The Best and Worst Birthday

Last night the club had practically been ablaze. The spread in the newspaper the week prior had ensured that the 'hottest club in town' would definitely be at maximum capacity for the rest of the month. With all the new trends and recent fascination with all things retro, The Hive was a welcomed addition. Taking a cue from the roaring twenties, the club was a fresh jazz scene with all the specs to accommodate a lounge, bar, and dance floor. The thrown back atmosphere had some serious allure and the trip back in time had proven to be an interesting experience for everyone.

Working at The Hive had some serious advantages, but the extremely late nights were not one of them. Reed had stumbled into his apartment around four that morning, dead set on sleeping until he had to suit up for his next shift tonight. He was one of two upright bass players that belonged to the club, and since the other bass player was currently on his honey moon, Reed was a permanent fixture on the stage.

He had dove into a deep, much needed slumber, and it was around ten when his phone started buzzing on his nightstand. Disgruntled and barely aware, Reed unhappily rolled over to curse the person texting him. He picked up the phone and frowned when the number wasn't recognized as one he'd already saved in him contacts. Rubbing his eyes, he opened the message.

"Hey Stacy, it's Dylan. Text me back!"

Reed grunted and sunk back into bed with his phone in his hands. It was obviously a wrong number. "Sorry, dude. No Stacy here," he typed it quickly and hit send just before his head lulled back into sleep.

A minute later, he was awoken again by another text. "I'm so sorry! My stupid fat fingers can't punch out the right numbers."

Reed read the message and tossed the phone on the other side of the pillow without even replying. He assumed it was a hook up gone wrong from the night prior. The thought of some poor schmuck getting the wrong digits from a lady and then not having the balls to own up to it was funny, but he was tired. Reed fell back asleep with a smile, thinking it was nice not to be the only one who had fallen victim to a nice pair of legs and a plump set of lips.

His phone lit up five minutes later and he was aggravated this time. He reached across the bed, adamant on telling this dude that the girl obviously wasn't interested and that she had made up the digits. The message read, "So I'm in a bind and my friend isn't answering her phone, but you answered your message right away...Can I get your opinion on a dress?"

Reed scrunched up his nose and neglected to use any propriety when responding. "Listen man, If your girl isn't answering that's one thing, but you can't ask a complete stranger to help you pick out your evening wear. Now please leave me out of your drama."

He had only a moment to huff at his phone before the next message flew in. "Well I'm sorry I inconvenienced you, sir. I hadn't meant to be a bother." Reed read the message and something just didn't feel right. This didn't sound like your average guy, but before he could come to any conclusions, another message came in. "And for the record, not a dude. I was just named after my grandfather, you trout."

Erupting with laughter, Reed sat up on his bed, awake and suddenly very interested in the lady with whom he'd been conversing with. His amusement was prominent as he constructed his next text. This woman could be anyone, any age, anywhere in the county, but she called him a fish and he couldn't ignore that.

"Trout, huh?... Ok. Show me the dress."

***** Dylan was standing in the dressing room of the boutique as anxious as could be. A lot depended on this dress and she felt she really needed an outside opinion. She did not have time to be dealing with someone so obstinate, but he was the only person who was answering texts with the speed she needed. Deciding a man's opinion wouldn't be such a bad idea at a time like this, she went against her better judgment and kept texting him.

She took a picture of her reflection in the dressing room mirror wearing the first dress and then one of the second. Her boyfriend had mentioned going to a themed club earlier and she wanted to look the part, but deciding which dress was proving to be more difficult than she thought. The first dress was a straight cut black number with fringe making up the difference between the bottom portion of her thigh and her knee. The dress definitely fit with the flapper girl theme, but it wasn't quite to sultry, sexy image the second dress was. The second dress was a figure hugging, satin scarlet temptation. The second dress cut deep into her cleavage and emphasize her hourglass figure. It was very attractive, but it was more of sitting pretty dress than a dancing, having fun dress.

Dylan waited a few tortuous moments, tapping her fingers nervously on the back of her phone, before his message came in. "God damn, woman! The red one, definitely the red one." She smiled back at the phone enjoying the reaction she'd gotten out of this guy. "What's the occasion sweetheart, and do you need a date?" the second message made her outright laugh.

She grabbed the dress and started up to the register. If she could elicit that kind of response from a complete stranger, than she could live with not dancing tonight. She entertained her knew friend while in the checkout line, questioning his opinion. "That good, huh?" she asked.

"Lady, I have no reason to lie to a stranger so believe me when I say that dress was made for you. You look fantastic and I'm serious about the escort offer by the way."

Dylan flushed pink under the adoration of her new friend. "My boyfriend is taking me out for my birthday tonight, so no thank you. Your opinion and the compliments are very much appreciated, though." She stood in line thinking men were such funny creatures. They could say the most hurtful things at the drop of a dime, but then they could say things that could just melt your heart right down into your toes.

"Well, fine then. You have my number though," the stranger responded. Although she didn't know who it was that she was texting, she had fun imaging the disappointed smile on his face. It had been a while since she had flirted with a man, and with the comfort of anonymity over the texts, the whole ordeal was rather fun.

Tonight was about her and Brian, though. It was her birthday and she was hoping that this night would be a turning point for their relationship. They'd been fighting as of late and he'd been working extra hours, so there wasn't much conversing they did outside of the arguing. Dylan was overwhelmed with the feeling that she couldn't keep his attention. She prayed that tonight would be just the fix they needed to get through this rough patch. They could drink, chat, and she would be more than willing to continue the fun once at home.

Dylan paid for the dress and walked out the door with a new spring in her step. The dress would be such a help with her mission tonight. Brian would be putty in her hands the moment he saw her curves wrapped in the tight satin. He would forget that he'd ever been mad at her and they could continue being happily ever after again.

*****

After seeing her in the stupid dress, it was hard to think of anything else. Reed had been expecting to have some insecure teenager or an older gal present herself in the pictures, but Dylan was such a pleasant surprise. She was a woman, a healthy, solid woman. Even with the unforgivingly stark light in the dressing room, she seemed to radiate sex appeal.

It's fair enough to say that Reed had a type. He liked women that had a little meat on them, women who looked as though they could handle being roughed up a bit. He tended to entertain more brunettes and he also really like woman who were well versed in the art of flirtation. Needless to say, Reed felt as though Dylan was met all these requirements and then some. She even had the best pair of blowjob lips that Reed had ever seen and his mind was reeling. They were plump and curved just right, with a dark natural hue to them. Reed was obviously interested.

It had been easy for him to fall back asleep with images of her swimming in his head. Oh the things he could do with a woman like that. Images of her soft brown hair tussled over his bedspread plagued his mind. Although he could only speculate, he was pretty sure those hips of hers could be used like handles, allowing him to pull and push her anywhere he'd like. There was cleavage, too. Cleavage a man could get wonderfully lost in.

He sighed rolling over. All his time at the club hadn't really given him time to explore the dating scene. In fact, the club had been the reason that his last girlfriend had broken up with him. He had invested so much time into his work that he had little left to afford a girlfriend. Reed wasn't exactly you're a-typical hunk either. His years of putting the gym off for long practice room sessions had made competing with other men a challenge.

The idea was lovely, though. A lady like Dylan might be able to understand. Those green eyes had looked kind enough. If nothing else, Reed found it fun to pretend that she'd be busting through the doors anytime now, shedding herself of that ruby red dress and slithering up next to him in bed. She definitely looked like she'd be the type of lady he wouldn't want to take his hands off of and that was exciting.

Reed spent the rest of the day aimlessly thinking about his strange new friend. She was taken, yes, but it wasn't as though she would find out that he had wasted most of his afternoon imagining his handprints all over that sweet ass of hers. She wouldn't know that he pondered what the duration and pitch of all her moans would be and how they would alter throughout a love making session, so what was the harm? Reed enjoying his thoughts and found getting ready for work that night easier than it had been in months.

By the time the clock had struck six, he'd donned his slacks and vest, rolled up his sleeves, and emptied his bass from the bed of his truck. It was a Saturday night so it was likely to be packed and the band would be playing what would seem like endless sets. Greeting his colleagues as he walked in, Reed took his seat off stage and began running through some tuning and warm ups.

"What's wrong with you, Reed? You've been smiling like a fool since you came in," the booming voice and slap on the back had awoken him from yet another daydream of Dylan. Jason, the trumpet player had started to laugh at how much he had startled Reed. "Whoa, I know that look. What's her name?"

Reed took a few minutes to explain what had happened earlier and show him the picture of the dame that had plagued his thoughts all day. '"I don't know, man. It's been a while since I even considered a lady friend and this Dylan just struck a chord with me. She looks nice."

Jason laughed again, shaking his head and knowing full well what Reed meant when he said nice. "Yeah, good luck getting that one out of your head." He waved a hand at Reed and walked away still laughing.

Reed took a moment to analyze the situation. He was being a little ridiculous and he knew that nothing would ever become of it, but it was just so much fun. He had been feeling lonely lately and it's hard looking at an attractive woman and not thinking about how she smells and tastes.

By the time the first set was due to begin, Reed had moved most of his fairy tales out of his mind. It was time to work and he took his place on stage as the announcer called each member out. He picked up his bass like he'd done every other night and plucked away. Music really was his passion and he was fortunate to have a job where every day was enjoyable. He worked with a good group of musicians and each night seemed more like a jam session than a work day.

Reed looked up for a moment and began to relish the looks of the club. It was like something right out a movie. The bar etched the left side of the room and there was a lounge to the left filled with gold, velvet furniture, and deep cherry wood. The dance floor below the stage was all cream and gold, giving plenty of room for any number of dances anyone may dare. The Hive was a bright and elegant looking place that gave air to sophistication and fun. Reed had always thought it was comfortable and considered himself lucky to be a part of it.

While scanning the room, enjoying the sight of bobbing heads and tapping feet, he noticed a dress of scarlet satin dipping in and out of the crowd. "No way," he thought to himself, suddenly urgent in trying to catch a glimpse of the face that belonged to those hips and heels. With a martini in hand, she found a table towards the dance floor and took a seat to watch the band play. Reed was absolutely flabbergasted. There Dylan was, watching him and the band, not a clue as to who he was.

The first set of songs ended and the band took a break, letting the house speakers provide the noise in the club for a while. Reed practically ran off stage to the back door that led out to the dance floor. The thought of her being taken had crossed his mind, but this was too good to pass up. Even if he were to just waltz by and catch a whiff of whatever perfume she was wearing, it would be worth it. He took a moment to pause and regain his composure, straightening his vest and wiping away the nervous sweat that had started forming on his brow.

He tried as hard as he could to look away, to stay casual, to not draw any attention to himself, but it was hard. It was especially hard as he got close to her and could see the worry strewn across her pretty little face. Her glass was half empty and she was typing out a text. He slowly made his way towards the bar, noting each time she'd peer up above the throng of people, obviously looking for her boyfriend. Reed fought back the urge to introduce himself and wait with her while he could. He'd do just about anything to see if he could get those lips to curve into a smile.

*****

Dylan angrily typed the fifth text out to her boyfriend. He was an hour late and she had spent that hour getting hit on by jackasses, stared out by losers, and judged by every other girl that passed her way. Yes the dress looked amazing, but looking that good while alone was asking for trouble. She'd be fine if her ass of a boyfriend would just show up.

She hit send and waited to see if this message would be the one that actually got through. At least The Hive was awesome. The ambiance of it all made her feel like she was an old time movie star enjoying the after party of her newest blockbuster. The band had been amazing, too. Each member dressed in matching vests and trousers, all of them making their instruments sing beneath their fingertips and coaxing the crowd into a state of awe.

Dylan noticed the bass player from the band had eased out the stage door and made his way towards the bar. With the outfits, he was easy to recognize. He was also the most intriguing one of the bunch. Sure, the trumpet player was downright gorgeous and the drummer had a happy-go-lucky air about him that was attractive, but the bassist was something different. He seemed like the diamond in the rough and it made her quite curious. He had a thinner build and looked a little nerdy, but she couldn't help but wonder what a set of hands like that would feel like across the surface of her skin.

Lost in her train of thought, the buzzing of her phone startled Dylan. She calmed the device, noticing that it was her boyfriend, and started to speak amongst the noise. "Brain? Where are you, babe? I've been waiting over an hour."

Her boyfriend sighed into the phone. "Dylan, I'm not going to be there tonight and I know it's kind of unfair for me to do this to you now, but I've found someone else."

The sudden surge of emotions that racked through her upon hearing those words left her speechlessly listening to all the bullshit that her ex gabbed on about. He had mentioned being in love with her at first, but not really feeling free. Apparently he had moved out that afternoon while she was at work, leaving the apartment that had been hers to begin with, free from any evidence of a man ever being there. Before she knew it, he had hung up on her, leaving her cheeks stained with tears.

"He's not coming is he?" a voice from behind her hummed. "What did he do to you, sweetheart?"

She whipped her head around to see the bass player from the band standing beside her. Concern plagued his face and for some reason she trusted him. Really, she felt sick to her stomach and any comfort that could be found would be welcome. She leaned towards him, testing his reaction, and he didn't miss a beat. He carefully took her in his arms and held her tightly, anchoring her to him while she rode out the waves of emotions. Dylan tried hard not to cry, but it was too much.

At first he had let her weep, somehow knowing that she needed to get it all out. After a while though, he led her back through the same stage door he had come out of and into a dressing room. There was an old, but welcoming couch that he sat her upon as he left to fetch some tissues and a glass of water. No sooner than the tissue box was in her hand, she was back in his arms.

Dylan choked back a wave of tears and swallowed, trying to regain use of her voice and throat. "Who are you?" she asked, timidly waiting for him to say the worst.

He laughed, letting her go so she could get a good look at him. "Well my name is Reed, but I think you had called me a trout earlier." The look of shock on her face was too much for him to handle and his low, rumbling laugh echoed in her ears. "I didn't plan any of this, I swear. It was all a coincidence."

"This is crazy," she gasped, appraising every inch of Reed that she could. She hadn't given much thought as to what he would look like while they were texting before, but he seemed just perfect. He was quite a bit taller than her and although a bit on the slender side, the arms that had been wrapped around her were firm with toned muscle. The glasses and tussled black hair made him look a bit nerdy, but there was a distinctive masculine quality about him that she immediately found intriguing.

"Tell me about it," Reed laughed, rubbing her shoulder in a friendly manner before leaning back on the couch. He sat in his new position, able to see most of her form now that there was a little space between them. Seeing those eyes swollen with tears and those lips trembling ever so slightly nearly killed him. "Listen, I have another set to play soon, but you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like. In fact," he paused, trying to hide the slightest blush. "I wish you would. I'd love to talk to you more."

Dylan carefully mopped up her tears with a tissue and nodded. "I'd like that. I think I need to not be alone and as weird as it is to say it, we're kind of friends right?" She tried a smile, but the effort nearly toppled her over into another spurt of crying.

Even though Reed wasn't really the manliest looking guy out there, he prided himself in being able to uphold most of the gender roles required of him. At the moment, there was a beautiful woman in clear distress, wanting to spend time with him. Reed was a sucker. He had come to the conclusion that anything she needed of him, he'd do, no questions asked. "Absolutely," he answered, a wry smile strewn about his lips. "Just let me know what you need and it's yours."

Dylan looked into those hazel eyes of his and knew he was telling the truth. She sighed, relieved that at least one man in her life wanted to take care of her. Closing her eyes to regain some composure, she felt his lips on her forehead. It was the kind of kiss given to someone who just really needs some sympathy and the gesture was precious to her. She looked up to meet his eyes and rewarded him a smile before he left.