Every Little Dream (Second Chances) (3 page)

By the time I enter The Salty Dog I’m shaking. I wobble straight to the bar and slap a few dollars on the counter. “A cold one.”
 

The bartender gives me a strange look, then pours beer straight from the tap into an iced glass. I gulp it down, trying to calm the fear stirring up in my gut, telling me this is crazy stupid and I should walk away. Now!

While sipping casually, I gather up the courage to face the room. The music has a sultry beat that I feel deep down in my gut, inviting me to dance. The lack of light hides distinct features on anyone, so there’s only clothing and hair to go by. Most are laughing and drinking at tables. One guy punches his friend and I can’t tell if they’re about to break out in a fight or not.
 

The weight of a stare causes a shiver down my back. I hunt down my quiet observer until I find him sitting at a table across the room. He’s with friends but he’s not paying attention. Every once in a while he comments as if he’s a part of their conversation but his eyes stay on me. His dark hair looks like he needs a good old-fashioned haircut. My gaze travels to his dark eyes, hidden by the low lighting, to his lips then to his tight-fitting tee. Hmm. He might be a good candidate. I turn around. Isn’t this how it’s done? Act like I’m not interested? Play it cool.

The door bursts open and the atmosphere in the bar changes immediately. A group of guys waltz in like they own the place. Everyone looks away, suddenly interested in their friends and their drinks. I see the flash of blond hair. I know exactly who it is and why everyone turned away. I’m not the only one who knows this guy is a complete jerk.
 

I trace my fingers up and down my glass. My legs bounce, wanting to run, slip out the back entrance, but that might draw attention to myself. Every second that passes, my breathing deepens and my nerves calm down. He’s probably completely forgotten about the girl from the sidewalk.

A hand snakes around my front, causing me to jostle the almost-empty drink. My head is slightly buzzing, the room a little tipsy and I’m not sure I like the feeling. I squirm away but his grip tightens.

His words are hot on my ear and he sucks on my ear lobe. “What a coincidence, you and me ending up here. I think it’s fate.” With a strong grip on my arm, he pulls me off the barstool. I tense and try to yank away but I can’t as he drags me to the dance floor.
 

“You need to play nice, like a good girl.” His knuckles trace my cheek. “I’d hate to see this pretty face of yours messed up.” His hands wander up and down my body as he sways in front of me under the pretense of dancing.
 

I’m like a board, unmoving. Any remaining buzz translates into fear but his threatening words surround me, making it impossible for me to move. When his hand grazes my butt, I instinctively kick out. My toe connects with his shin.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes, a dark, fathomless pit of hatred, pierce mine. His fingers clench at his side and I know I’ve gone too far.

Then someone is next to me. An arm drapes over my shoulder. The tingly smell of pine soap is on the guy attached to the arm. “What’s up, babe? You took long enough to get here. I’ve been waiting.” He lightly kisses my cheek. I stiffen until I catch a look at his dark eyes and hair. It’s the guy watching me just seconds ago. “Play along,” he whispers.

“Sorry about that,” I stammer. “I was just having a drink first.”

The tension in the room skyrockets as they stand face to face. Two guys at the edge of losing it. They don’t say words as they stare each other down. The beefy bartender appears next to us.

“Is there a problem, miss?” He doesn’t wait for an answer but addresses the guy with blond hair. “You need to leave. I don’t want to see you in here again.”

The guy laughs, while his eyes give me a completely different message. “Gotcha. Just stopping by to see a lady friend.”

“I’m not your lady friend.” My words spit out from between clenched teeth.
 

He trails his hand down my arm. “Catch ya later, sweetheart.” Then he and his friends leave. Moments later their car screeches from the parking lot.

I’m a quivering mess, ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. I’m out of my comfort zone and wondering if my attempt at adventure was totally off.
 

His hand slips into mine and he leads me back over to the bar. I let him, knowing he’s safe, sensing that behind his tough looks is a good heart. He orders a beer and pushes it into my hands. The icy cold outside feels good and I take a few large gulps while glancing at him for the first time up close. Except the beer goes down the wrong way and I spit it out.
 

“Hey!” He steps back.
 

Oh my gosh. It’s the guy from the other night. The one I kissed in a moment of crazy inspiration. The one who called me beautiful. There’s a dark and steamy look in his eyes. Holy shit. Yes, it’s appropriate to swear here. I found the one and he came to my rescue after I rescued him. It’s a sign.

I grab a bunch of tiny napkins and start patting his shirt. “I’m so sorry.” His rock hard muscles tighten beneath my fingers. A curious feeling stirs in my lower stomach.

He chuckles. “If you wanted to feel my abs, all you had to do was ask.”

I stand with my mouth agape. Is this guy flirting with me? He doesn’t seem to recognize me or he’s forgotten. That means my disguise worked. Excitement builds. This is what I need. Someone to bring some excitement to my life.
 

I throw the napkins on the bar. “Wanna dance?”
 

“Are you sure you want to after that asshole?” he asks. “Maybe you should’ve brought a friend. Safety in numbers.”
 

I shrug. “Looks like I found a friend.” I don’t know how I managed it, but my voice sounds low and sexy.

He traces a finger down the side of my body, hitting every curve. I’ve never felt anything so erotic and we haven’t even danced. “I’ll dance with you.”

I push the rest of the beer away, not wanting to experience any more of the buzz that accompanies drinking. I slink onto the floor, assuming he’s following in my wake. His hands are hot on my waist by the time I reach the middle of the floor. I turn slowly, losing myself in the beat of the music. His hands gently feel my curves but in a slow, sexy way, not a demanding way. I don’t feel scared at all. Not like I did outside. Not like I did with the other guy.

I respond and sway into him. I swallow and let the slight buzz consume my good girl inhibitions. I gently caress his neck with my lips. That’s how I’ve seen it in the movies. His skin tastes so good and his scent pulls me in.
 

“What’s your name?” I murmur.

“Chad.”
 

“I’m Katie. Hmm. You taste good, Chad.”

He laughs. “Thanks.”
 

I pull away. Did I say something wrong? Is he laughing at me?

He yanks me back to him. “Where do you think you’re going? It’s only fair I get to taste you too.”
 

“Um, okay.” I feel the flush to my cheeks.
 

His lips find the pulse at my neck. Fireworks spread through my body. This isn’t what I expected. I didn’t expect to like it. What have I been missing out on all these years?

In my most daring move ever, I slide my hands under the back of his shirt. They tremble against his hot skin. Justine would absolutely die if she could see me. “Your skin is so soft. I like it.”
 

I try and choke back the words, but it’s too late. Chad chuckles again. Then he moves closer. “We can go back to my place.”

I nod. Suddenly terrified.

He leads me out. Is this a one-night stand? Will he expect me to sleep with him? My body betrays my fear. Who am I kidding? This is it. My chance. The cool ocean air feels good on my over-heated body. “Do you live far from here?”

“Na. I share a beach house with my roommate.” He turns around and catches me in a kiss. “But he should be gone for the night.”

I see a hint of something troubling in his eyes. It’s in his voice too. “I sense there’s more to that story.”

“There always is, right?”

“I guess so.”

He leads me to a motorcycle, different from the one he crashed the other night. “Let’s not focus on such uninteresting topics.”

I take in the smooth metal of the exhaust pipe and the seat meant for one. This is the perfect way to break my good girl image as much as it terrifies me.

“Have a problem with the bike?” A sudden mask drops across his face, like he’s waiting for my disapproval.

“Are you kidding? I love it!” I rush the last few steps and run my fingers over the smooth leather of the seat. This is so perfect for my night of naughtiness. I hop on the back. “Let’s go.”
 

It’s his turn to stand, watching me, his face revealing surprise. For a second, he reminds me of a little boy.
 

I lower the pitch of my voice to calm and cool. “I mean. Sure, I love bikes.” Reminder to self: Bad girls don’t act too excited about anything.

He swings his leg onto the bike in front of me. “This is a new bike and I’m still getting used to it, so hold on, honey.” He starts the engine and it roars beneath me.

The fact that this is new to him doesn’t make me feel any better. I tap his shoulder. “What about a helmet?” I yell.

He shrugs. “You’re more than welcome to get off, but I hope you don’t.”

He’s right. Bad girls wouldn’t care about helmets, right? Then I think about his crash the other night. I tap his shoulder again. “Um, have you had too much to drink?” I have no desire to fly through the air tonight without head protection.

He turns the motor off and with the fading of the vibrations against my leg I know I’ve gone too far. He’ll let me go. He’ll say goodbye. He climbs off the bike and the crashing in my chest drains my excitement. I shouldn’t care. There have to be other cute guys that ride motorcycles out there. For some reason I feel safe with this one. I want this one.

He cups my face with his hand. “I’ve had less to drink than you. I don’t drink much anymore. And I would never put you in danger. What? Are you my guardian angel?” he jokes.

I suck in a breath. It’s the second time he’s called me that. I don’t want him to remember but at the same time I do. He called me beautiful.

He grabs my pink hair and twirls it in his finger. He casually glances at my tight tank top. Disappointment flickers in his eyes. Oh my gosh, does he want me to be that girl? Was the bad girl a turn off?
 

He kisses my cheek. “You’ll never have to worry when you’re with me.” He climbs back on his back. “Time to fly.”

Chad

I push the speed, the wind cutting against my skin, and Katie’s body pressing against my back. I ride the corners low, taking pleasure in the tightening of her arms around my stomach and the stifled squeal in the back of my shirt. Just a moment ago, her wide eyes reminded me of the girl from the other night. It has to be my imagination. That girl would never pick up a guy in a bar and go back to his place for a possible one-night stand. What am I thinking? A girl like that would never go home with me. Would never want me. Would never see past my rep and my bike. And that’s how I’ve wanted it.

I pull into the gravel driveway of Jimmy’s beach house. I climb off and hold my hand out, expecting to see trembling fear, but instead, exhilaration paints her face. She attempts to climb off the bike but stumbles.

I chuckle. “Who had too much to drink?”

“Pfft. Not me. I had the one.” She holds up one finger then uses it hook the bottom of my shirt, pulling me toward the house. She trips up the rotting steps.

I watch her ass wiggle as she barely makes it through the doorway without hitting the frame. I brush off the slight confusion at the contradictions. She looks experienced yet she’s buzzing off one beer. She touched me like a pro but her eyes shine with innocence.
 

I shut the door behind me. “Want another drink?”

“Sure. I’ll get us one. In the fridge?” She bounces into the kitchen.
 

I block out images of schoolgirls playing hopscotch and skipping rope. Something about her touches something in me, my past, the part I’ve forgotten and pushed down. A time of innocence when I thought the world was a bright and shiny place and my dad still played catch with me in the backyard.

But, hey, she’s bringing me a beer in my own house. She can’t be that innocent. I could get used to this and settle into the couch, which I don’t usually sit on knowing what happens on it almost every day.

“What’re you doing?” she whispers in my ear and slides a hand down the front of my chest. “I changed my mind about the beer. Can I see your room?”
 

Her words come out breathless like she’s nervous. Or turned on. I don’t wait, but let her pull me back to my room. She enters Jimmy’s.
 

“Wrong one.”

She giggles then opens the door to the bathroom. “Oops.”

As soon as the door shuts to my room, she reaches up and touches her lips to mine like she has to quick get it out of the way. Then she pulls back after a light kiss. It feels nice. Her fingers touch the back of my neck. I’m used to girls throwing themselves at me, getting the deed done. They know how to get right to it, but this girl dances around the edges, teasing.

“Hey,” I say between kisses. “We don’t have to move so fast.” I laugh at myself because that’s what I usually want, just get it over with, in and out, and then say goodbye before a girl gets too comfortable and starts leaving her makeup in the bathroom. But this girl in front of me brings out other desires too just by her sweet smile and soft voice.

She pulls me toward the bed, a seductive but nervous look in her eyes. With one leap, her legs are around my waist and we fall back on the bed. She laughs as our lips break apart in the falling and landing. Then she rolls over and straddles me, her mini skirt hiking up around her waist.

“Are you sure you want this?” I can’t believe I’m even asking. A cute girl’s on top of me and I’m doubting her.