“I said that while you’re there, you should try and catch one or two of her performances.” Michael paused for several seconds. “I just sent you her number. She’ll be able to give you the details.”
“Sure.” The thought of seeing her made me smile. “It’s been years since I’ve seen her. And I’ve never seen her perform.”
“She’s really good.”
We chatted for a little while longer before Michael got paged to deal with a patient.
I pressed the red button and looked at the contact he just sent to me. It would be good to see her again. What did I have to lose?
Justin: Hey there, it’s Justin. Michael gave me your number.
Chapter 2
Angela
I join my teammates standing against the wall at the back of the arena. One of the fun parts of attending school competitions is cheering for competing squads. Usually I’m whooping and clapping along with them but today I’m a bit distracted. Instead, I’m checking my phone.
For the hundredth time I scan over the text exchange with Justin. To say I was shocked would be an understatement. But in a good way. It’s been such a long time since we’ve done more than like each other’s posts on social media.
Angela: Hey! It’s been a while
Justin: Your brother suggested I catch one of your performances while I’m in town.
Angela: You’re in Vegas?
Justin: Until Saturday Morning.
I’m not thrilled with the butterflies that took up residence in my stomach at that news. I mean, I had a crush on him in high school, sure. But that was over a decade ago. I’m over that. But I cannot deny that judging by the photos he’s posted online he was attractive. But come on. I meet a lot of attractive men. Some of them are even on my squad.
Angela: I’d love for you to come and watch one of my routines. I’m on at 10am and 4.50pm each day this week. Just let me know when you’re available.
Justin: I can do tomorrow afternoon.
Angela: Send me your details and I’ll have tickets sent to your hotel for you.
As it turns out he's staying at the same hotel as the competition. He’s attending the convention taking place at the hotel.
The team around me cheers as the team on stage finishes off with a perfect pyramid. Not an easy feat for an all-girl middle school team. The entryway opens as another team of girls leave to go backstage. Teams are supposed to be backstage half an hour before their performances so they’re like the last one for the day. I usually let my team hang around until about five to ten minutes before we go on stage. They’re adults so I don’t need to corral them.
Once the team has left, the ushers allow another batch of people in. Some girls who had performed earlier come walking in, ready to catch the last few routines of the afternoon. Some of them have taken out their bobby pins and loosened their hair. But all of them are in uniform sweats as per competition rules.
My squad is not subject to the same rules, but we do adhere to it. For one thing it’s tradition to not show off your costume off stage. And also, most of our costumes are… well, less than modest.
The girls are followed by a stream of parents who were trying to help their kids get ready. Trying, being the operative word. Most of them hover, overcrowding the dressing room and stressing their children out. Generally making things worse, not better. Mostly mothers but since the sport was becoming more popular among boys too, you’ll find dads in the boys dressing rooms as well. One of the men walking through the entryway is not a dad, however. I have to concentrate to ensure my jaw doesn’t drop to the floor.
Tall, with broad shoulders, he was hard to miss. I’d recognize that dark blonde hair and chiseled jaw anywhere. He’s wearing a pair of dark slacks and a pale blue button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. Like he’d come straight from a meeting and just ditched his suit jacket.
The seat I got him was right at the back where he could still see the stage but come and go easily if he needed to. He hasn’t spotted me, and he eases his way to the seat a few spots from the aisle. He’s diagonally across from me and I have the perfect view of his ass before he sits down.
I clench my fingers, mimicking digging them into those cheeks. I swallow and drag my eyes away from him and force them to look at the team on stage. Lilly elbows me in the ribs and nods her head toward Justin.
“Hottie Single Dad over there.”
I smile and shake my head. “Hands off.”
Lilly’s eyebrows reach her hairline. “You’re single for barely a weekend and you’re calling dibs. I’m impressed. Miss Goodie Two Shoes is getting her groove on.”
The nickname used to bother me in the beginning. I’m not exactly an angel. Sure, I’m the captain of the squad, and until a few days ago, one of a few of us in a stable relationship. And honestly, I’ve been pretty responsible in both those roles. But historically I’ve been pretty reckless. Case in point, I gave up my spot on Seattle’s Football cheer squad on the off chance I would get a spot on this squad. It worked out and I don’t regret that decision, but it seems I’m still that same reckless girl. I quit this job without a clear plan of what I’m going to do.
“It’s not like that. He’s my brother's best friend. A good friend of my family.”
“And judging by how you can’t take your eyes off him, you’ve also noticed that he is off-the-charts hot.”
Rolling my eyes, I look at her. “Of course, I’ve noticed. But he’s off limits. For both of us.”
“Oh no.” A clap through the audience forces both of us to pay attention to the stage. “One of us needs to be doing that. And you need it more than I do.”
“How do you figure that? I just came out of a stable relationship.”
“Precisely. You need a rebound guy.”
She clapped and cheered the team on stage who performed a great synchronized tumble set. It wasn’t perfect but it was pretty damn good. I joined in the cheering. These girls could use the encouragement.
The loud noise garnered the attention of some people, and the people on the back row turned to look at them.
Justin turns around and his gaze immediately finds mine. Our eyes lock. My mouth goes dry, and yet I still swallow hard. My stomach doing those funny little flip-flops.
“And he’s interested.” Lilly’s whisper breaks the moment and I blink.
My lips twitch in what I hope is a smile and I give him a small wave. He winks at me, and I swear, my ovaries practically explode. Despite everything happening around us, we don’t break eye-contact. I make a circle motion indicating he should be watching the stage. Instead, he nods to the entryway. I read his mind immediately and nod.
“I’ll be right outside,'' I say to Lilly.”
“We’re up in twenty,” she says, checking her wristwatch. “And for goodness sake, ask him out.”
I stick my tongue out at her and make my way to the exit. Justin doesn’t bother to push past the other people in his row. Instead he opts to climb over the seat and joins me at the exit.
Before we’re even a couple steps from the entryway, Justin pulls me into his arms. It’s a hug to end all hugs. “God, it’s so good to see you.”
“You too,” I say, inhaling him. My arms automatically move around his waist and up his back. His body’s hard but warm, and I cannot feel anything but safe in his embrace. He feels like home. We hold on to each other a lot longer than is necessary. He pulls away first and looks down at me. His hands rest on my hips “You’re looking good.”
I smile and rake my gaze over him. “So do you. Silicon Valley has treated you well.”
“Well, here’s hoping Seattle does too.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re moving back home?”
He nods. “I moved back two weeks ago. Michael mentioned you’ll be moving back too.”
“Yeah. I have one more week of work and then next week I’ll be packing my stuff.” Making small talk with him doesn’t feel like a filler. Maybe beca
use it’s been so long since we’ve caught up with each other.
My phone buzzes and I check it. “That’s my ten-minute call. I need to get backstage.”
As I’m debating whether or not to ask him out, he holds two fingers under my chin. “Want to get a drink when you’re finished for the day?”
I’m tempted to flirt, or even tease him, but I’m afraid I’ll get tongue-tied. “Sure, I’ll be done in about an hour.”
Justin
It takes nearly the full ten minutes for the semi in my pants to subside. From the moment our eyes locked, I was done. Those cocoa eyes pulled me in. Nothing seemed as important as getting her alone. Not that there was much opportunity for that. I want her, and that makes no sense.
She’s decidedly off limits. Not only is she my best friend’s little sister, our families are friends too. We have no choice but to be in each other’s lives. It’s best to stay away from her. That seems like the safest, most rational thing to do. At least that’s what my over-analytical brain is telling me. But I know I won’t.
Maybe it’s the fact that we’re in Vegas and both of us will be back to normal in Seattle soon. Maybe it’s the fact that she’s hiding her gorgeous curves underneath those team sweats. The moment she was in my arms, I wanted to hold on tight and never let go.
Asking her out will probably get me into trouble but I don’t care. It’s one drink to catch up. I can control myself. Just because I was instantly attracted to her doesn’t mean that I’ll try and get her into my bed. I won’t.
Sure, she was beautiful. Beneath all that make up and teased dark hair there was no ignoring her dark eyes and pouty mouth. It wasn’t like I was picturing those lips around my dick. I wasn’t. And crap, I’m getting hard again.
I take a few moments thinking about baseball stats before making my way back into the arena. As I’m taking my seat the master of ceremonies announces, “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, The Vegas Dynamite, for our final performance of the day.”
One of Justin Bieber’s earlier songs plays through the arena’s speakers and a blonde woman springs perfectly across the mat. Then another does the same thing from another corner. Angela is at the center of three women coming up the center of the stage.
As I watch the performance, I’m struck dumb. There are easily twenty people on stage, but I only have eyes for her. And it’s not just lust. Not that her moving around in that tiny turquoise skirt and matching cropped top is not hot as hell. Because, fuck, it is.
Watching her is so much more than sexual. I try and ignore the tinge of jealousy as the men on stage lift her up and throw her around. I don’t really want to analyze that. Beyond all of that, I am in awe. She’s agile and poised, but she’s also strong. She takes her teammates onto her shoulders with ease. She has perfect balance as one of the guys holds one of her feet and she holds her other leg up to her ear.
There’s something about the performance that gives me the impression she choreographed it. There was something a little playful about it and I can only imagine her in a studio somewhere working out the dance moves. She obviously loved what she was doing. Why was she giving it up?
They end the performance with a perfect pyramid, Angela taking a teammate on her shoulders. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the guy below her gets her safely to the floor. The audience goes wild cheering and hollering. The squad is obviously popular among the competition participants.
I allow the rest of the row to leave before making my way back outside. We didn’t make arrangements on where to meet so I send her a text.
Justin: I’m waiting at the entryway where you left me earlier.
Angela: I need to shower and get all this gunk off my face. I need to go home first. Should we meet at the bar in about an hour?
I don’t like the idea of leaving her for even a little bit.
Justin: Do you have a change of clothes?
Angela: Yes, why?
Justin: You could just shower in my room. Will save you some time.
Rethinking it, my message probably sounds a little presumptuous. I quickly send a follow up text.
Justin: You can just shower. No funny business. I promise.
Angela: Oh, damn. And I was so looking forward to some funny business.
I smile. That’s the flirty Angela I remember. Only now, I’m perfectly comfortable flirting back.
Justin: I promised no funny business. It will take a lot of convincing to make me go back on my word.
Angela: Is that a challenge Mr. Ellis?
Justin: Most definitely Ms. York.
Angela: Okay. Just let me pack up here. I’ll be sure to bring my seduction skills with me. I may be a little rusty. It’s been a while since I’ve needed to seduce someone.
Justin: I look forward to you practicing on me.
I plant myself on a bench just outside the arena. I attempt to check my emails and other messages from my assistant. I’m not successful. Instead I choose to check out Angela’s Instagram page. She seems to be a bit of an influencer. Not to the same extent as Lia but as captain of the Dynamite she has a substantial following.
Her profile is a lot tamer than I would’ve guessed. There’s a lot of photos of brunches with friends, and unboxing new costumes. There are very few photos with her ex and even fewer of her enjoying a girl’s night out.
I’m not sure if it’s who she really is, or if it’s part of the brand she’s created for herself as team captain. My guess is somewhere in between. Her profile seems to center around showing off Vegas in a responsible way. I scroll through the photos, always stopping at the close ups and just enjoying that smile.
“Hey!” She’s back in her sweats and I cannot help but wonder if she's wearing that skimpy outfit underneath. “I’m ready to go.”
I stand and take the bag she has slung over her shoulder. “Do I get to watch you remove your war paint?”
“It’s not all that exciting.”
“I think watching you transform from your show persona to your regular self will be more intriguing than you think.”
I take her hand as if it’s the most natural thing in the world and lead her through the crowd and inside the hotel.
A blonde girl, probably about thirteen, walks up to her. “Ms. York. Can you sign my T-shirt, please?”
“Of course.” She let’s go of my hand and takes the marker from the girl. “Which school are you from?”
“Lakeview Middle School in Atlanta.” The girl is bubbling with excitement. “Is this your boyfriend?”
Angela shakes her head. “Justin is a friend from my hometown.”
She signs the T-shirt with her neat handwriting, leaving a note of encouragement for the girl. After a selfie together and a hug, we make our way to the elevator. I rest my hand on her lower back. I can’t help but touch her. I need it like I need oxygen.
“Does that happen often?” I ask as we step into the elevator. The bellboy in the elevator takes my card. We’re not alone, so he doesn’t swipe it immediately.
“More with the middle schoolers, but often enough with high schoolers, too.” She fidgets with her zipper, not meeting my eyes. “It never happens at the college level. But then they know we’re looking for recruits at that stage.”
Once it’s just us and the bellboy, he swipes the card and presses the PH button. I guide her out of the elevator and down the short hallway to my suite.
“The main bathroom’s down the hallway, first door on the right.” I look over at her and offer a smile. “The one off the master bedroom has better lighting if you need that.”
“That’s one way to get me into your bedroom.” She’s chewing her lower lip, driving me wild in the process.
I walk up to her and cup her face in my hand. “When I’m attempting to get you into my bedroom, you’ll know. I won’t need to make up an excuse.”
“If, not when,” she says, and I lift a brow in confusion. “If you were attempting, not when.”
“No
. I got it right. It’s a matter of when.”
Chapter 3
Angela
An hour later I’m showered, my face is clean and I’m infinitely more comfortable in a floral sundress. I slip on a pair of ballet flats and make my way back to the living area.
A blue sectional sofa takes up most of the center of the room, with a wide screen television fitted against the wall. With its sleek lines and modern finishes, the room is rather peaceful. Perfect for a businessman who has spent all day in meetings.
Over at the large glass dining table, Justin sits with his back to me tapping away on his laptop. He’s also changed into jeans and a T-shirt. His bare feet are crossed over on the chair opposite him. It’s sexy as hell seeing him so comfortable.
“You smell heavenly,” he says without turning around. “I just need to finish off this email, then we can head out.”
I don’t say anything, just watch the slight movements of his shoulder muscles under his T-shirt as he carries on typing. I move closer, as silently as I can. I don’t want to interrupt. He turns around and his eyes widen
“I look different without all the makeup, right?” I spend so much of my time with foundation caked all over my face, I relish wearing no makeup.
He swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing at his throat. “You’re beautiful. With or without makeup. But I prefer you like this. It’s closer to the Angela I remember.”
“The Angela you remember had an unfortunate, and awkward, crush on you.” I sit on the chair alongside him. “I’d rather you not remember that.”
He shuts down his email program and closes his laptop. “Oh, come on, it was adorable.” He turns to face me. “A little amusing yes, but adorable, nonetheless. Besides, you look like you’re past any school girl crushes.”
Shifting in the chair, I pivot to face him. “You’d think, right? But that’s what these life changing decisions are about. I need to grow up at some point.”
Married With Me: A With Me In Seattle Universe Novel Page 2