Pulling into the parking lot of her apartment complex, I glanced at my phone once more just to make sure I’d gotten the number right—3A. Inhaling deeply, I started along the little sidewalk in front of the building.
3A was easy enough to find, it was my confidence to knock on the door that wasn’t. When I finally gathered up enough courage to do so, Paige was the one who answered. Was it a written rule that the actual person you were there to see never answered the door with girls? Because that’s always what seemed to happen, to me at least.
“Hey,” Paige said. She moved out of the way so I could squeeze past her and into the living room. “Blaire will be out in just a minute.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said. Could I sound more like an idiot?
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The apartment was nice. The walls were a shade of tan with the farthest wall being a bright red. I knew it was called an accent wall, but it seemed a little too bright and bold for my taste. I was more of a neutrals man, hence the grayish shirt I’d picked out for tonight.
“Hey, are you ready?” Blaire asked as she strutted down the hall toward me. She was dressed in a sexy little yellow dress that looked sophisticated and chic on her. There were some long necklaces that came right where I was sure her cleavage would be and she wore some strappy shoes with a wedge heel that made her legs look long and lean.
Hot was not even a word I would use to describe her—scorching was more like it.
“Yeah,” I said.
Blaire grabbed her purse off the table by the front door, said her goodbyes to her two friends, and then I had my hand at the small of her back, guiding her out the door.
“You look amazing,” I commented once were outside.
Some might consider that a line, and maybe I’d used it in the past as that a time or two, but this time it wasn’t. It was the truth. Walking her to my Jeep, I was suddenly grateful I’d remembered to put the soft top on, because I would hate for her perfect looks to get messed up on the ride to Shooters from the wind. Blaire looked like perfection to me right now.
“Thanks,” she said.
She went straight to the passenger side door and opened it without waiting on me to do so for her. Obviously she wasn’t into the whole male chivalry thing. I could get down with that, I guess. I cranked my Jeep and shifted into reverse, my engine whining as I backed up. Shifting into drive with a little force, I flicked the dial on the volume of the radio and some rap song blasted through the speakers. It was better to fill the silence before it became palpable. Those were my thoughts on it, anyway.
When we reached Shooters, I found the closest parking space to the door I could. Blaire got out as soon as I cut the engine, again without me having the chance to open the door for her. Was she really that against chivalry or did she just not want to be here? Damn it, was this a forced pity date? Fuck. Blaire Hayes wasn’t the sweetheart from high school I’d figured she still was.
She paused at the front of my Jeep. “I love that color,” she said, motioning toward it.
“Thanks.”
We walked to the door of Shooters side by side. The music filtered through the thin glass and I cringed at how this night was not going the way I wanted it to so far. Blaire was making me nervous—normally I didn’t do nervous. Not that I was one of those arrogant guys who thought they were God’s gift… I was just a little more confident in myself was all.
Not in the presence of Blaire, it seemed. I needed a drink…some liquid courage.
I reached for the door and pulled it open, allowing her to step in before me. Call me a tad old-fashioned, but I at least thought the guy should open the damn door to a place for the girl… Maybe not the car door, that looked a little whipped and creeper-like, but to a place of business, yes.
“Oh. Thanks.” She said the words as though my actions had surprised her.
“What?” I smirked. “Didn’t think I had a chivalrous bone in my body? I have a few.”
She laughed and began toying with the strap to her little wrist-purse thingy. It was like a cell phone case and a wallet combined. I bet she looked goofy as shit talking into the phone with a wallet pressed to her ear. I secretly hoped she got to use it in my presence tonight after we’d had a few drinks so I could laugh at her without the fear of pissing her off.
After showing our I.D.s at the door, we crossed the oversized red tile floor to the wooden bar against the back wall. Shooters. I’d come here a few times when I was eighteen. My hand had been stamped with that awful X of doom and my horrible fake I.D. had been shredded in front of me. Didn’t stop me, I’d still gone into the bathroom and scraped at the back of my hand until it was raw trying to get that damn X off. I hadn’t succeeded.
Glancing around, I realized the place hadn’t changed much. There was still the same crowd hanging here, the same music playing, the same neon lights hung and the same painted wood paneling walls framed in the place. Shooters wasn’t run-down or nasty by any means, but the coolest thing about this bar was its name.
“So, what do you want to drink?” I asked as we both took a seat at the bar.
Blaire set her little wrist-purse down and flicked her big blue eyes my way. “What are you having?”
“A shot of Captain Morgan.” I needed something to get over this nervousness building in my stomach. “Want one?”
Her nose scrunched up in a cute little way at the thought. “No, I’m not much of a straight liquor person. Besides, don’t you think you’re starting out a little strong?”
Swiping a peanut shell someone had cracked and left on the bar to the floor, I glanced at her sideways. “Beer before liquor, never sicker. Liquor before beer, never fear,” I said, adding a little cockiness to my tone for good measure. “We’ll be here for a while anyway, don’t you think?”
That was my nonchalant way of figuring out if this had been a forced pity date. If she answered with a “maybe” or an “I don’t know,” then it was. But if she answered with a “could be” or an “I guess you’re right,” then things were okay and I was just being paranoid.
“I guess you’re right.” She smiled. My lips twisted to mirror hers and my heart thumped triumphantly. “I’ll take a Long Island iced tea.”
Waving the bartender down, I handed him a twenty, told him to keep any change, and then ordered our drinks. I’d learned a while ago that tipping the bartender first gave you stouter drinks and made him, or on occasion her, your friend for the night. Once the shot glass of liquid fire was placed in front of me, I picked it up and held it out to clink Blaire’s cup for a toast.
“To tonight,” I said. It was all I could come up with and all that seemed to matter. Tonight.
She grinned and nodded. “To tonight.”
Her tongue darted out and sucked the little thin straw from her glass into her mouth. I felt a slight spasm begin to stir in my shorts at the sight. Tipping my shot glass back, I let the burn of alcohol slip down my throat and kill that spasm before it strengthened.
“Another,” I called to the bartender. My eyes shifted to Blaire. “And then I’ll have one beer and I’m done for the night. I know I still have to drive you home.” I winked at her.
She grinned and looked away, chewing on the little straw still. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
“Oh, right.” She set her glass down in front of her and leaned against the bar on her elbows. “I forgot you’re a psychology major for a second. Have you been trying to read me tonight, Mr. Bryant?”
I grinned and downed the rum in front of me. The way she’d said “Mr. Bryant” made the spasm stir again in my shorts. “It’s quite possible.”
Her eyes widened at my admittance and I noticed a little twinkle of mockery flash in them. “And what have you learned so far?” she asked.
Licking my bottom lip, tasting the taint of rum there, I glanced at her glass, taking note of how much she’d already had to drink. It was
half empty—or half full, depending on how you viewed such things. Judging from her weight and how I knew she was a studious shut-in, not to mention most definitely the type to be a workaholic, she was probably feeling pretty tipsy right about now. The fact that the bartender had poured her a strong one to start, because I’d given him a hefty tip beforehand, added to this theory of mine.
“That you need to loosen up and have a little fun.” I locked eyes with her and prayed like hell she wouldn’t slap me for what I was about to say. “And that you need to get laid, because it’s been forever.”
Her jaw dropped. I chuckled at her expression and waved the bartender over so I could order a beer. Blaire reached for her drink and sucked down a few swigs without responding. Her cheeks were growing pink under the strange lights of the bar. I’d embarrassed her. That must mean I’d been dead on.
“You got all of that from the little bit we’ve been sitting here?” she asked.
“I’ll take a Land Shark, please,” I told the bartender. When the guy handed it to me, I twisted the cap off and faced Blaire. “Yeah.”
She chuckled and cast her eyes down to her drink. “You’re going to be a great shrink one day.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BLAIRE
How the hell had he gathered that last part? Did I have a sticker on my forehead that said it’s been months since I’ve been touched by a guy?
Jesus, Jason Bryant was so out of my league.
Running a hand through my hair, I finished off my drink. If the conversation was going to continue in the direction it was headed, then I needed way more alcohol in my system. Pushing my empty glass away, I waved to the bartender, ready to order another.
“I’ll get it for you,” Jason said with a small smile. “I didn’t ask you out so you could buy your own drinks…or to embarrass you for that matter. I’m sorry. Sometimes this analytical side of me takes over. I notice way too much about people and forget to filer what I say.”
The bashful little smile on his face tugged at my heart, causing it to pitter-patter in my chest faster than it should. Was that a line? If it was, it was smooth. My eyes trailed over him, taking in everything about him. The gray collared T-shirt he wore was tight in all the right places. His khaki cargo shorts were the right amount of baggy and his flip-flops screamed casual sexiness. He gave off a laid-back vibe and I loved it.
The bartender came over with another Long Island for me. Jason handed him a crisp bill from in his wallet. I took a sip and watched as he lifted his ass up and tucked the wallet back into his back pocket.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, forcing my eyes away from the muscles I could see shifting and flexing in his forearm while he played with the cap from his beer. “I was a little embarrassed, but only because what you said is true. I’m fine now.”
I wanted to smack myself. Why the hell did I just flat-out admit that to him? What I’d said before had been enough; there was no reason for me to add to it. Heat crept along my neck. I’d look like I was having an allergic reaction in a matter of seconds. Great.
“Maybe this will lift your embarrassment some: it’s been a while for me, too,” he said.
This new knowledge he’d openly offered floored me. His eyes locked with mine as he brought his beer to his perfect lips for a swig. I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed from the action.
“Why?” The question formed in my head, but I had no intentions of actually saying it aloud, and most definitely not in such a dumbfounded tone. Rich laughter rumbled through his chest and his head tipped back in the process. A grin twisted at my lips, one I couldn’t suppress no matter how hard I tried. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my place.” I forced my eyes to look anywhere except at him as I shook my head.
“No, it’s okay,” he said, containing himself. “I just can’t get over how shocked you seem by my confession.”
I took a sip of my drink. “You just don’t seem like the type to have any dry spells. If I remember correctly, you didn’t have that problem in high school either, and I can’t imagine it forming in college of all places.”
Hadn’t meant to say that one aloud either. What the hell was in this drink, a loose lips amplifier?
“People change,” he said. “You did.”
“How so?”
“You’ve gotten more beautiful, for starters.”
His words made my stomach flutter and my heart pound. That was most definitely a line…but I liked it. Jason straightened his back and downed the rest of his beer. Banging the empty bottle against the bar as he set it back down, he stood and held out a hand to me.
“Let’s dance,” he said.
Taking a large swig of my drink, I place my hand in his. He picked my wristlet off the counter and crammed it into the oversized side pocket of his shorts. “Do you actually talk with that thing pressed to your ear?”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s like the best invention ever—a cell-phone case and a wallet combined in one. Now I don’t have to lug my big-ass purse around wherever I go.”
“That’s hilarious.” He grinned. “I hope I get to see it in action tonight at some point.”
For the first time since I’d bought the thing, I questioned its functionality. Maybe I did look stupid with it pressed against my ear. A chuckle escaped me as we walked out to the mini dance floor.
“What’s so funny?” Jason asked. His lips nearly brushed against my ear in his effort to have me hear his words clearly. “Is your drink catching up with you?”
“That and the fact that I’ve always been so against using a Bluetooth because I didn’t want to look like a moron talking to myself…but then I bought a wallet that fits my phone inside and talk to it instead.” I laughed.
The giggles that bellowed from me now were unstoppable. My drink had caught up with me. Surely Jason thought I was a nut bag by now, either that or that I was the world’s cheapest drunk. Containing myself, I finished the remaining inch of drink resting in the bottom of my cup and then walked to a trash can close by.
“Funny thing, I feel the same way about those stupid Bluetooth things. I always think people are nuts when I see them talking to themselves in the store…then they either turn and I can see the doodad in their ear or the wires hanging down from the earbuds and that’s when I know.” His lips brushed against my ear this time and a shiver slid through me at the sensation.
Lauren’s words from earlier replayed in my mind—you didn’t agree to go out with him to talk and get to know one another… You agreed because you want what’s in his pants and you know it—and I gave into the sensation, the alcohol, and the night.
Slipping my hands along his forearms and up his biceps, I smiled up at him and realized one thing: I am a grown-ass woman and if I want to have a one-night stand, then I can.
A fast-paced song came on and my body began to sway to the music. Jason moved with me. His hands gripped my hips as I danced to the beat, lost in the rhythm. Let loose—it’s what everyone always said to me, so that’s exactly what I planned on doing tonight.
Images of Paige dirty dancing flashed through my mind and I attempted to mimic her moves on Jason. I must have been doing something right, because soon a large smile spread on his face and his pupils dilated as his eyes grew hooded by lust. The shivering sensation I’d felt earlier slid through me again at the thought of turning him on. Gripping my hips, Jason crushed his pelvic area against my ass and I could feel exactly just how turned on he actually was. All I could think was that this was truly the start of something wicked between us.
One more Long Island later, I was out of breath, tipsy, and so pent up with sexual energy I felt as though I might burst. Jason handed me my wristlet purse and licked his lips.
“You ready to get out of here?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I’d attempted to sound flirty and cute, but instead my voice sounded strangled. “Are you all right to drive?”
“Fine. I’ve had two shots and one beer, but we’ve been he
re for hours.” He nodded. “What about you?”
I laughed. “I’m tipsy as hell, this is the limit. If I had another, I’d barf for sure. I’m cutting myself off.” My hands moved in some weird cutting motion across my neck to emphasize my point better.
The sound of his laughing merged with mine and our eyes locked. Once our laughter settled, a silence draped over us while we continued to gaze at one another. A song too loud and too fast paced for the moment lingering between us started.
“What do you say to heading down to the river?” Jason asked. His amusement from my earlier words still lingered on his beautiful face, but there was a seriousness twisting in the depths of his eyes. “Think you can walk that far in those shoes?” His gaze dropped to my shoes and a smirk played at the corners of his mouth.
“It’s not that far,” I protested. “Besides, there’s no rule that states I have to keep them on.”
* * * *
The water was cool. I’d kicked off my sandals long before we made it to the river’s edge and now stood with my toes planted firmly in place as the river’s constant movement slipped over my skin. The moon was low in the sky, nearly full and shedding just the right amount of light down on us. I took a step back, onto a smooth rocky ledge behind me, as the chill of the water soon became too much. The rock beneath my bare feet was still warm from the sun and I let out a little sigh into the night. I tipped my head back to look up at the star-filled sky, taking in all of nature’s uncorrupted beauty that surrounded me.
Jason came up behind me, his sandals shuffling against the smooth surface of the rock. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice nothing but a whisper.
Glancing over my shoulder at him, I was surprised by how close he was to me. Inhaling, I could smell his guy-scent—a mixture of soap and deodorant of some sort. Whatever it was, it was spicy and male and I liked it. My eyes traveled the length of him and I knew he could feel them on him, but I was too tipsy to care, so I continued checking him out unabashedly while his gaze locked on the sky.
“Look,” he said as he pointed. “Bats.”
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