Take Me for Granted

Chapter 34: Aribel

As soon as I opened the door to my room, everyone started speaking at once. I hadn’t expected to be bombarded, and I jumped clear out of my skin. I groaned at the sudden movement, and I couldn’t keep from wincing at the soreness between my legs.

“Ah!” Cheyenne shrieked. “I know that face.”

“What face?” I asked defiantly.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

“Did what?”

I knew I wasn’t going to keep this from them. Cheyenne, Shelby, and Gabi had been trying to get me to lose my virginity in the year and a half since I started living with them. It had been downright shocking to them that I still had my V-card after all this time. Well, I guessed I didn’t have it anymore.

A smile touched my lips.

“You did! That smile!” Cheyenne continued.

“Cheyenne, leave her be,” Shelby said.

“But did you?” Gabi asked in her soft voice.

“You guys are so nosy.” I tried to walk around them to my luggage. I seriously was in need of a shower and change of clothes.

Cheyenne started giggling. “You can’t even walk straight.”

“I’m fine.”

“We’re just excited for you,” Shelby said, smacking Cheyenne on the arm.

I flounced down on the bed and sighed. As much as I wanted to remain stoic about the whole thing and keep so much of it private, just the thought of what had occurred brought another smile to my lips. God, that man!

“Yeah, so spill the details!” Cheyenne cried.

I opened my mouth to tell them what had happened, but instead, I said the first thing that came to mind, “I heard you were with Vin last night.”

“Um…yeah! It was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah, actually, she won’t shut up about it,” Shelby said.

“I could probably give you a play-by-play,” Gabi confirmed.

A part of me wanted to tell Cheyenne what had happened between Vin, Miller, and Sydney. She should know what she was getting into, but as she started yammering on about dick size, how rough he had been, and a whole slew of other things I didn’t want to know, I just couldn’t break it to her. She was too happy about what had happened. Plus, Sydney lived in Tennessee. It wasn’t like that was going anywhere. As far as I could tell, Sydney was more interested in Miller, and Vin had just overreacted. No need to bring it up unnecessarily.

Shelby snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Aribel. Was Grant really that good?”

“What?” I asked in a daze.

“We were talking, and you were off in la-la land,” Gabi said.

“Oh my God, would you please just tell us that you slept with him?” Cheyenne pleaded. “I mean, we all assume, especially with the way you’re walking like you’ve been riding a horse all day—i.e., Grant’s dick. Plus, you never came back last night!”

“I’m just going to completely ignore the horse reference,” I said with a shake of my head, “but Grant and I did sleep together.”

I would have thought that I’d just won a million dollars in the lottery with the enthusiasm from my roommates. In the society I came from, virginity was lauded and encouraged. I wasn’t especially religious, but I’d attended church with my parents. Even if I had never purposely avoided sex for religious reasons, holding on to my virtue was still ingrained in me in a way. Getting praised for having sex was such a bizarre thing to me.

“I can’t believe it took you guys this long, but I’m so happy for you,” Cheyenne said. “Was it amazing? Is he huge? Was it rough? Did you orgasm like ten times? Did he make you come on command? You know that actually works.”

“What are you talking about? It was my first time! I think he would have killed me if he’d been rough or whatever else you were saying,” I said, exasperated.

“Yeah, but…was he, like, gentle then? Did you go back to back? I bet he’s been dying for this. I bet he went again right away.”

My face flushed. I did not want to talk about this. Did these things actually happen? I thought I was pushing it by having sex again the next afternoon!

“Cheyenne, you’re freaking her out again,” Shelby said.

“I’m not freaked out!”

“Your face is super red,” Gabi murmured. She flipped a strand of hair out of her face and smiled at me.

Thanks for pointing out the obvious.

“It could be because I’m getting drilled on my sex life!”

“That’s not the only thing that’s drilling you,” Cheyenne said with a giggle.

I laughed along with my friends. What else could I do? I’d walked right into that one.

“So…seriously,” Shelby said, glaring at Cheyenne who had opened her mouth to say something that would likely be crude, “worth the wait?”

My mind wandered off to the feel of Grant’s arms around me, his mouth against mine, him sliding in and out of me. It had been painful, uncomfortable, and even a little awkward, but it had also been incredible, emotional, overwhelming, and all-consuming.

“Totally worth the wait.”

After my shower, the girls insisted that I wear something nice for the ContraBand show, so I decided on a V-cut blue sweater tucked into a high-waisted Aztec-print skirt with my knee-high black riding boots. I had plans to meet with Grant ahead of time, but the girls decided to walk down to the lodge with me.

Grant had given me vague directions on how to get backstage, so I waved good-bye to my friends and walked around to the back of the building. There was a side entrance with a guy standing nearby, absentmindedly texting on his phone. I wasn’t sure if I should check in with him or not. Grant hadn’t mentioned it. I decided to throw caution to the wind and just pretend like I was supposed to be here. I was sure there were going to be other girls backstage. As little as I wanted to look like some groupie whore, it would probably be easier than explaining myself.

The guy barely glanced up at me as he muttered under his breath, “Who are you here with?”

“ContraBand,” I said stiffly.

“Okay,” he said with a shrug.

Top-notch security. Seriously, top-notch.

I walked through the employee-only door to backstage. Grant had been right. This was nothing like being backstage at The League. The room was massive with enough space for a medium-sized theater production. Band equipment was everywhere from drum sets being assembled to keyboards being wheeled into position to several thousand-dollar guitars lying haphazardly across couches. I knew Grant would never treat his baby so carelessly.

Amidst all the chaos of bands, groupies, and staff, I was somehow supposed to find Grant. My eyes roamed the room, but there were simply too many people for me to pick him out. I shot off a text asking him where he was and then started to wander around the room.

I’d made it halfway when I spotted Miller and McAvoy off in a corner. McAvoy was in a short-sleeved shirt showing off the intricate tattoos that ran up his arm and across his chest. He was flipping his drumstick in one hand and smoking. Miller, as usual, was dressed nicer in a clean polo with his brown hair pushed off his face.

“Hey, guys. Have you seen Grant?” I asked as I approached.

They both turned to look at me.

“We thought he was with you,” Miller said.

“Nope. I left a while ago, and he said he’d meet me here. I haven’t heard from him.”

“Strange,” McAvoy said, looking surprisingly with it today.

“Yeah, he’s supposed to be here already. Vin…well, we expected him to be late but not Grant.”

“Try giving him a ring,” I told them. “I’m going to do another sweep, and I’ll meet you back over here.”

I was lost in thought about Grant being late for the band’s assigned meeting time. He wasn’t a forgetful person. What had held him up?

As these thoughts swirled in my head, a hand reached out to stop me. I turned around and shook the guy off of me.

The last thing I would consider myself was someone who got muddled by a pretty face. I’d held Grant off long enough after all. This guy was rough around the edges with a soul-searching look that made want to do what he asked. He…was beautiful. Straight-out-of-a-magazine, model-worthy beautiful. One look in his green eyes told me he knew it, too. Tall, trim but muscular, perfect skin—probably better skin than me—with flawless tousled hair and full lips. A guy like this made me feel flat and dull.

At least I still had my charming personality.

“Can I help you?” I snapped.

“I think you can.” His eyes shifted to my chest.

I’d worn a low-cut top for Grant, and I suddenly felt exposed. “I really don’t think so.”

I started to walk away, and he cut me off. “You are truly striking with the most incredible lips.”

“Is this a walking Little Red Riding Hood joke?”

That startled him. “No joke. You’re beautiful. Did you want to come meet the rest of my band? I’m certain you’ve heard of us.”

Doubtful. “Nope. Just looking for my boyfriend.”

“Perhaps he shouldn’t have left you unattended.”

“What is this? The seventeenth century?”

The guy laughed again and then stuck out his hand. “I’m Donovan Jenkins. I sing lead in The Drift.”

Oh. Well, damn. I actually did know who they were. Worse yet, I actually liked their latest single.

“Ah…so you have heard of us.”

“I think everyone has heard of you. As nice as it is to meet you, I am really just looking for my boyfriend, Grant McDermott.”

“Oh, Grant?” Donovan asked. “Yeah, he’s cool. He’s hanging out with us.”

“What?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah. Come with me,” Donovan said, slinging an arm across my shoulders.

I shrugged him off again but followed. What would Grant be doing with The Drift?

We rounded a corner, and then Donovan opened a door to a private room. It was like walking into a crowded nightclub. Music was blasting, booze was everywhere, and smoke coated the air, making it nearly impossible to see in the dim lighting. A few girls were dancing on the center table while others were draped across every available space in the room, and a couple was making out in the back corner. I was pretty sure I saw someone snorting a line of coke on the bar.

I coughed to clear the smoke from my lungs, and Donovan closed the door behind me. He draped his arm across my shoulders again, but there wasn’t enough room to wiggle away, and he was already walking us away from the door. I hoped this wasn’t some stunt, and he actually knew Grant, or I was going to be pissed.

Donovan easily maneuvered me through the crowd. Everyone knew him, and people seemed to part like the Red Sea in his wake.

Then, he stopped and whispered in my ear, “That your boy?”

There was Grant—sitting on a couch, drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle, a cigarette hanging between his lips, chatting and laughing with two guys sitting across from him. His arms were resting across the back of the couch, and two girls were cozied up beside him.

One of them I even recognized. Kristin. What the fuck?