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Authors: Anne Leigh

BOOK: Love Unexpected
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Sports talk meant endless stats, bragging, and bets. They were all hedging their bets on who this year’s basketball champs was going to be, when John came back with a grin.

 

“Just got to say, dude,” He was obviously talking to me, “Those chicks are Grade A.”

 

Grade A meant they were super-hot in looks and personality. Grade B chicks were super-hot, somewhat cool personality. Grade C meant they had great personality, somewhat hot. Grade D: you didn’t even want to go there.

 

He continued, “The redhead is off the charts! Whew!” John was still looking at me. He was waiting for me to comment. I knew what he was doing; he was trying to get a feel on who I was interested in at that table.

 

She was definitely
NOT
the redhead. Not that there was anything wrong with the redhead.

 

“Are those ladies going to the club with us?” Xavier asked.

 

“Nah, they’re busy. Their boyfriends are picking them up after, so, no go,” John replied. He grabbed his beer and sat.

 

I heard what he said. I found myself asking, “All of them have boyfriends?” as my drink made its way down through my throat.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“How did you get her to tell you she has a boyfriend?” I could not help it. Just my luck, a girl who managed to catch me speechless, had a boyfriend. A girl like her, though, had to have a boyfriend. There was no way she was single.

 

“Who?” John looked at me, eyebrows raised. Xavier, Dom, and Jackson were all looking at me too. What the hell? Was this some girly meeting where everyone was freakin’ curious about everything I did tonight?

 

I took a gulp, here it goes, “The violet-eyed girl.”

 

John guffawed. “Man, how did I know she was the one you’re clamming up for? You don’t even know her name yet and you’re pussy whipped already!”

 

“Just how hot is she?” Xavier asked, “To have my man Z, sweaty, buying wine and shit, and asking girly-girl questions?” I guessed John was not the only one who heard me asking the server about the wine.

 

Way to go, Zander.

 

John answered, “She looks like an angel, man.”

 

Exactly.

 

Air rushed out of my lungs. Did John have the hots for her too? He was not a bad-looking dude. As a matter of fact, he rivaled Xavier with the collection of girls that he hooked up with.

 

I clenched my jaw. Dom piped in, “A hot angel, a bad angel, a dirty angel?”

 

“Definitely, a hot angel,” John said.

 

I clenched my jaw tighter.

 

My glass pinged on the table.

 

“Yeah, I could see why Z would check her out. Her eyes draw you in. She’s sassy, man.” He said, grinning.

 

I wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

 

“You owe me, man.” John still had the smug grin on his face.

 

 

“Owe you? For what, dude?” I asked. What
was he talking about? He was the one who almost tripped on the bar stool trying to get ahead of me in walking to her table.

 

“No, you really owe me. As in, if you freakin’ do the tango and shit with her, you remember you owe me.”

 

“I don’t owe you shit, dude. Whatever. She has a man so she’s untouchable.” I may have been a serial dater, but I never dated another man’s woman.

 

“Nah, she got no man,” John said airily.

 

My head swiveled to John.

 

“They’re hanging out with us, after this. Who can resist my charms?” I wanted to make him eat shit for making me think she was involved. He can be a Grade-A asshole at times, but he got the job done. On and off the field.

 

Miss Violet Eyes wasn’t answered for. Good news.

 

Sedona

 

The air that greeted us outside the restaurant was slightly chilly. The breeze was cool and since I didn’t bring a jacket, I felt the cool air all over my body.

 

I
was lightly massaging my arms with my own hands to warm up, as John introduced us to his friends.

 

Just as I was born with the talent of memorizing mathematical equations, I also had a talent for remembering names. Xavier was the dark-haired, lanky guy with the ‘Pardon me for being HOT’ shirt; Jackson was the African-American guy with light green, penetrating eyes; Dom was the beefy guy with a ‘Don’t Mess with Me’ air about him. And, Zander, oh boy, Zander was Mr. Brick Wall!

 

We didn’t shake hands with the guys. When John was introducing us, us girls nodded our heads towards them. The guys smiled widely at us.

 

Zander, however, reached out his hand when John said, “Sedona, this is my friend, Z.”

 

Mr. Brick Wall’s eyes as he spoke, “I’m Zander. You have a very nice name, Sedona.”

 

I felt a spark of electricity go through my body. The way my name rolled off his tongue coupled with the intense heat radiating off his eyes, made my toes curl and my throat, a bit parched. He held my hand in what must have been 3 times longer than normal. 

 

Nalee and Tanya started clearing their throats. I slowly pulled my hand away from his. The girls thanked Zander for the wine. I gave him a small smile and agreed with Tanya as she complimented Zander on his excellent choice. 

 

“Let’s go, people! Times-a-wasting, drinks-a-wasting!” chimed Xavier.

 

To which Tanya replied, “Well, lead the way. You guys know where it’s at.”

 

The guys led the way. Well, most of the guys. Nalee, a fast walker, walked with Xavier and Dom. Tanya with John and Jackson. I could hear the chatter of their conversations

 

So here we were, walking in tandems, on the way to the club. My nerves were frazzled; my body shivered.
Must be the cold air outside.
Nah, I grew up in this weather. A bit of nippy weather didn’t make me shiver. It was HIM. He made me shiver.

 

When he got close to me, I smelled his musky scent and my mouth started to water. It was a scene straight out of my Chemistry textbook, “
Charles' Law: At constant pressure, the volume of a confined gas is directly proportional to the absolute temperature.

 

He was confining me into his bubble of hotness; therefore, my body temperature was directly proportional to his heat so the increase in temperature caused my insides to sweat and salivate at the same time.

 

When he glanced at me, I saw his heated look and my insides started to melt.

 

He sidled up next to me, hands in his pocket. He looked like he was trying to restrain himself from doing something. 

 

“You cold?” I asked.

 

“Nah,” he stared at me.

 

“Hmm.”

 

“Why do you ask?”

 

“Your hands are in your pocket. It’s a bit chilly. I put two and two together and I think you’re cold.” That didn’t take much brain cells to explain.

 

“Nah, I run hot.” Oh yes, he did. Literally. He was slowly expanding me into a combustible matter.

 


Oh.” I managed to say.

 

“You cold?” He asked back.

 

“Why?”

 

“Well, you keep rubbing your hands and arms together…”

 

“Kinda,” I admitted.

 

He slid closer and asked,
“Can I warm you up?” His voice came out hoarse. 

 

It was 65 degrees outside, but inside I felt like I was having a high-grade fever. I was literally burning up.

 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I shook my head and stared up ahead. I saw the glittering lights of the restaurants and bars as we passed them by.

 

“Yeah? Why not?” his eyes shifted.

 

Nalee showed up at my side and started chatting away. This girl was hyperactive. No other way to describe her. She reminded me of Kieran on caffeine. She fired up the questions.

 

“How long has the club been around?”

 

Zander replied, “2 years.”

             

“Do you and your friends come here a lot?”

 

“They do.
I go with them sometimes. Sometimes, I’m just too tired from football or classes,” Zander said.

 

So he was a football player? Oh no, football players were bad news. They were jocks. I was tired of jocks. I remained quiet, but Zander knew that I was listening to his answers. His eyes flicked back and forth between Nalee and I.

 

Nalee asked, “Are all of your friends football players?”

 

Nalee looked at me for a quick second. She was probably telling me to ignore his status as a football player and to give him a chance. There was no way I was getting involved with another jock so I pretended not to have noticed her quick glance.

 

Zander stated, “Not all. Xavier plays lacrosse. The rest of us play football.”

 

I bit my lower lip. It was just too bad. Zander looked like a great guy. I was definitely not looking to get involved with another jock/athlete or any guy at this point. No matter how much that guy made my insides melt or made my breath hitch.

Chapter Three

 

“The past has passed. Learn your lessons and leave it there.”

 

Sedona

 

The club was not located next door to the restaurant. As a matter of fact, it was probably a half a mile away from Green’s. The neon sign above the club, ‘Next Door’, meant that I should have not taken John’s words literally.
My feet were killing me. When we got there, we saw the long line of men and women, all waiting to get in. I looked over to Zander and his friends.

 

Zander came up to us and said, “Can you guys just wait here? Let me talk to Dave.”

 

I thought Zander was going to talk one of the security personnel manning the line. He stepped to the side of the building and talked on his cell phone.

 

It was a bit rude but I couldn’t help it. My stare was glued to the doorman. His bulging and flexing biceps caught my eye. He was a very big man, with super huge muscles. I giggled when I saw his nametag, “Duffy.” He SO did not look like his name.

 

Tanya and Nalee were still talking to the guys. Unlike me, my girlfriends were charming and friendly. They could outtalk and outchat almost anyone.

 

I, on the other hand, had a hard time initiating conversations with people, especially, guys, whom I’ve only met an hour ago. So there I was, standing on the side, listening to my girlfriends talk about random things while the guys responded to their laughs and jokes.

 

It seemed that Zander was done talking with Dave; Duffy was now walking beside him.

 

“Ladies, let me lead the way,” Duffy said. His name really cracked me up.

 

Duffy led us inside the club. We bypassed the long lines and women were eyeing us with daggers and envious looks. We were greeted by provocatively clad women at the door. Zander and his friends casually waved at the women.

 

I was entranced by the club’s interior. The place looked like a nightclub with the dancing platforms scattered across the dance floors. But it also had a feel of sophistication, not sleaziness. I scanned the room. The club spanned 4000 square feet. The main lounge was lit up in illuminating colors. Chairs, in all shapes and sizes, with deep purple and red undertones, lined up the walls. A large crowd of scantily clad women and casually clad men were pumping to the latest dance music.

 

Duffy led us to an elevated area, lined with ancient-looking statues and mirrored walls, plush leather seats, surrounding a glass table.  

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