I lose interest when a guy walks up to her. The way he smiles tells me he must be her boyfriend. Whoever she is, she’s off limits. Shit. Her loss. I have
plenty of other pickings and don’t need complications like that. I turn my attention to the other prospective hook ups like the tanned brown-eyed brunette in the tight black dress that wiggles in between Luke and me at the bar. I shamelessly let my eyes travel down her dress and back up. She notices me, and smiles after ordering from the bartender.
“Hi.” She turns so that her perky breasts brush against my bicep. She bites her lip and grabs her drink from the bar. “Having fun?” Her gaze is intense. She has that look that tells me that if I told her to meet me later, we would fog up the windows of my truck in seconds. I like a girl who knows how to play the game.
Luke peeks over and puts down his beer, seeing the petite brunette with the hourglass figure standing next to me. She turns so that her back is up against the bar and waves over her friend, a petite blonde with long straight hair, wearing stiletto heels and a pink dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. Looks like this one is doing all of the work for us, which is okay by me.
“This is my friend Ava, and I’m Chloe,” she says, taking a sip of her drink. “We do everything together.” She smiles, placing her hand on her hip.
“Do you now?” Luke steps away from the bar, and directs his attention to the blonde, boldly taking her in from head to toe. She’s enjoying every second of the attention she’s getting and steps toward Luke. Luke is partial to blondes. Maybe it’s because he’s blonde and blue-eyed or maybe it’s just for tonight.
“Yes, we’re inseparable.” Ava bites her lip, and completely focuses on Luke.
“What are you gonna do, Luke?” I smile, raising my eyebrows.
He laughs, moving closer to the blonde and wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“What’s your pleasure?” He asks, running his finger down her arm.
“Want to?” She giggles, nodding over to the dance floor. He winks and nods at me as she pulls him into the crowded space. It’s a small price to pay to get some love.
“So, where were we?” I ask, turning my attention back to the Chloe.
She places her ruby red lips seductively on her straw and brazenly runs her eyes from my waist up to my chest. She looks like she wants to tear off my t-shirt and jeans right here, right now, but I like a little privacy.
“I think I asked if you were having fun yet,” she says, running her finger across her lips.
“Not yet.” I smile hard, thinking about where I’d like her lips to be.
“Well, I can think of some fun things we can do.” She smiles as she moves in a little closer.
“Oh, really?” I say, raising my eyebrows ready, willing, and more than able to play along. This is way too easy, but that’s how I like them. “What do you have in mind?”
“I like to be spontaneous. I think you’ll like that about me.” She audaciously caresses my arm, and the contact makes me think about leaving with her right now.
“Well, we have something in common.” I chuckle, feeling her hand travel up my arm as she wraps her juicy lips around her straw again. She leans against me and I pull her tight body against mine, feeling every curve underneath her tight dress. I grin, thinking to myself that these women up north are friendlier than I thought. Despite my usual tendencies, I decide I want to do things a little differently tonight, take my time for once. I need to mingle and make the rounds before I make a final decision. This is all a cat and mouse game, and it never gets old for me. I step away from her and scan the crowd, watching the lights cut across the floor. The place has gotten hot fast.
“Listen, I’m going to find my friend. I’ll be right back.” Maybe I feel bad leaving her. Not really. I want to check out what is out there.
“Fine.” She pouts when I look down at her. I laugh when I hear her say, “Your loss,” as I step away. If I came back for her, I doubt she would be angry. We’d just pick up where we left off. I finish my beer, set it on the bar, and move closer to the dance floor. I check out the mob, debating whom I want to take home tonight. A blonde? Redhead? Maybe I’ll take a risk and see who bumps into me. If she passes all my requirements, then I’ll make a move. If not, I’m back to square one.
“Excuse me!” I hear someone yell over the music. I don’t know if the words are for me or someone else, but I stop in my tracks to avoid a collision with whomever it is. Fortunately, this doesn’t happen, and I manage to catch perfection in my arms. The first thing that hits me is her scent. Vanilla. I love vanilla. Then it’s the feel of her silky smooth skin under my fingers, her long brown hair brushing against my arm and the fact that she’s wearing red. The funny thing about the color red is that it stands out by itself, but sometimes, the person wearing it can make the color pop even more, and that’s what this girl does. She overpowers it. Owns it. Then I realize that she’s the girl with the damn boyfriend.
“Sorry,” I say even though I’m not. I take my time, letting my eyes feast on her. She could be about five feet seven. Perfect height. Her almond shaped hazel eyes fall right below my shoulders and meet mine for a second before she shyly looks away. Wow, she’s fucking hot!
“That’s okay.” She blushes and gingerly pulls away, brushing her hair off her shoulder. Her eyes lock with mine for just a second. It is enough. I’m speechless for the first time. She smiles, turns, and slowly slips through the crowd, but not before I catch a glimpse of her body. She’s curvy where it matters; her skirt rides low on her hips, hugging her perfect ass. Those sexy tanned legs that go on and on are my undoing. She looks over her shoulder and catches me staring at her. Damn, I shouldn’t have done that. Yes, yes, I should have. She’s perfection, but I know better than to mess with anyone’s girlfriend. Refocusing, I get back to what I came here for.
Luke left with his blonde. Chloe disappeared, but that’s okay. I made my pick tonight, a tall redhead with green eyes wearing the tightest pair of black short-shorts that I’ve ever seen. I haven’t been with a redhead in a while, so I wanted to mix it up a little bit. She waves bye to her friends and grabs my arm, ready to take a ride in my Hummer. Who knows, we might not even make it to my apartment.
“Ready?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation to a minimum as we leave. She’s had a little bit to drink but not too much. I don’t like my picks to be drunk, but the right amount of alcohol makes them willing to lose their inhibitions and do most anything I ask and possibly even experiment a little bit.
She bites her lip and runs her fingers up my arm. “I was ready for you a long time ago,” she whispers in my ear, pressing her hip against mine.
“We’re gonna make up for lost time. Trust me.”
I grin, imagining what’s under her clothes. Black lace, maybe. Shit, if she’s wearing red, she’s really gonna be in fucking trouble.
“You’re my type of guy,” she says, grabbing my hand. “I want to make the most of every second with you,” she rasps, practically pulling me out the door. Aggressive, I like it.
We walk over to my Hummer. Just like me, it stands out. I unlock and open the door for her. I don’t even know her name, but that won’t slow us down. As the redhead settles in, I close the door and head around to the other side when I see
her
again.
My view is unrestricted before she gets into the car. I get to see all of her now, the long brown hair against her skin, the red silky top, and those legs. I step aside and pause before I open my door. As the car pulls out, she rolls down the window, letting the breeze catch her hair. Fuck.
She notices me watching her, and smiles as she pulls away. Then she’s gone. Wow. Did I mention she was perfection? I turn back to the redhead in my truck, thinking I should have gone with a brunette tonight. That brunette. But for tonight, the redhead will do.
“Elle!” My mom yells. “Where are you going?” Her heels click harshly on the marble floors as she runs to catch up with me. She and my stepdad had another fight, and I just want out.
“Honey,” she calls again.
I reluctantly stop, and turn to face her. She’s been crying again. Seeing her swollen, red eyes reminds me of what things were like before my parents divorced. They fought constantly and made our lives hell. Honestly, I was relieved when they finally realized they weren’t going to fix things and called it quits. I was twelve and Jace was nine when my parents finalized their divorce. History is repeating itself with mom and Corey.
“I’m going to meet Tyler,” I said. “I just can’t do this again with you and Corey. It was hard enough the first time.”
She shifts on her feet and pushes her chestnut hair away from her face, her hazel eyes never leaving mine. “Look, I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
I don’t let her finish her same old speech.
“‘I’m sorry’ is all you ever say. I’m so sick of sorry.” I reply, glancing over my shoulder to the street.
“Well, what do you want me to say?” Her tone switches from contrite to defensive in an instant.
“I have no idea, but sorry only works if you actually try to fix the problem.” I sigh, frustrated with the whole situation. “Look, I’m sorry if the fight was about me, but I’m twenty-two. If I want to stay out all night, then that is my choice.”
“No,” she dismisses my apology. “It’s not that; it’s a lot of things.”
That’s what scares me. A bunch of things is harder to fix than just one thing. I know based on what we experienced when my parents divorced after twelve years of marriage.
I see my dad occasionally. He lives one town over with his new wife. I know her as ‘the other woman’. I despise her for the simple fact that I believe if she hadn’t been in the picture, my dad would’ve tried harder to stay. I was devastated. I blame my father more than my mom. Sure, Mom worked long hours and was never around, but that’s no excuse for him to cheat. He didn’t want to try anymore, so he ran off with someone else and left our family behind. Jace doesn’t talk about him much, and I don’t even know when he last saw our dad or talked to him.
I couldn’t stomach the few times we spent together trying to do the stepfamily things; his wife tried too hard to win us over. The attempts at family time never felt right. I just couldn’t hang out with the person who had torn my family apart. I tried to for my dad because I loved him, but I realized that I didn’t want to be around them anymore. I felt hurt all the time, and I wanted to put distance between myself, and the unrelenting pain their relationship was causing me.
My mom was single for a few years before meeting Corey. She told me he could be
the one
. Five years later, looks like he’s not
the one.
The relationship moved too fast and after a year or so of dating, they got married. It shocked me because I could never really picture my mom with anyone but my dad.
I saw cracks in the marriage after a couple of years. I don’t know if my mom did and chose to ignore them, or if she honestly doesn’t see them. Corey snaps about everything. It pisses me off that he says anything, because he moved into our house. Then he has the nerve to spend the weekend holed up in his man cave with an unending supply of beer, watching ESPN, and doing nothing but complaining about shit. I don’t argue because I don’t want to go through it all over again, this time with a complete stranger who doesn’t give a shit about Jace and me. He’s a trespasser, a persistent rash in my life. He makes hating him easy.
“Let’s talk about it tonight at dinner.” Mom smiles softly, holding the door open with her hip
“I left something at the center,” I lie, anxious to leave.
I can’t take another awkward dinner at the table, pretending to be a normal happy family with Corey. It’s fake, so forced. Jace has an easier time with it. I’m not sure how he does it. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to see Mom hurt again, so he brushes away his own pain by pretending everything’s okay. I know the situation with Corey bothers him, even though he claims that it doesn’t. His patience and resolve amaze me.
“Okay. I’m cooking zucchini Parmesan.” She smiles. God, I love my mom, but I’m not sure if I’ll have the appetite tonight, not even for my favorite dish.