Talk Nerdy To Me (The Sterling Shore Series Book 13) Read online

  I crank the car, mulling over his last bit about all the lights. “Are you scared of the dark?” I ask, delving into the depth of his weirdness.

  He coughs on his laughter this time. He should get that seen about. That could be harmful. To laugh like that so often could possibly cause him to rupture something. For all he knows, they could be signs of repetitive seizures.

  “No. My roommates don’t believe in sleep. We’re renting a place from Tag. He’s my cousin, and he’s the one who got me the audition for a regular gig at Silk a while back. How long have you worked there?”

  Technically, this was my debut. I know everything about the club, but I’ve never worked there before.

  “One day.”

  “One day and you have the keys and a security code? You must have made one hell of an impression on Dane,” he says distractedly as he types something on his phone.

  From my peripheral, I can see him lift his eyes and start staring at me as I drive, even as I try to process what any of that is supposed to mean.

  I decide he’s just stating something rhetorical and doesn’t need any rhetorical follow-up comments on the matter.

  “Did you even listen to the set?” he asks when I stay quiet.

  Should I tell him the music is too loud?

  Probably not. I’m sure someone would probably tell me that’s rude.

  “It sounded well.”

  I hope they did well. People seemed to be enjoying themselves, so I assume they were either too intoxicated to know better, or they genuinely enjoyed the band. Since it was under twenty-one night, you’d think the crowd would be sober. I don’t particularly think they were.

  “We did well?” he asks like he can’t believe I just used that word.

  “You did... bad?” I ask, confused. Are musicians among the culture that uses bad as good?

  “You didn’t even listen to us, did you? How is that even possible?” he groans, but a smile plays on his lips. “You’re so—”

  “Weird,” I say simply, filling in his void for the right word. “I know.”

  “I was going to say interesting. Not weird.”

  I glance over to see his very distracting smile. He needs to put that thing away. I might be different, but I’m still a girl with regular hormones and completely unsated needs, an inconveniently curious nature, and all thanks to my infuriating blockade called a hymen that particularly terrifies most men, I’m still a virgin.

  “I think we’re here,” I say when I see a large house with lights glaring from every window.

  A large group of people are hanging out on the raised side-deck beside the oceanfront pool. The girls have stripped down to their underwear, and they’re diving into said pool. It actually looks a little fun.

  Dane and his friends do stuff like this all the time, but I always feel like a tagalong because of the ever-expanding legion of couples. I usually just observe their interactions, wondering how people get that comfortable with such ease.

  If I spontaneously stripped down to my underwear at one of their parties, five Sterlings would immediately be throwing blankets at me and yelling for me to cover up.

  They do the same when I wear a bikini with no cover-up.

  “You want to stay and party with us?” Base asks, drawing my attention back to him as he puts his hand on the door to get out.

  “Um...no. It’s fine.”

  I appreciate the polite gesture, but I’d stick out terribly in a setting where I know no one who could serve as a buffer.

  “Have you got something pressing you have to do tomorrow morning? And by tomorrow morning, I mean when the sun rises in a few hours,” he says, while I continue to stare ahead at all the fun.

  “Nothing so early.”

  I smile when I see one of the guys scooping a girl over his shoulder and tossing her into the water.

  “Then come on. We don’t bite.” He pauses. “On second thought, there has been some biting in the past. Regardless, it’ll be fun,” he says, teasing me. I think he’s teasing, anyway.

  I’m certainly not opposed to the prospect of fun, but I’m not fond of being bitten.

  “Are you sure? You realize I’m not exactly the type of person people invite to a party,” I state for clarification.

  Anyone who knows the Sterlings are fully aware of my limited social graces. Though, I have improved a lot.

  He frowns. I’m not sure if that’s confusion or constipation—really, though, too many expressions resemble constipation. There should be a handbook.

  “Then you should start coming to the parties you are invited to,” he says, letting his expression change again as that smile he wears so well spreads across his lips.

  I’ll probably be laughed at even more than he’s already laughed at me, but I nod in agreement and open the door to get out.

  “Atta girl. You’ll be pleased to know the guys always bring home an excess of women, and I’m sure some of them are switch-hitters…if that’s your thing…”

  I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about, but instead of asking, I do what I do with my group and just nod like it makes all the sense in the world. However, I do wish I had one of my people to play buffer right now.

  “Cool,” I say, sounding utterly ridiculous even to myself.

  “Knew it,” he says as he cracks his neck.

  “Knew what?” I ask, moving closer to his side as we start up the steps.

  “Nothing. You drink?”

  Finally. Something I understand. “Yes, please. I’d love a cranberry juice. I kept seeing them all night but never had time to drink one.”

  “And vodka?” he asks, grinning.

  Sigh. I thought I understood. “Never tried it.”

  “Then let’s remedy that. I’ll mix the drink while you meet everyone.”

  I’ll only have a sip if it has alcohol. I’ll wait until I get home to have just cranberry juice.

  “So he did bring a girl,” the drummer from the band says, smiling as we walk his way.

  Base quickly runs through introductions, and I memorize each face with each name, smiling my practiced smile the entire time. Then the guys start introducing the girls, and the girls correct them when they get the names wrong.

  Forgetting names is considered rude. It’s one rude thing I manage to avoid doing.

  “It’s a lot of people, but you’ll just need to learn my bandmates’ names,” Base whispers.

  “I think I’ve got it. Sticks, drummer. Taylor, keyboardist. Randy, bass guitarist.” In quick succession, I point at each girl as I call out their names. “Trixie, Ginger, Mary, Misty, Cindy, Crystal, and Amber. Right?” I ask.

  There. Now I’ve set the precedent that I’m not intentionally rude, and I can build onto the foundation from there.

  It goes a little quiet. Everyone is staring at me like I have some explaining to do. I know that look really well.

  “Seeing the faces while hearing the names is an easy recording mechanism. Recording things I read is actually easier.”

  Still…no one speaks.

  “I’m Britt,” I say when the silence stretches on.

  “Why do I feel like I know you?” Sticks asks, pointing a drumstick at me as the intensity in his eyes doubles, presumably putting an effort into extracting a memory.

  “We don’t know each other,” I assure him. “I don’t forget encounters.”

  “You keep getting more interesting, Britt,” Base says, smiling as he heads into the house, leaving me out here on my own.

  Am I supposed to follow him? I’m his guest, right?

  “You seriously look very familiar,” Sticks says, tapping his chin like he’s giving it thought.

  “I was just at the club,” I supply.

  He flashes a grin at Taylor. “Too fucking sweet, man.”

  How does he know if I’m sweet or not? He’s only just met me.

  “So you work at Silk?” Taylor asks.

  “Yes,” I answer simply, not elaborating on the fact it’s
temporary or that I have an internship with Harley.

  I’m not sure why he’s giving me that look—the confused/constipated face. Base gave it to me earlier, but I’m answering their questions.

  “O...kay. Nothing to add to that?” he asks unsurely.

  “Outside of my circle, people seem to lose interest when I’m detailing information about topics that aren’t interesting enough to be detailed—i.e. this topic isn’t interesting enough to be detailed.”

  I’m definitely making it awkward. The more I talk, the worse I’ll make it, so I just stand quietly as everyone shifts around on their feet like they don’t know what to say now.

  “Glad Base found a woman, because I’m not sharing,” Taylor says, grabbing two girls by the waist and pulling them with him as he crashes into the pool.

  It slightly breaks up the growing tension.

  I’m curious about that comment, but I don’t feel comfortable asking too many questions just yet.

  Base walks back out, sans guitar case, and he’s carrying a glass of red liquid in his hand.

  “Your drink,” he says, smiling down at me as he collapses to the chair across from me.

  I take it and cautiously sip it, tasting nothing more than cranberry juice. Good. He decided not to add vodka. My next sip is generous, and he smiles.

  “Like it?”

  I smile and nod, and he takes a sip of what appears to be a dark soda.

  “Cranberry juice and vodka?” Trixie says, turning her nose up. I guess that means it does have vodka, since Base nods.

  I put the drink down after the second sip.

  “I hate that stuff. I prefer Jack and Coke,” she adds, glancing at his drink.

  Base holds his drink up. “Same here, but you can’t have mine.” To me he says, “Very little vodka at all. Not even half a shot.”

  I just nod, even though I’m still finished with it.

  Trixie rolls her eyes, and then she takes a seat next to Base—very close to Base. There’s no rational reason why that bothers me or why I almost vocalize that it bothers me.

  I swallow all the words very hard.

  “It’s a big deck,” he says when her arm touches his in the chair as she slides almost right against him.

  I swallow more words. It’s completely wrong for me to say anything at all.

  “I don’t want to sit alone, and everyone else is in the pool,” she tells him, turning her body in a way that suggests I’m now eavesdropping on their conversation instead of being included.

  Several of the partiers climb free from the pool, and they slowly start to make their way toward our table as they laugh and talk about stuff I’m not very well versed with.

  I’ll have to read up on music if they decide to include me again. Next time I’ll bring a buffer. My buffers make everything I say sound like part of my charming quirk, and people feel instantly more comfortable around me.

  I’ve never been able to do that all by myself.

  Chapter 5

  BASE

  “You can scoot over some,” I groan.

  I swear, every time there’s an unwelcome hand snaking up the inside of my leg like I’m supposed to allow every girl to touch whatever she wants, I remember why I hate fucking parties.

  “I have a sensitive nose. Can that drink be tossed out or walked away?” she asks Britt before turning back to me, already half wasted as she slurs the words.

  “I’m trying hard not to be an ass right now, but you’re getting on my nerves,” I tell her in the nicest fucking way I can.

  “That drink smells disgusting. I don’t know how she’s drinking it without gagging,” she says instead of giving me any space.

  People have no personal boundaries when they’re drinking with us.

  Britt swallows the sip in her mouth before brightly saying, “Oh. I don’t have a gag reflex.”

  I almost strangle to death before the gulp lodged in my throat spews across the deck, and several of the guys cough on air. I’m sort of ashamed my dick just went completely hard in less than two seconds.

  I really thought I was more evolved than that.

  “Marry me,” Taylor says as he starts walking on his knees toward Britt.

  I realize then that Britt is dead serious and doesn’t seem to have a clue what it means to have said that in front of four fucking perverted guys.

  She slinks back like she’s shrinking in confusion at the outburst she can’t make sense of.

  But…I get why the chicks are giving her the look that says they’re calling bullshit on playing coy.

  I watch it all play out, and then I immediately decide I want to know more about Britt. Starting with her last name and what Britt is short for.

  I could really see myself hanging out with her, especially since there won’t be any sex. Then I can find out why the hell she hates my music.

  She sips her drink quietly, appearing timid, probably because she doesn’t know why everyone is laughing. She’s different. Not weird, but different.

  “Let’s swim,” Sticks says to someone.

  He picks someone up, ignoring her squealing cries of mock protest, and then he launches her into the pool. I only notice from my peripheral because I’m busy watching someone else.

  Britt’s eyes raise, and an amused, childlike grin spreads as she watches them.

  I’m half curious if someone is watching me watch Britt to complete the circle of spectators.

  Taylor grabs up another girl, and she giggles uncontrollably on their way to mimic the same action. Britt’s eyes light up again with excitement, and I can’t seem to look away. Until...

  “Get your wet arm off me,” I grumble to the girl I don’t want touching me.

  She rolls her eyes, annoyed, but she doesn’t move. “You’re normally more fun.”

  A sound draws my attention back to Britt, and my grin spreads when I realize that sound is her laugh. She’s tuned everything else out as she watches the fun going on around her.

  I stand up, going unnoticed by her as I finally see my opportunity to escape. I walk around behind Britt, smirking as she remains unaware, and I scoop her up from the chair.

  She makes a small sound of amusement, but there’s no loud scream.

  “What are you doing?” she chuckles, making my smile only grow.

  “I’ve never been much of a spectator,” I say before moving at a decent speed and leaping out to the center of the pool, keeping her strapped to me.

  A slight squeal escapes her lips seconds before we slap the water.

  Once submerged, her body wiggles free and tangles around me, making me almost groan when one of her legs comes to rest between both of mine, pressing against the unprovoked erection I have.

  I really don’t want to get slapped for something I seriously can’t help right now.

  I hold onto her and push against the bottom of the pool to launch us upward. The second we surface, I’m rewarded with the laugh again.

  It’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen from her.

  She clings to my neck with one hand while wiping water out of her face with the other.

  Ah, hell. Her dress is soaked, making life harder.

  Wet’s a good look on her. How fucking long has it been since I had sex? I really thought I was more evolved than this, damn it.

  It takes more strength than I care to admit to remember she doesn’t like guys. Though, technically, she hasn’t stated it definitively.

  “You okay?” she asks, drawing my eyes back up.

  Nope. In deflection, I playfully dunk her, but her legs tighten around me, and I jerk her right back up, greeted by her laughter once more.

  I have to stop. I won’t be able to walk if I get any harder. Not to mention, this could get awkward real damn fast if she notices.

  I start to separate, but her body presses against mine as though she doesn’t want to be let go. Taylor’s jackass self comes and rips her away from me, picking her up high over his head, and making her laugh a helluva lot l
ouder.

  Fucker.

  He drops her into the water, and I hear the telltale sound of fabric ripping.

  She quickly surfaces, still laughing, and I frown when I see the strap on her dress has been ripped.

  “You ripped her dress,” Sticks points out.

  He shrugs. “I’ll buy her a new one.”

  “It’s fine. I have more,” Britt says, still grinning.

  Taylor grins, seeming a little too enamored by her. I glare at him until his eyes widen toward the girl I’ve looked away from. I cut my eyes back just in time to see Britt tossing her dress poolside.

  Lace...so much sexy lace. Girls don’t wear shit like that unless they’re wearing it for someone.

  Her bra is red lace with black trim, her panties are those that are just the right amount of material. Not a thong, but not fully covering her ass... fuck me.

  Guess I’m hiding in the pool for a bit longer.

  “She’s gay,” I murmur to Taylor, finding it necessary to shatter whatever delusional things he has going on in his head.

  “I’ll turn her,” he says as though it’s become his new life’s mission.

  “They always turn back, man,” Randy says as though he’s being entirely serious as he claps Taylor’s shoulder.

  “I was joking, you idiot,” Taylor says as he gives Randy a disbelieving look.

  Randy bristles. “Y-yeah. I know. I was doing the anti-PC comedian thing too,” Randy defends.

  Rolling my eyes, I start to tell them they’re both idiots, when I feel hands on my shoulders, feet pressing against the inside-bends of my knees, and I’m being dunked under the water. I shoot back up to choke down some air, and I’m met with that even louder laughter. Britt’s hand is over her mouth as she tries to smother it, almost looking horrified when I cough a little water up.

  “Sorry,” she says when she manages to swallow the rest of her laughter.

  “My turn,” I say as I dive for her.

  She yelps and starts trying to swim away, but I catch her quickly. She stops trying to get away and abruptly turns to wrap herself around me.