Embracing Everly (6 page)

Warm heated breath prickled my neck as I sipped on my tea at the cafe. “Hey there, Angel.”

I nearly jumped out of my seat just hearing that voice. “You again.” I took in his brown disheveled hair, his piercing green eyes, all the way down to his untied black boots. “I thought maybe the gun scared you away.” What the hell was he doing here?
Shit!
I barely dragged a comb through my hair before I left. I ran my fingers through trying to smooth out any knots. And, damn if he didn’t look even better in the light.

“A .38 Special doesn’t scare me, darling. You’ve got to pack more heat than that to fight me off.” He grinned and I swear my panties saturated in less than a second when his dimples popped out. Dimples I didn’t notice in the dark of the night.

Something was off with him, and my brain flashed a warning for the second time in his company. “What’s your name? How old are you? You don’t talk like college boys,” I blurted out in rapid succession trying to figure out why he was here all of a sudden.

“The name is Mick and I’m twenty-two. I’m just finishing up school. A few more credits than I am done, and maybe I’m just more mature than the company you’ve been keeping.”

“Mick what?”

“O’Malley.”

I held back a laugh. What kind of name was Mick for a man this hot? I expected something more like Jace, Storm, Cash—something sexy. “Is it short for Mickey, as in mouse?”

He smiled bigger and brighter than before like he knew it had the panty dropping effect on women that he wanted it to. “Not the mouse, just my grandfather. Irish family, right off the fucking boat.”

“Where’s your Irish accent?” I did detect some sort of accent, kind of harsh, but at the same time it appealed to me.

“Not me. My folks. Born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts.”

I chuckled, not meaning to, but I found it ironically funny.

“What’s so funny about Massachusetts?’

“It’s just rather cliché is all. Irish and Boston.”

“Even more cliché is that I actually come from the South side. Irish heaven.”

“Why are you here?”

He gestured to my mug. “I came here for the coffee. Can I get you a refill?”

I glanced down to see my tea was gone. I barely remembered finishing it since he walked in. “I didn’t mean here as in the coffee shop, I meant here in my life all of a sudden.”

He shrugged. “Go to school here, I told you. As far as in your life I wouldn’t go that far. We just keep running into one another.” He picked up my mug and peeked inside. “So, you want another or not?”

“Sure.” I gave in trying to make heads or tails of him. “The white peach tea with a teaspoon of honey would be great.”

This Mick O’Malley strode over to the counter, and every set of female eyes clung to him, well, more like to his well-defined ass. He wore a pair of Levi’s finer and lower than most men can pull off. His dark, semi-wavy hair had some soft curls at the nape of his neck that instantly had me wanting to run my fingers through them. I also noted a splattering of colored ink was peeking out when he leaned to the side to check out the pastry case.

As Mick walked back carrying his coffee and my tea, it took me a second to realize his eyes were completely, one hundred percent on me and no one else. Even though, Theresa, a stripper to fund her tuition to go to school here and was drop-dead gorgeous was being totally ignored by him.
Maybe he hasn’t seen her yet
? Every guy looked her way when she was in the room. It was like she had a beacon attached to her ass that only men could see. She was in one of my Sociology classes last year, and even the old, married professor had a difficult time teaching and keeping the drool at bay.

“White peach tea with a teaspoon of honey. And I thought maybe you’d like a muffin.” He placed a plate with a delicious looking blueberry muffin in front of me. I was tempted, but I refrained from taking a bite.

“Thank you, but I’m not hungry right now. You have it.”

He nodded but left it alone. “You mind if I join you?”

The sly grin on his face let me know my blushing cheeks were totally betraying me, and I hated how that always happened to me. “That’s the best pick up line you have?” I asked trying to pretend he didn’t affect me.

He eyes ensnared mine for a heated beat, but I forced them downward. “You’d know if I was trying to pick you up. I’m a lot more blunt and to the point.” He gestured to the seat still waiting for me to agree.

“Sure.”

He sat, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning toward me, panty- saturating-dimples on full display. “I’m not going to bite you know. Just thought since we’re new neighbors we can be friends. Maybe hang out sometime.”

“Hmm?” I looked down and played with my mug doing everything I could to not look into those insanely intense green eyes because they seemed to hold me in a small spell when I did. So he was my new neighbor? I knew it.

“You’re very cute when you blush, but you’re not my type,” he said like he was talking about something as boring as the weather, and all hope went down the drain. I knew I shouldn’t even be thinking of hope since I couldn’t have him anyway. I made the mistake of looking up and caught him checking my cleavage that had been on semi-display.

Oh, I see. I could play this little game. “Oh,” I leaned in. “Are you gay?” I whispered. “It’s okay to tell me.”

Mick choked on a sip of his coffee as I hid my laugh behind my mug. “Not on your life. I’m so far from gay…”

“That’s not very nice,” I snapped cutting him off from saying something that would completely turn me off of him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. To each their own ya know. I just don’t like dick. I like pussy.” He leaned in, his eyes blazed into mine, and I felt like he was sucking me into some weird vortex as he taunted me. “No, let me rephrase that last comment. I love pussy. I love to eat it, touch it, fuck it and anything else that might have to do with it.”

“Excuse me?” I gasped and choked on my tea; surprised I could even find my voice at his dirty remarks.
What the hell?
“Are you trying to shock me?” I was at a loss for words. It was hard to render me speechless, but he had. My mother always told me I had the gift of gab, but right now I couldn’t figure out if I was turned on or horribly repulsed by his admission. I crossed my legs, tightly trying to rein in the ache between my legs.
Shit, definitely turned on
.

“Sorry. My mouth… just forget I said that.” He nervously cleared his throat and drank his coffee before looking around. I saw his eyes had finally found her, aka Stripper Theresa since they grew larger than the saucer his cup sat on.

Curious and even though I knew it wasn’t my business, but unable to resist now that the cat was out of the bag so to speak. “So you’ve been with a lot of women? You sound like maybe you have.”

He settled back placing his arms behind his head, grinning. “A few in my day. The ladies can’t seem to resist my charm, and you?”

“I’ve never been with a woman,” I teased.

“Haha, funny, I meant men.”

A small giggle erupted as the shock on his face slipped away. “I know. Not nearly as experienced as you probably are. I can still count on one hand. I have a gut feeling you can’t say the same.”

“Angel, I can’t even count on two.” He broke the muffin in half and popped a piece into his mouth. The whole time smiling like he knew this powwow was going to move on to bigger and better things.

I couldn’t help but look away, feeling humiliated over our conversation as I sipped more tea, ignoring him with hopes he’d get the hint to go away.

“And here I thought I’d sit and have a nice chat with a beautiful woman over a cup of coffee and you turn it right into sex, which don’t get me wrong, it’s my favorite subject. Maybe I should give you a test run to see if that one hand crap is a lie because girls like you have men falling all over them.”

“What does that mean? I’m not some stupid slut you can just walk up to and expect me to drop my panties at that ridiculously arrogant smile.”

“First, my smile is not arrogant, it’s confident, extremely confident. Second,” he held up two of his fingers. “I didn’t take you for a slut, and third,” he leaned over his eyes stared into mine. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t seem to muster the small step to do so. “You should learn how to take a compliment. You’re beautiful, and that’s all I meant.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled. “Listen, I appreciate you coming over and buying me some tea, but I’m not looking for anyone. I have a boyfriend, so if we’re done here?”

“We’re far from done here, Angel and I know about that jockstrap you call a boyfriend.”

“Wait! What? How do you know about him?”

“I’m your new neighbor and I’ve got eyes and ears.” He mumbled the last word, which I didn’t catch. I thought of asking him to repeat, but what was the point?

“So it is you.” At first I played dumb when he brought it up, but now I couldn’t ignore it. “I saw you once leaving the apartment building.”

He grasped his chest like he was ready to faint. “I knew you cared. At least I have a pretty stalker.”

I laughed wholeheartedly at his tactics. “One,” I started, “you have a very big ego. Two,” I held up two fingers, mocking him from before. “I saw you by accident while looking for my boyfriend, and three,” I leaned in toward him. His eyes sparkled, as he seemed to be trying to figure me out, waiting for my next move. “Thanks for the muffin.” I sat back, smirking as I took the rest of his muffin, finishing it.

His eyes flicked toward the back where Theresa was sitting, and he stood just as she did. “I’ll see you around, neighbor. Next time it’s your treat.”

Well, that was interesting.
Achingly, I watched him run after her as she exited the door. Not wanting to watch but powerless to stop I continued to glance their way as he shot that same panty-soaking-smile he gave me a few minutes before in her direction. And just like I would’ve if I didn’t have a boyfriend, she fell for it. I turned away knowing the stripper was probably going to get the biggest tip of her life. And, I was still digging dollars out of a pickle jar to get by.

HER NAME WAS
Theresa and as luck would have it—a stripper. A fucking stripper who I had to take a rain check on for the day because as I was reeling her in, that ass wipe of a boyfriend of Angel’s caught my eye. And he was up to no good. I kept my distance, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out the shit he was up to. The money exchanged hands quickly, as did the drugs, and then they split up. It wasn’t my business. I kept telling myself that all day like it was on repeat. I was not a NARC. I was not a cop. I was simply a bounty hunter with very little rules. The ones I did follow were my own or handed to me by men with similar beliefs. But, Angel? I wondered if she knew or even engaged in that shit. Nah, I couldn’t see it.

I headed home for a shower and a bite to eat before I took off that night. Theresa made sure I knew she was on at ten and which club she worked at before we parted ways, and since I couldn’t have Angel, I wanted a piece of that tonight. Grabbing my keys, I barely had the door open when I heard them arguing. I stayed put breathless, waiting to hear the fallout of one of their stupid fights.

“Again? Jesus, Charlie you never have time for me anymore. If you don’t want a girlfriend man up and say so because I don’t have time for your stupid boy games.”

“Babe, I never said that. I just have plans with the guys tonight. I’ll swing by later after we get done with the pledges.”

“Don’t bother.” I didn’t see her, but I heard those damn come-and-fuck-me-stilettoes she liked to wear clicking across the tile floor. I sneaked a peek, cringing when I saw her dressed in a little sheer number with a sexy ass red bra showing underneath. One I’d love to unhook and get a look at what she had been graced with. She walked hastily down the steps, leaving him in the dust, and I couldn’t help but feel relieved that something was going right.

“Don’t be like that, Everly. I’ll see you later,” he screamed after her high-tailing it out of there, but she was already long gone. Douchebag!

Part of me wanted to go after her, comfort her or something, which was an odd enough feeling in itself, but I couldn’t. I shouldn’t have even made contact at that point. She would be in no danger, and honestly I didn’t think she ever would be. She was nothing if not a sweetheart. Who the hell would hurt her? Her voice alone when she sang could stop anyone in his or her tracks. I could only imagine what she would sound like in bed, moaning my name and the thought that I’d never find out irked the hell out of me. A bed I could never take her to even though I could’ve easily left the coffee shop with her. I knew the minute my smile took effect. She twisted her legs, clenched them together to keep from combusting in front of me. To her credit, she almost got away with it, but at the last second I caught it.

It was dark, and loud inside as I made my way inside Bottoms Up. Once at the bar, I ordered a beer and scanned the crowd looking for my sure thing for the night. It was then I noticed a familiar face in the crowd. Motherfucking asshole! Not only was her douchebag of a man here instead of at his frat, who no doubt is with him somewhere, he had a girl on his lap and she was no damn dancer. She was wearing jeans and a tight tank top, nipples hard as a rock with no bra, and she looked to be dry humping him like her life depended on it.