I didn’t forget about her.

  “You guys have a good night?” I ask, sitting next to Elijah.

  “Cillian had his nose buried in that notebook the whole time,” Elijah states, gesturing to Cill who’s still drawing.

  “What’re you doing, man?” I question.

  “Oh, I’m just sketching some things,” he replies, finally raising his head. “If I don’t do it when I think of them, I’ll forget.”

  I slap my hand on Elijah’s shoulder. “Saw a lady over here talking to you.”

  He makes a face. “Hardly my type.”

  “You don’t have a type,” Cill laughs. “You’ve fucked tall girls, short girls, brunettes, redheads. You’ve—”

  Elijah holds up his hand. “We get it. Thanks.”

  “What was wrong with her?”

  “She was too young.”

  “She had to be at least twenty-one to be in here.”

  “There’s a lot of years between twenty-one and thirty-five. Fourteen to be exact.”

  “Yes, I know. Thank you, Mr. Math Professor,” I respond with a laugh. “She’s still an adult.”

  “Don’t worry about my love life. I have people I can call on if I want some company. What about you? Let’s talk about how you spent your night flirting with London, but also talking to this girl here,” he says, gesturing in Olive’s direction.

  “First of all, there’s nothing going on between me and London. You guys know that. I flirt with her, but I flirt with everyone,” I say, shrugging it off. “Olive,” I gesture toward her, “approached me and is waiting for me to get off.”

  Cillian puts his pencil down. “Bro, don’t act like London is just a random girl you flirt with. You flirt differently with her. We’ve been around. We’ve seen it.”

  I open my mouth to defend myself, my gaze ping-ponging between my two brothers, but change my mind because I know they’re already aware of the truth. “All right, fine. But she has a boyfriend, and she hasn’t broken up with him, no matter how many times I’ve asked.”

  Elijah laughs. “Why would she break up with him for one night with you?”

  “Whoa. Number one, one night with me would be like a year’s worth of nights with him. She just doesn’t know that yet.”

  “Yet,” Cill scoffs.

  “Yes, yet. And number two, who said it would only be for one night?”

  They both bark out laughs. “You don’t date,” Cill states, still chuckling. “When was your last relationship?”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “Right. And how many times have you been with the same woman more than once?” he questions, an amused smirk on his face.

  “There’s been a few. It’s a small town.”

  “Have you taken any of them on dates? To the movies? Dinner?”

  “Why do you care? Why are we even talking about me? Elijah hasn’t been in a relationship in a while.”

  Elijah gives me a no-nonsense expression that tells me to leave it alone, but his looks no longer scare me. Not since I was a teenager and he played the role of Dad.

  “I’m not touching that,” Cill states, backing off.

  “I’m just saying, if he can run through chicks, so can I.”

  I stretch my legs out under the table and lay my arm across the back of Elijah’s chair. Elijah’s last relationship was a serious one. Definitely more serious than any relationship I’ve ever had, and he was heartbroken over the way things ended. I think it affected him in such a deep way that he changed a little bit. He’s more guarded.

  “Anyone hear from Merrick lately?” Cill asks.

  “Last week,” Elijah responds. “That kid is probably getting into all kinds of trouble. He was the biggest troublemaker out of you three.”

  “Nah, me and Royce were always getting into some shit together, but Royce always found a way to keep from getting in trouble,” Cill says.

  “It’s not my fault you never ran when I told you to,” I say with a laugh.

  “You guys just don’t know half the stuff Merrick was caught doing,” Elijah confesses. “He’s probably having the time of his life right now.”

  Merrick, the youngest at twenty-two, is the star of the family. Or at least he will be soon. Merrick’s band, The Unwanted, used to play here almost every Saturday night. They worked hard to make demos, and created music videos and uploaded them to YouTube, garnering quite a following. They did their own small tours in a van, traveling around Ohio and to Pennsylvania and New York, playing where they could, including state fairs and music festivals. They recently signed a deal and are currently finishing up their album. Their single is climbing the charts, and a tour is on the horizon.

  “Man, I’m proud of that kid,” Cill says. “A fuckin’ rock star. I should’ve been in a band in high school, too.”

  “That’s all right. You’re an artist,” Elijah says, always the supporter.

  Cill smirks. “Damn right.”

  “Plus, you’re completely, one-hundred percent tone deaf. Jesus Christ, you almost drove away all the customers the one night you did karaoke,” I joke.

  He flips me off with his tattoo-covered hand. “Fuck off. I was drunk.”

  “Anyway.” I stand up and scan the room, noticing almost everybody is gone. “I’m gonna go make sure Chad and Lennox close shit down, and then I’m gonna go spend some time with Olive.”

  “All right, man,” Cill says, “See ya later.”

  “Thanks for the free drinks,” Elijah says, lifting his glass in the air.

  “Free? Who said they were free?”

  “You’re buying, right?” he asks with a smirk.

  “Whatever, bro.”

  They both laugh as I walk over to Chad and Lennox. Chad’s one of the other bartenders, and Lennox splits managing du
ty with me. The cooks stopped cooking a couple hours ago, so the kitchen is already clean and shutdown for the night.

  “Hey, you guys can finish up, yeah?”

  Lennox nods, already counting the cash from the register. “I got it.”

  “Cool. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

  He nods again, focused on his task.

  I turn around and spot Olive watching me. She smiles as I crook my finger, calling her over. She says goodbye to her friends who are quick to leave.

  Elijah slips Lennox some money for his drinks, gives me a quick wave, then he and

  Cillian vanish through the door.

  “You wanna go upstairs with me?” I ask Olive.

  “Upstairs?” she questions, expressing confusion with her pinched brows.

  “Yeah, it’s where I stay. There’s a bed up there.”

  She bites down on her lip. “Okay.”

  I grab her hand and lead her through a door that opens up to a flight of stairs. When we get to the top, I open up another door and we walk into my apartment.

  “This is where you live?” she asks, casting her eyes around the room.

  “Sometimes. I have another place, but this is close to work.”

  She giggles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  I tighten my grip on her hand and pull her into me. Her mouth crashes against mine, and her hands squeeze the muscles in my chest before traveling down my stomach. Her fingers dip into the waistband of my jeans before popping open the button and pulling down the zipper.

  When I close my eyes, it’s London’s face I see, London’s touch I feel, London who fills my mind.

  Fuck.

  When my phone rings, I place it on the table in front of me and press the speaker button while I continue stretching.

  “Hey, Midge.”

  “How was church?”

  I laugh, bending over and stretching my hamstrings. “I didn’t go to church.”