Trust Me (11 page)

A car honks, signaling their arrival, and I grab my dark brown clutch and head for the door. After locking up, I descend the stairs of my apartment building and exit the doors.
Shit.
As I walk toward the silver SUV, I notice the only seat available is the front passenger seat. I hope we beat Damien there because I have a feeling if I’m in the front seat of another guy’s car, the possessive side of Damien would come out and play. I’ll look like an idiot though if I try to get someone else to sit up there. When Brad starts to disembark from his vehicle, I rush to the passenger’s side and hop in.

“Hey, Allison. You look different…I mean, you look fantastic.” He is sitting behind the wheel of the car, smiling from ear to ear, as he tries to pull off a sexy look.

Brad is not bad-looking. He’s tall and lean in a muscular way, and his blond hair is cut short. He just doesn’t cause any type of sexual stirring in me. In fact, no other man but Damien has made that feeling arise.

Brad’s green eyes continue to stare at me.

Feeling uncomfortable, I turn away as I respond, “Thanks, Brad.”

I can feel him still watching me, and I fidget with the hem of my dress. He asked me out a couple of times, but it felt more like he was doing a favor for Sam. He seems different tonight though.
That’s not good, not good at all.

I look to the backseat, avoiding eye contact with the driver, and I give a wave and a smile to the rest of the group. “Hey, girls. Thanks for letting me tag along.”

They all say something at the same time, and I just smile, not being able to decipher anything more than, “Hey,” said in return. Sam gives me the look that wordlessly tells she tried to get me back there with her, but she couldn’t swing it without making a scene. That’s the nice thing about being friends since we could barely walk. We have developed a way of silently communicating.

About an hour later, we finally arrive at the Hitchin’ Post.

As I reach for the door, Brad’s voice penetrates the constant chatter. “Wait there and I’ll get your door, Allison.”

Oh, hell no.
There’s no way I am going there. That screams date, and it would give the impression that I want more. “It’s all right. I’ve got it.”

Not wanting to argue, I quickly get out of the car and hang back with the girls as they disembark from the vehicle. I can feel Brad right behind me, and I give Sam that look, telling her that he’s driving me crazy. She immediately links arms with me, and we make our way to the door. Of course, Brad comes up and is right there on my other side, his arm brushing against mine as we walk.

During the past six months, he has only seen me in either jeans or yoga pants paired with T-shirts, but it is hard to believe that me wearing a dress is causing his testosterone to go into overdrive. Give a girl a new outfit and an aura that she’s seeing someone, and I guess that makes her attractive to anyone.

“Do you two-step?” Brad asks, his arm brushing against mine, harder this time.

A shiver goes up my arm, and it’s not the good kind.

Sam, being my best friend in the entire world, takes over the conversation. “Of course she two-steps. She’s a country girl at heart. How are you and Serena?”

I love Sam so much.
Serena must be Brad’s current flavor of the week. He doesn’t answer Sam’s question as we pay our entrance fee.

As I look around to see if Damien is here yet, I notice the bar has that country feel. The walls are covered in rusted tin with various old-fashioned beer signs, vintage farming tools, and pictures of famous country singers who have darkened these doorsteps at one time or another. The tables and floor are all old varnished wood that looks well-used and worn. The stage at the end of the room has a large American flag hanging behind it. The place smells of greasy food and alcohol.

When Brad puts his hand on the small of my back, I go stiff.

“What do you want to drink? I’ll go get it.” He’s looking down at me with a semi-hooded expression.

I freeze, giving him a mystified look, but it doesn’t seem to even faze him. I’m about to say something when a voice sounds from behind me.

“I’ve got her from here.”

My body automatically responds even though it is filled with ice. I turn around to see Damien standing there, wearing artfully ripped blue jeans with an untucked white button-up shirt and brown boots. Every time I see him, my heart skips a beat. Without thinking, I walk straight into him, and my hand goes to his chest. Although we just saw each other yesterday, it feels like it’s been forever.

He stares at me as he says, “You are breathtaking.”

A blush creeps on my cheeks. “Thank you. I’m glad you came back early.”

“Me, too. I don’t know what I was thinking. The moment you drove away, I started making plans to return home.”

He wraps his arm around my waist and guides me as we follow the rest of the group to the table. We sit toward the end, next to Sam. Brad and two of his friends are seated across from us. I’ve seen them before, but I can’t remember their names. When Sam gives me a look, I remember I haven’t even introduced her to him yet. His presence completely disarms me.

“Damien, this is Sam. Sam, Damien.”

Sam leans behind me to shake Damien’s hand. Keeping her voice low enough so only Damien and I can hear her, she says, “Wales, it’s nice to meet you, but I’ve gotta say you are on my shit list, regardless of how taken Allison is with you. Stay away from my players.”

Her teasing voice causes me to smile.

Damien responds, matching her tone, “If I keep stealing all your players, then I might have to watch you more closely to see which ones you are rooting for. Seems like you might have a good eye for talent. I think the only way to settle this is to make a wager.”

Sam says, “So, if I win, you stay away from my favorite players on any of my teams, and if you win, you have carte blanche access to them. What are the terms?”

“You name them.”

She pops her knuckles, like she’s a serious gambler. “If you make Allison a sports fan, you win. If you don’t, I win. And by fan, I mean, she goes to the games willingly, and she knows what’s going on by the end of the upcoming season.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Deal.”

She erupts into laughter.

I turn to Damien. “It’s not gonna happen. You just lost.”

Sam is almost in tears as she barely gets out, “Good luck, Wales. Good. Luck. I’ll start preparing a list of people to stay away from.”

“We’ll see.” His voice has an inflection of confidence as if he’s already won. He gives me a devilish grin, like he knows something.

When I glance across the table, Brad is looking at us. He asks, “So, Allison, who is your friend?” He says the word
friend
with a sarcastic tone.

Damien tenses beside me. He does not give me time to respond. “I’m Damien, Alli’s boyfriend. And you are?” His aggressive voice more than implies he’s ready to have a pissing contest if need be, and he knows he’ll walk away the winner.

Boyfriend! He said he’s my boyfriend.
It’s the first time he’s used that word, and I’m internally screaming with excitement.

Brad looks at me for confirmation, and I smile before he looks back at Damien.

“I’m Brad.” Brad turns to me and asks, “When did you start going by Alli?”

Oh man, I hope I can head this off at the pass.
“I still go by Allison.”

Some of the sorority girls choose that moment to ask the three guys sitting across from us, including Brad, to dance.
Thank heavens.
As they’re leaving, the waitress delivers our beers.

Sam moves to sit across the table from Damien, and she kicks up one leg on the empty chair in front of me. She fans herself. “Whew, the angst in here was getting a little high. I would think Damien had just killed Brad’s puppy from the look on his face when he found out Allison was off the market.”

“I don’t think he’s gotten the point yet, but he will. So, Sam, Alli says became an official sorority at your university?”

I appreciate Damien’s efforts for trying to keep the evening light even though I know he feels challenged by Brad.

She smirks at his question. “Yes. We’ve been working on it for about six months. Red tape and paperwork can be a bitch.” She takes a sip of her beer.

Lifting my bottle, I chime in, “Hear, hear to that! Many congrats!”

“Thanks.” She taps my bottle with the neck of hers. “Oh hey, the ribbon-cutting ceremony is next week. Can you make it?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Let me know the details.”

Damien puts his hand on my leg and adds, “We’ll be there.”

“Sounds great. I’ll get you guys all the info.” Sam gives me a wink as a striking guy approaches her. He’s been sucked into her orbit.
Poor guy.

“Care to dance?” He tips his cowboy hat our way and smiles back at Sam.

Without answering him, she puts her hand in his. As Sam walks by, she leans down, and keeping her voice loud enough to where I can hear, she whispers to Damien, “Please take care of her. She’s my most special friend in the world.”

I know I turn ten shades of crimson as my skin temperature rises twenty degrees.

“Sam, I promise.”

She gives him a little pat and continues walking. The guy she’s dancing with will probably want to propose by the time this evening ends. I give him a mental I-feel-sorry-for-you pat on the back. He’ll probably pine after her, and she’ll walk away without a second thought.

Most of the table has vacated to the dance floor, leaving me alone with Damien. I turn to him, and he’s giving me that smoldering look.

I immediately push my thighs together to provide some type of relief. “How’d your meetings go?”

“We finally came to terms. You are absolutely stunning.” He takes his right hand and runs it along my jaw.

I lean my head into his touch.
Ahhh.
That throb is back with a vengeance. I can feel moisture building around my sex. My thighs are not doing a good job at holding the ache at bay.

“You like this?” he asks.

“Mmhmm,” I barely get out.

His finger stops its slow, sensual movements, and I look up into his eyes.

“I would like for you to come home with me tonight. No rush on when we leave, but I want to spend some time together. Whatever happens is up to you, baby.”

I am captured by this man’s deep blue eyes. Putting my hand on top of his, I respond, “I would like that very much. I have to dance with Sam once, and then we can go. Does that sound good?”

“Yes. You and Sam have a dance?”

We are moving closer and closer together. The magnetic force between us is stronger than ever because of our brief time apart.

“Kind of. You’ll see. We’ve been doing it since high school. This is the first time in over a year we’ve had a chance to do it.”

Damien’s face softens because he knows why I haven’t been out. One of his hands comes to rest on my hip as we scoot a little closer to each other.

“Did you choose to sit in the front seat of Brad’s car?” he asks.

Oh, he was watching.
Part of me wants to get defensive, but I try to put myself in his shoes, and I would have the same question he does. He’s attempting to put all of this together. He doesn’t know my friends—really, they’re Sam’s friends—or my history with them.

“No, they picked me up last. It was the only seat available. If I had known he was going to act like this tonight, then I would have insisted on driving myself. I’m sorry.”

His nose is against mine now, and I can smell his wintergreen breath.

“You did nothing wrong. Does he normally act differently?”

“Yes, at least, I think he does. I have been really antisocial for the last year. I’ve been out with them as a group only a few times in the last six months or so, and it was under duress from Sam. Brad asked me out a couple of times, but it seemed more on the friend level or as a favor to Sam to get me out of my apartment. I said no every time.”

My knees are now between his legs. His one hand remains on my hip as the other moves to the side of my neck. Immediately, electricity zooms between our points of contact, engulfing us in our own private bubble.

He only has to move an inch to give me a kiss, and he finally closes the distance. It starts off gentle and easy, and then he escalates it into a more domineering kiss. It’s right on the brink of being inappropriate in front of company. I missed these lips, and I know he is announcing his territory. He is marking me, and I absolutely love it. He is showing everyone here that I am his.

When a cough sounds from beside us, Damien breaks the kiss, but he doesn’t look away from me or remove his hands. Immediately, I want the intruder to go away. I glance over to see Sam, and I blush at being caught kissing like I’m a teenager. She knows Damien wants to spend time with me, but it’s tradition to do our thing anytime we are in a country bar. Since I haven’t been in one for a while, there is no way she is going to let me leave before we dance.

“Geez, we’ve got to get you guys out of here stat, so you can get a room,” she jokes.

I blush again.

“I put in the request for our song. Woot, woot. Are you ready to get your dance on?” Sam asks.