Redeem Me: Oakville Series:Book Four (4 page)

I give her a little wink and my lopsided grin. Her face flushes an even darker shade of red. What the hell am I doing? I can’t be thinking of her like that. She’s too good. Too innocent for the likes of me. She needs a nice guy. One who can love her and make her happy.

I switch my gaze to the cheap looking woman right in front of the stage. Her low cut blouse barely covering her girls and skin-tight leather skirt tells me she’s here to be noticed. She’s looking at me with that same lust. This is more my speed—a woman who just wants a one-nighter with a guy from the band. One who won’t expect a call the next day or for me to even remember her name once she leaves.

I spend the remainder of the set flirting with her. A few winks here and there. A lopsided grin every now and then. It doesn’t take much to know she’s the one I’ll be bringing home tonight. Not being able to stop myself, I glance over to Chelsie. The lusty look I saw in her eyes earlier is long gone, replaced with a combination of anger and disgust. If looks could kill, I’d be lying bloody on the floor. I can understand the disgust—hell, sometimes I disgust myself with my behavior.

But where’s the anger coming from? What the hell did I do to her? Yeah, we flirt a little back and forth, but there’s never been anything more. She can’t be pissed at me for that. I can take one look at her and tell she’s not a one night kind of girl. Besides, she can’t possibly want a guy like me, and even if she did, I’m not all about hearts and flowers.

Chelsie

I
tip my appletini up to my lips, trying to get the very last drop. Damn Amber for getting us all hooked on these drinks. All night, I’ve been working up the courage to talk to Angel. I finally made the decision to approach him, to see if he’s up for a friends-with-benefits relationship with me, then I see him flirting with that woman and it just reminds me how much of a tramp he is.

Is this really the type of woman he finds attractive? She’s more plastic than a Barbie doll—fake from her dyed blonde extensions all the way down to her pressed-on toenails. Her boobs look like they’re going to pop right out of her top. One wrong move, and those nips are gonna be showing themselves to the whole bar. Which is probably what she’s hoping for.

She bats her glued-on eyelashes, and he winks at her. She puckers her collagen-inflated lips, and he throws out that panty-dropping smile of his. Honestly, that smile is a waste of his time. It’s doubtful this girl has any panties to lose. No way am I making myself up or acting like an idiot just to get his attention. What happened to being yourself? Oh, wait, that’s right—I’m the one who’s never had a boyfriend. I just don’t think I can act like Silicone Barbie up there. I’m more of a
what you see is what you get
kind of girl.

“Are you trying to stare a hole through those silicone fun bags on Tits McGee over there?” Holly asks through her laughter. Amber is laughing so hard, she’s starting to look like a Smurf. I can’t help but join in, too. This whole thing is pretty damn funny. Here I am, a virgin, wanting the biggest whore in town to change all that for me. Of course he’s all over her—girls like me don’t go throwing themselves at men. Though…they don’t avoid them like the plague either, hence my virgin status.

My laughter stops when I realize I can’t compare to women like that. I’m not some made-up beauty queen with boobs that walk into a room way ahead of me. But I’m also not so bad to look at that you’d throw a bag over my head. I’m average—nothing that will make headlines on the cover of fashion magazines, or, in blondie’s case, the cover of a stroke book, AKA a nudey magazine.

“You’re not jealous of the groupie, are you?” Amber asks with a smirk on her face. Jealous? That’s absurd. Sickened. Appalled, even. But not jealous.

“Me being jealous would imply I have feelings for Angel and I can honestly say I don’t feel anything for him…except horny,” I say as I grab the fresh appletini and guzzle it. Holly and Amber exchange glances, then stare at me. They think they know something I don’t, but they’re wrong. Angel isn’t a man you develop feelings for unless you want your heart ripped out and stomped on. Even he admits he’s not a relationship kind of guy. He’s never had, nor does he ever want, anything more than a roll in the hay. I will give him credit for the fact that he’s honest and up front about who he is and what he wants…or doesn’t want—whichever the case may be. If some poor girl is stupid enough to fall for him, then that’s their own fault.

“Protest all you want, I still think you feel a little more than you realize,” Holly says with a grin. I flip her off and go back to my drink. I do, however, need to figure out how to approach him. Do I just say,
Hey, Angel, want to be fuck buddies?
Or do I say,
I’m a virgin and I’d like you to pop my cherry and teach me what I need to know for when I find Mr. Right
? Either of those approaches will make him think I’m a fucking nutcase.

In an attempt to get myself out of the spotlight, I change the subject. The best way to distract two new mothers is to ask about their babies. In a matter of seconds, the phones come out. Holly is flipping through all her pictures of Hope and Amber’s doing the same with pictures of Cody. I’m getting whiplash trying to look at them both, but at least they’re no longer digging into my business. I love those kids to death, so I don’t mind looking at pictures and listening to their latest milestone.

A few appletinis later, Paul and Kyle are taking seats at our table. Immediately, Paul and Holly are lip locked, and Kyle and Amber just need to get a damn room. Excusing myself, I go up to the bar, order a shot of Tequila, and perch myself on a stool. As I look over my shoulder at them, a twinge of jealousy runs through me. I’m happy for the four of them, I just wish I had that kind of love.

On the other end of the bar, I see Angel. Silicone Barbie is running her hands all over his chest while sticking hers out, still trying to seal the deal. He better be careful; one small chill and he could get an eye poked out. Those knockers could be deadly. Strangely enough, his eyes are anywhere but on her. When he swats her hand away, she balls her fists at her sides, her foot taps furiously, and her cheeks flush a bright red. In the blink of an eye, she grabs the nearest drink, throws it in Angel’s face, and storms off. I can’t stop the laughter that leaves my mouth, my body shaking from trying to restrain my humor.

I get myself under control and open my eyes, jumping when I see Angel standing in front of me. His shirt is soaked and there’s a huge wet spot on the crotch of his jeans. The usual bulge in his jeans is more pronounced when wet, and I can’t seem to look away.

“See something you like, sweet pea?” Angel questions. His grin is cocky, and he smells like coconut and pineapple. Heat flushes my cheeks. I can’t believe I got busted staring at his junk. I’m so damned flustered, I can’t even think of a decent comeback. Not only am I going to look like a moron, but I’ll sound like one, too. Although…I could use this to my advantage and start flirting with him. I nervously twist a strand of hair around my finger.
Now, if only I can figure out how in the hell to flirt...

“Maybe I do. What are you gonna do about it?” I ask, trying to sound seductive. Angel chokes on the mouthful of beer he just swallowed, and it takes him a minute to get himself under control.
I guess it worked...maybe.
As soon as he does, his smooth and cocky demeanor is right back in place.

“Are you teasing me, sweet pea?” he asks with a laugh. He most certainly thinks I’m just playing around with him, but I’m not. He’s sporting a lopsided grin that sends a tingle straight between my legs.
Wow.
That’s something new. And to think, he hasn’t even touched me yet. I can’t wait to see what it feels like when he does.

“Not at all,” I answer. I drink the new tequila shot that’s been placed in front of me, knowing liquid courage is what I need right now. My heart beats a mile a minute. “I think you should take me home.” I try to give him a seductive smile, though I don’t really know what a seductive smile looks like, let alone how to make one.

“Sure, I can give you a ride home. It’s not like it’s out of the way.” Is he really that dense? Or could it be he just doesn’t look at me in a physical way? Time to turn up the heat and forget the subtle flirting—I obviously suck at it.

“Let me rephrase that. Take me home to bed. Mine. Yours. It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re in the same one. Naked.”
Holy crap! Did that really just leave my mouth?
When Angel’s eyes widen, I realize it did, and he is as shocked as I am. Well, it’s out there. No taking it back now. This is the moment of truth, and I suddenly have the urge to vomit. Did I just make a total fool of myself? I motion to the bartender for another drink. If I did just make a complete ass of myself, I can blame it on the booze. He opens his mouth, and quickly shuts it. A puzzled look crosses his face.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve been warned. Holly and Amber told me if I ever touched you, they would remove my balls with a rusty knife,” he says, cringing a little at the thought. Not that I blame him. It sounds unpleasant, and exactly like something those girls would do. His voice is shaky when he speaks again. “Besides, I’m not a girlfriend kind of guy, and you don’t strike me as the type of girl who has meaningless sex.” Up to this point, I haven’t, but I’d like to be that type of girl.

“I beg to differ. Maybe meaningless sex is exactly what I want and need. If I were looking for a boyfriend, I wouldn’t come to you. I know better than that,” I state. Grabbing my drink, I down half of it in one gulp, causing my eyes to water. Even through my watery eyes, I can see the complete shock on his face. Somebody’s gonna step on his lip if he doesn’t pick his jaw up off the floor. He just sits there staring at me in disbelief. Guess it’s time to up my game. I lean in closer and using my pointer finger, tip his jaw closed. Sparks ignite in my fingertips the moment our skin touches. He arches an eyebrow and the corners of his lips raise slightly. Lifting my shot glass, I let the bartender know I need another. As soon as he places it in front of me, I down it. With each drink, I feel myself becoming braver.

“Ya know, I never had you pegged for a pussy Angel,” I tease. He busts out laughing, holding his stomach with one hand and using the other to wipe away the falling tears. Angel finally catches his breath and sips his beer. He’s sexy when he smiles, and it has me wanting to touch him. I place my hand on his knee, moving it in slow circles. He jumps at the contact and gently moves my hand back on the bar. Again, I hold my glass in the air.

“I think Holly and Amber are rubbing off on you a little,” he says with a chuckle. His face turns serious. “I really don’t think you and I are a good idea. There are just too many friendships at risk if it goes south.” He starts to get up from the stool, but I grab his shoulder and push him back down. A small grin crosses his face.

My blood is boiling. Is he honestly turning me down? I have seen him leave here with so many questionable women, what is wrong with me? Maybe he doesn’t find me attractive. After all, I don’t have silicone-filled tits bigger than his head and I’m not made up like a circus clown. Or maybe it’s the way I dress. My average V-neck t-shirt and jeans obviously doesn’t compare to a skin-tight skirt showing off my
ass
ets every time I bend over. My anger quickly turns into embarrassment and humiliation. I knew I couldn’t compete with girls like the one he was flirting with earlier. I might as well become a damn nun. I’m gonna die a virgin anyway, might as well have an excuse. I down the fresh shot in front of me, needing to wash away the humiliation.

This time, it’s me who gets up to leave. After making a complete fool out of myself, there’s no way I can stay here any longer. Angel looks at me like I’m the mutt in the pound that never gets chosen. And I suppose I am, but I don’t need a reminder from the man who sleeps with anything that has a vagina. I wobble on my feet as I stand, the numerous shots I’ve had becoming evident. Angel grabs me around the waist to steady me.

“Don’t go jumping to conclusions, sweet pea,” he snaps as he helps me sit back on my stool. “It’s not that I don’t want to take you to bed, because I do. You have no idea how much I do. And don’t go thinking you’re not attractive, because you are. You’re so fucking hot. It’s just me. I don’t think we could do this without someone getting hurt.” He stands and kisses the top of my head. Heat radiates through me from the feel of his soft lips. My core aches and I squeeze my legs together tighter, trying to ease it. Reaching into his pocket, he throws down some money and motions to the bartender.

“I’d still like to give you a ride home so I know you’re safe,” he states, and I look up at him. He’s smiling sweetly at me, but there’s pain in his eyes I don’t quite understand. Did I say something that hurt him, or is it the demons the girls are always talking about? Does that have something to do with why he’s rejecting me? I feel naive and a little stupid. I’m the only one in this group who doesn’t have some terrible troubled past. Not that I’m complaining, but sometimes it makes me feel disconnected, like I don’t really fit in.