Tennessee Stud

Chapter One - Green Eyes

I want the pounding in my head to stop as my fingers massage my forehead to try soothing the ache that is currently making me regret my decisions from the night before. The same decisions that are making me realize the lights in this café are too fucking bright for my liking right now. I'm sitting in the booth farthest from the front door, hidden way in the back trying to avoid human contact while I nurse my hangover.

Yes, I am hungover. Yes, I did this to myself. Yes, I am wishing right about now I would make better decisions about how I spend my free time.

I hear a sigh as a familiar face walks towards me with a cup of steaming hot tea with sugar and extra half & half poured into it. I know its for me and it takes everything in me to slightly peek out from under my eyelids to see my manager Dayna setting my cup in front of me.

"Ryder, are you aware you're not scheduled today? Go home. You look miserable."

"I know, I came in to get a cup of tea by the best manager in the universe. The same manger that I don't need a lecture from for being a dumbass with my free time."

She rolls her eyes at me, but I can see the smile she is trying to hide caused by my smartass comment. Dayna has been my manager for the last three years of my life. I work at the Blackbird. It's a very small, but very popular café in town. Dayna and her husband, Jack own The Blackbird. They hired me a few weeks before my nineteenth birthday. She's become mother hen to me and this hole in the wall place has become my home.

My mom passed away when I was seventeen in her sleep. I was in the living room binge watching Metal Mania. I couldn't sleep because I had a weird feeling that night. Something was not right but I ignored the signs to try to force myself to get to sleep. The sound of Ozzy Osbourne's 'Mama I'm coming home' was the last song I remember before I drifted off to sleep on our grey couch. I woke the next morning to find mom in her bed, long gone. The way she was laying in her bed so peacefully is an image I will have in my head forever.

My parents separated the summer before I started high school. My father and I never had a close bond. I feel like most days he forgot I existed or maybe he just didn't care. Of course he couldn't forget me though, he pays my rent. If that check doesn't come once a month I couldn't afford to do it on my own with what I make at the Café. He has since started over with a new family since they divorced and I think we both had a silent agreement that I won't bother him or try to exist in his life as long as that check comes once a month. I think it's his way of saying, "I know your mom is gone and I'm the only family you have, but I don't want a relationship with you so here is a check."

"Ryder... your tea is getting cold... Ryder! Are you even hearing me child?"

I come out of my thoughts and force myself to make eye contact with Dayna to make her feel like I was listening to every word she had said, and I wasn't lost in memories of my past. .

"I asked, what did you do last night?"

I don't want to tell her the truth. I don't want to tell her I was at a bar in the next town over getting drunk off of red-bull vodkas. I refuse to tell her I am a functioning alcoholic. I don't want to tell her that I'm trying to remember bits and pieces from last night because I may have drank more than I intended to when I walked into the bar, I think the bar was called Lucky's. I don't want to lie to Dayna, but I'm sure as hell not going to tell her the truth. So I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I got wine drunk and watched Steel Magnolias..."

I watch her roll her eyes at me and I'm hoping she believes me so she'll let me nurse my hangover in peace.

"Drink your tea child."

I watch Dayna leave me to tend to the front of the café and seat customers that have just walked in. I sit and think about the night before trying to piece together what the fuck happened last night. I take a sip of my tea while my mind draws a blank. I remember taking a shot of vodka while I finished my winged eyeliner. I wore a tight black dress that sat at the middle of my thigh with my leather jacket layered on top with my black ankle booties. My dark blonde hair was curled and sat at my shoulders.. I remember getting to the bar, buying myself a drink, and listening to the rock band playing covers. I live in Nashville, but I avoid Country music at all costs.

I reach for my cup of tea and bring it my lips. It's hot and tastes like heaven during this shit ass hangover. I take a long sip and wince at the stupid bell above our front door that announces customers either entering or exiting. For the sake of this hangover from the depths of hell I'm hoping it's customers leaving because this is supposed to be my quiet place to get my tea and possibly order my free grease filled food item to soak up some of the alcohol in my stomach. I have not gone this hard in a long time. I have no fucking idea why I drank this much, and I can't fucking remember why I would do it to myself in the first place. I rub the back of my neck with my hand while silently begging myself not to do this again. But I'll be honest, I know I will. The truth is that I'm lonely. I hate being home and I drink to numb the pain I have hidden in myself. The café is home and my coworkers have managed to become the only family I have.

I go back to my thoughts of trying to remember why I had amnesia of the night before. I pulled the hood of my black jacket up over my head and sank into the booth a little. I take my mug into both of my hands and wrap my fingers around until they almost overlap each other. I stare into the cup like it's a crystal ball of my past actions from the night before ready to give me a play by play. .

I hear that stupid bell above the door again. I glance up to watch three men walk in. The tallest of the three has no blank space left on either arm. He's a walking canvas covered in artwork. He's wearing dark blue jeans, a black V-neck tee, and black boots. His hair is dark, a bit darker than the other two dudes he walked in with. They look related but my head hurts too bad to concentrate that hard.

He glances around the café to check his surroundings on the way to his table. We make eye contact and his green eyes felt like they were staring into my soul.

Holy. Fucking. Hell.

I sit up straighter in the booth and the memories of last night came at me like a tidal wave.

The green eyes coming closer to my face.

My fingers gripping his black shirt to pull him into me.

His lips on my neck and the way his moan sounded when his hand squeezed my ass.

The way my short ass made him tower over me as I sucked on his bottom lip while tugging on his hair.

I can still feel his finger-tips exploring and tickling the outside of my thighs before I hiked my leg up to hold him against me to try to ease the ache between my thighs. The ache that was being caused by the green eyed dude kissing me.

I see the tacky ass hickey I left on his neck in my drunken state. What am I? Fourteen?!

I remember security clearing out the bar in the middle of our grope session and we must have decided to go our separate ways. I don't remember getting home but I know I went home alone.

The green eyed guy walks away from the other two guys he's with and starts to walk towards me.

Fucking hell.