Thoughtless

By: S.C. Stephens

Denny had gotten directions on the way over and we easily found Pete's bar. He managed to find an empty space in the 'it's Friday night, let's go drink' jammed-full parking lot and nimbly pulled the car in. The second the engine shut off, I practically jumped out of the door and stretched for a solid minute. Denny chuckled at me, but did the same. Grabbing each other's hands, we made our way to the open front doors. We were later than we had expected to be, and the band was already playing, their music drifting out to us in the lot. We walked inside the doors and Denny scanned the room quickly. He pointed out a really big guy leaning against the side wall, watching the audience, who were mostly watching the band, and we started making our way through the packed room to him.

On the way over, I looked up at the stage to the four guys performing there. They all looked to be around my age, in their early twenties. Their music was fast, driving rock and the singer's voice was perfectly matched to the style, rough, yet really sexy. Huh, they're pretty good, I thought idly, while Denny expertly navigated us through a sea of easy-to-bump-into feet and elbows.

I couldn't help but notice the lead singer first. No one would be able to overlook him, he was drop-dead gorgeous. He had intense eyes that were busy scanning the crowd of adoring women clustered around the front of the stage. His light, sandy-brown hair was a thick, wild mess. It was longer on the top with shorter, shaggy layers all the way around and he was running his hand through it in a rather adorable way. As Anna would say, he had "bedroom hair." Well, okay, she would use a cruder adjective, my sister could be a little crass, but it was the kind of style that looked like he had just been ravished in the back room. I blushed as it occurred to me that maybe he had been... Anyway, it was alarmingly attractive on him. Not everyone could pull off that kind of look.

His clothes were surprisingly basic, like he knew he didn't have to accessorize his looks. His shirt was just a basic gray tee, with the long sleeves pushed back to the elbow. It was just tight enough to hint at what was most definitely a fabulous body underneath. He wore perfectly lived-in black jeans with black, heavy boots. Simple, yet stunning. He looked like a rock god.

Even with all that, the most amazing part of him, besides his alluring voice, was his unbelievably sexy smile. He only showed glimpses of it through the words he was singing, but it was enough. A smooth half-smile here and there - flirting with the crowd. Utterly charming.

He was downright sexy. Unfortunately, he knew it.

He met eyes with every one of his adoring "fans." They went crazy as his gaze passed over them. Now that I was looking closer, his half-smiles were disconcertingly seductive. His eyes were practically undressing each and every one of them. My sister also had a choice turn-of-phrase for those kinds of eyes.

Watching him seduce the entire cluster of female groupies was making me blush uncomfortably, and I shifted my focus to the remaining three members.

The two guys on either side of the singer were so similar, that they had to be related, probably brothers. They seemed about the same size, slightly shorter than the singer, and thinner, not quite as...well built. They had the exact same slim nose and thin lips. One played lead guitar, one played bass guitar, and they were both passably cute. Possibly, if I had seen them first, and not the singer, I would have thought them more attractive.

The lead guitarist was wearing khaki shorts and a black t-shirt featuring the name and logo of a band I didn't know. His hair was blonde, short and spiky. He played the difficult sounding piece with a look of concentration on his face, his light eyes flicking over the crowd every once and awhile, then back down to his hands.

His equally light-eyed, blonde-haired relative, wore his hair longer, down to his chin, and tucked behind his ears. He was also wearing shorts and his t-shirt made me chuckle a little; it simply read, "I'm with the band". He played the bass with an almost bored expression on his face and kept looking over to the guitarist, who could so easily be his twin. I got the impression he would rather be playing that instrument.

The final guy was tucked behind the drums, so I couldn't see much of him. I was just thankful that he had clothes on at all, since many drummers felt the need to be nearly naked when they played. But he had the kindest face in the world, with big, dark eyes and buzzed-cut brown hair. He had gauges in his ears, maybe half-inch ones. I wasn't too big a fan of those, but on him, they looked oddly attractive. His arms were covered in bright, colorful tattoos, like an art mural, and he flew through the complicated drum patterns effortlessly, while scanning the crowd with a big grin on his face.

Denny had only mentioned that our new roommate, Kellan, was in this band. He had never elaborated on which member that might be. I hoped it was the big, teddy bear looking guy in the back. He seemed like he'd be easy going.

Denny had finally worked us through the crowd to the burly man. He'd noticed us approaching and was smiling broadly at Denny. "G'Day, mate! Glad to see ya again," he yelled over the music, trying to mimic Denny's accent, and butchering it horribly.

I smiled to myself. Everyone always tried to sound like him, once they heard him speak. Usually, nobody pulled it off well. It was just one of those accents that sounded phony unless you had lived there. Denny was always trying to get me to use it, it highly amused him when people tried, but I knew I couldn't, so I didn't even try. No point in making myself look stupid.

"Hey, Sam, long time, no see." Denny's year here as an exchange student back in high school had introduced him to Kellan. Since Sam looked about Denny's age, I assumed that was how he knew him too. I smiled wider as they gave each other a swift "guy" hug.

Sam was a big guy. He definitely had a beefcake body, his red shirt barely containing his muscles. His head was completely shaved, and if he hadn't been grinning, I would never have dared to approach him. There was just an air of menace about him, which, now that I noticed the name of the bar across his shirt, seemed appropriate. He obviously worked as a bouncer here.

Sam leaned in closer to us, so he didn't have to talk quite so loud. "Kellan told me you were coming in tonight. Staying with him, huh?" He looked over at me standing beside Denny. "This your girl?" he asked, before Denny could answer his first question.

"Yeah, this is Kiera, Kiera Allen." Denny smiled over at me. I loved the way his accent slid over my name. "Kiera, this is Sam. He and I were mates in school."

"Hello." I smiled slightly at him, not knowing what else to do.

I hated meeting people for the first time. It always made me a little uncomfortable and very self-conscious. I didn't feel like I was anything special to look at. Not that I was unattractive, just nothing special. My brown hair was long and, thankfully, thick, with a slight curl to it. My eyes were hazel and I'd been told expressive (which in my head, always translated to overly large). My height was in the middle for a girl, 5'5", and I was pretty lean, thanks to running track in school. But overall, I felt very average.

Sam nodded back at me and looked over to talk to Denny again. "Anyway, Kellan had to start his set, but he left your key with me in case you guys didn't want to stay....you know, long drive and all." He reached in his jeans pocket and handed the key over to Denny.

That was sure nice of Kellan. I was dead tired, and really just wanted to get settled in, then sleep for about two days straight. I really didn't want to have to wait for who knows how long a "set" lasted to get our key. I glanced back over to the band again. The singer was still mentally undressing every woman he spotted. Occasionally, he would suck in a breath through his teeth, exaggerating the sound in a way that was almost intimate. He leaned over the microphone and reached out a hand to get closer to his adoring fans, making them squeal in delight. Most of the men in the bar were farther back, but some boyfriends had stuck close to their girls. Those men eyed the singer with decided distaste. I couldn't help but think that some day he was going to get his ass seriously kicked.

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