Poison Me Sweetly (6 page)

Suddenly, I need to get away from him.

Without a word to anyone, I deliberately move out of
Jeremy's arms and walk off into the crowd. The music dies down, and I hear the
band being introduced. A second later hard rock fills the room as I make my way
to the bar. Most of the crowd around it has dispersed, and when the bartender
looks at me expectantly, I order a shot of tequila.

While I wait, my eyes can't resist flickering back to
where our small group stands along the wall. They are all focused on the band
except for Jeremy. Instead of being focused on why we are here, his eyes are on
mine.

I instinctively look away.

Somewhere inside me, I know I've hurt him with my
rejection. I'm acknowledging that Ace is right, I can't be with Jeremy anymore.
It was happening too much, and if Jeremy starts to care more than he should...

I'm such an ass.

The bartender sets my tequila in front of me, and I
toss a bill on the counter and down it almost desperately. I feel lost tonight.

Lost and alone.

Something has changed within me, but I can't quite put
my finger on what.

“Hey, Zoey.”

I look up to see Stephan standing near me with a beer
in hand. “Hey,” I greet over the loud music.

His green eyes flicker over my body, taking in the
curves I have on full display tonight. A grin slides over his lips. “You
alone?”

“Yeah.”

He nods toward the front of the room. “We have a table
up front. Want to join us?”

“Sure.” It would beat going back to the others. I'm being
a total bitch by avoiding Jeremy, but I can't help it. I don't want to deal
with him.

Stephan slips an arm around me, and I allow him to
lead me through the crowd. Everyone's enjoying the band, and at this close
range, the music almost hurts my ears. As we reach the table, I see that
Stephan is here with two other guys and one woman. Only one seat is available
and he sits down, immediately slipping his arms around me and pulling me down
on his lap. He handles me with a familiarity that grates on my nerves. We'd had
a one-
nighter
two months ago. I can't help but
inwardly grimace. Maybe Ace is right, and I’m a slut after all.

I'm not exactly comfortable on Stephan's lap, and in
the corner of my eye, I can see one of his friends shooting him an approving nod.
This makes me want to roll my eyes. Instead, I focus on the band. The lead
singer is pretty hot. Since I am in bright red and sitting a little higher
thanks to Stephan's lap, his eyes keep wandering back to me as he sings. I
watch him for a bit before my eyes eventually move back to the other side of
the room. I see that Jeremy has forgotten about me and is now watching the band
perform. Now it's Caleb watching me. He's leaning lazily against the wall, beer
in hand. His eyes shift to Stephan before focusing back on me, as if trying to
figure out what Stephan will mean to me for the night.

I'm distracted when Stephan's hand shifts from my hip
and slides down to my thigh. I glance at him with disapproval. I don't do
public displays. I'll kiss, but it stops there. His eyes hold mine as he takes
a deliberate pull from his beer while his hand creeps between my thighs. My
eyes narrow. Does he really think I'm a sure thing? His eyes tell me he does.
Asshole.

Then I find myself cringe inwardly. No, not an asshole.
He's simply believing what I've always put out there for the general public to
believe. I
am
easy. I'm not picky. If the guy is hot, I am willing to
try him out. Underneath the table, Stephan's hand almost reaches its
destination when I reach down and grip his wrist to make him stop. He frowns at
me.

What the fuck is happening to me tonight? I don't want
to make a scene, so I lean in and say one word in his ear. “Tequila.” He
understands I'm hitting the bar again, and nods, reaching into his pocket to pull
out a ten. He holds it out to me. I shake my head and give him a sultry smile
before standing up and walking away. He doesn't know it, but I won't be coming
back.

When I reach the bar, the bartender quirks an eyebrow.
“One more,” I say. He moves away and I sigh to myself. If I wasn't avoiding my
apartment, I would simply take a cab home.

“If looks could kill, you would be a weapon of mass
destruction,” a familiar accented voice drawls over the loud music. The
bartender—who'd just set down my shot—snorts loudly and turns away to help the
next patron.

I hadn't noticed Caleb had approached me until he
spoke. He stands there confidently, that upward curve in the corner of his lip
very distinct as he looks at me with laughing eyes. The tightness that had
formed in my chest earlier begins to recede as I pick up my shot. I arch an
eyebrow at him. “Did you seriously just use a pick-up line on me?”

He shrugs. “It worked, didn't it?”

“How do you figure that?”

His smile widens. “You're not ignoring me.”

I swallow the laugh that wants to escape, because I
don't want him to see that I'm amused. Instead of replying, I knock back my
tequila. A second later, I set the empty shot glass down on the bar and move
past him, only pausing briefly to pat his bicep before I keep walking. After
several feet I pause and turn back around to see Caleb's eyes still on me.
“Hey, Caleb?”

His eyes drift down to my breasts, clearly distracted.
“Yeah?”

“You know what they say about guys with big muscles.
Small dicks,” I say distinctly.

His eyes jerk up to mine and he smirks with a gleam in
his eye. “We both know you don't have to worry about that.”

I shake my head with bemusement before I walk away for
good, making my way back to the group. The group I'd originally came with has
become the lesser of the two evils. I'm definitely not going back to Stephan
and his grabby hands.

When I approach, I note that Jeremy turns his back on
me to talk to Jake. No one would think anything of it, but I know I've
unintentionally hurt him. I move to stand by Bev and Charlie until the band
finishes their set and they start dismantling their equipment.

Before I can do anything, Ace stands in front of me,
his hand gripping my arm gently but firmly as he leads me a ways away from the
group. I look up at him with surprise. This isn't like him. In this atmosphere,
I don’t exist to him, because he’s usually on the prowl for his next conquest.

He gives me a hard stare. “I said to slow things down,
not reject him in front of everyone.”

I wince. He'd seen? That meant the entire group had
noticed. “I wasn't—I didn't...” I sigh and rub my temple.

“Fix it.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?” I ask flatly as my
hand drops. “You know what'll happen tonight if I approach him and try to make
it up to him. We'll end up in bed. He'll turn those brown eyes of his on me and
I'll be unable to—” I clamp my mouth shut, realizing I've said too much. Damn
it all to hell. I fucking
care.

Ace stares at me, his eyes searching mine as if trying
to figure out just how much I care for Jeremy now that I’ve openly admitted it.

I shut everything down in my mind and give him a cool
look. “It's not my fault if you or Jeremy read more into what I put out there.
He's a big boy. He can handle it.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “So it's like that now,
eh?”

“It's the same as it's always been.”

“The only person you're fooling is yourself.”

“Go jerk yourself, Ace.” I turn and walk away,
mentally berating myself for not only upsetting Jeremy, but now I've gone and
had words with Ace.

This night blows.

Somehow, I manage to push aside my swirling emotions.
I.
Don't. Fucking. Care.
Not at all. They aren't my problem. I find myself
back at the bar again, I hold up two fingers to the bartender and he nods. I
can feel the darkness building within me, and it's going to be a shit night. My
best bet is to just drink myself into oblivion. This way I don't have to feel
anything, and I'll crash when I get home. The second the shots are set down in
front of me, I down them both, barely even feeling the burn in my throat.

“If you're feeling down, I can feel you up,” a
familiar voice murmurs in my ear.

I shake my head and look up to meet Caleb's devilish
blue gaze. “You don't give up, do you?”

“If you didn't want the attention, you wouldn't be wearing
that poor excuse for a dress.”

I sigh. “A girl can change her mind.”

“Absolutely,” he agrees. “I'm glad you kicked the
douche bag to the curb.”

My eyes widen slightly. Was he referring to Jeremy or
to Stephan? Probably Stephan.

“I don't blame Jeremy for trying, but the other guy is
a tool,” he explains, accurately reading my expression. “I've seen him around
campus.”

I decide I'm not nearly drunk enough. I have yet to
feel the slightest hint of a buzz. I turn back towards the bartender, and much
to my dismay, Caleb slips a strong arm around my waist and propels me away from
the bar before I can protest. “What are you doing?”

“I don't mind you buzzed, but you getting tanked is
out of the question,” he says firmly in my ear over the music.

My feet pause, but it makes no difference as he
physically pulls me towards the dance floor. I shoot him a look. “I meant it
when I said you and me are not happening.”

His expression tells me he’s unfazed by my
announcement. “I like a good challenge,” he says as he tugs me out among the
dancing bodies. He keeps one hand on my hip—as if he's making sure I don't take
off—and begins to move to the beat of the song playing over the speakers. It's
a deep, grinding beat, and I'm surprised to find that he can dance.

“You dance?” I shout over the music. Ace, Jeremy, and
AJ wouldn't be caught dead on the dance floor.

“I learned a long time ago women like to dance, and I
don't like being side-lined.”

I have to admit that Caleb's entertaining me. The
darkness has lifted, and I find myself giving over to his antics as I begin to
dance. We move well together, our moves similar. Soon the space between our
bodies begins to disappear as I relax. The tequila's kicking in, and Caleb's
been getting closer and closer to me while I barely notice. It's not too long
before both his hands are on my hips possessively as our hips brush against one
another in a sexy grind.

It's then that I start noticing just how enticing he
really is tonight.

I'm liking the way his biceps bunch as he grips my body,
or the way his shirt clings to his abs, allowing me to see the fine outline of
his rigid muscles as they move when he rubs his body against me. I'm beyond
turned on as his jean clad thighs brush mine. With the thinness of my dress, I
can feel every single brush or touch of his body. He's aware of it too, because
once in a while he deliberately brushes his upper body against mine, slowly.
When he does this, I can feel it through my bra and pleasure streaks through
me. Our bodies are seducing one another while Caleb's face hovers close to
mine. He doesn't try to kiss me, and I am thankful for that. My body's so
attuned to his right now. I know that every move he makes is deliberate, and
seduction is definitely on his mind. I'm helplessly aware that if he kisses me,
I'll be leaving with him. He's too irresistible. Yet, I can't pull away.

Caleb chooses that moment to move in closer—if that's
even possible. His lips brush my ear as he says, “I want to be your paramedic;
I'm mouth to mouth certified.”

Another pick-up line is the last thing I expect, and
it lightens the seductiveness of the moment. Laughter bubbles up from my throat
as I pull back and look up at him. “Do those really work?”

He arches an eyebrow, deliberately glancing down at our
bodies that are still pressed up against one another. “Do you really have to
ask?”

I shake my head. “What do you do, surf the net for
pick-up lines? We both know you don't need them.”

“Evidently, I do with you,” he says dryly.

“Why me?”

He meets my curious gaze. “Just trying to get your
attention. And no, I don't research pick-up lines. A friend of mine back home
likes to use them as conversation starters. Most of the time it works, and once
in a while it doesn't.”

I shake my head and pull away from him. “I'm thirsty.”
His eyes light up, his mouth opening. “Don't even think about it,” I laugh as I
turn and walk away, knowing he'll be right on my heels.

When I reach the bar, Caleb snakes an arm around my
waist, his head bending low to mine as he says,
“
Ask
for water or soda.”

I tilt my head slightly so I can pointedly meet his
gaze. “I'm not going home with you.”

“Keep saying it if it makes you feel better.”

“You're incorrigible,” I say as I step up to the bar.
When the bartender looks at me expectantly, I order a tequila and hear Caleb
sigh from behind me. When the shot glass is set in front of me, I reach for it,
but Caleb beats me to it. He downs it before I can do or say anything, causing
me to stare at him. That was mine.