by Pamela Ann
Okay, the guy liked to exaggerate, but I wouldn’t lie. It felt marvelous to be spoken about like that.
Before we left, he instructed me to text him for appointments next time, preferably every three weeks to take care of the roots. Then, after the salon, we headed to MAC cosmetics and almost bought out every single artifice the quirky, talented artist recommended to me. By the time we got to shop for clothes, I was drained from all the madness of the afternoon. Since the gays weren’t sympathetic to my tired plight, they sat me down with a diet soda while they chose clothes for me.
Not only were they too ecstatic about it, but they seemed to run amuck with the whole “goddess in red”.
“You guys realize I do need to wear other clothes that aren’t red, right?”
“Yes, we do, but we’re on a mission.” Manolo smiled at me before all three of us headed to the counter so I could pay for the clothes, consisting of sexy tops and dresses and not much else.
My father had given me a budget for my shopping and strict orders that I should only go over that specified amount on his AMEX card if it were an emergency. Therefore, when the nice lady told me the glaring total amount, I silently prayed Dad wouldn’t be too pissed about it. I could always argue that I hadn’t shopped in forever.
For dinner, we ordered in pizza at Manolo and Chuey’s apartment located a few blocks away, so I didn’t bother going home to change for tonight. They intended to party while they hunted down men—yes, plural—as my potential juicy prospects. They had forever altered my view on the word “juicy.”
Their place was surprisingly understated and quite minimal when compared to them. I wasn’t sure what to really expect, but maybe a touch of animal print somewhere would be an idea. However, black leather and silver everywhere with sparing bold touch of crimson red in between dominated the place.
With dinner out of the way, the boys carried on with showering and getting ready while I busied myself with the new purchases. The makeup, I admitted, was something to get used to. Pink and soft was what I normally aimed for, but tonight was a whole new me, and the color red gave me quite the empowerment. It gave the saying “woman on the prowl” a whole new meaning.
It was bizarre, but I had never felt this confident, as if I were ready to command and conquer. It was all mental, of course. I had nothing to command nor conquer. Still, it felt good to feel bold and daring.
Still donning my black jeans, I simply had to change my top to a stretchy, red, tight-hugging top with a plunging neckline and a nonexistent back.
Tonight, I was introduced to a different world full of laughter, vibrant colors, and a new approach to seeing men. And mind you, I did get prospects. Lots of them.
Chapter Fifteen
His name was Cori Oliver. He was tall, dark, and a total badass freestyle motocross motorcycle racer who had playboy juice written all over him. How could I decline him when he’d asked me out for a date last night? It was a bad omen to jump from one player to the next, but there was no harm in this one since I didn’t have hopes of making it into a relationship, just some good ol’ flirty fun.
After tonight’s date, I had two more scheduled during the week: Monday with Wade then with Mason come Friday. Juggling school and dating should be interesting, but hey, this was what nineteen-year-olds were supposed to do and not pine for that one guy who was clearly unattainable.
So here I was, nervously excited as I got ready for tonight’s date with Cory
My hair was bouncy and loose, cascading down my back, as I slipped into a short, red silk cocktail dress that stopped mid-thigh. It had dainty straps with an open front that stopped right above my cleavage and exposed my entire back. I paired it with my favorite gold, strappy Manolo Blahnik; smoky eyes; and with the red lipstick that made me feel like a different woman. With my tanned skin, everything seemed more striking.
We were meeting at La Sirena on 9th Avenue at half past eight. With my clutch in hand, I was stepping out of my room when my phone beeped to tell me that Spencer had just texted me. Jackson and they were going somewhere tonight, and he was asking if I was going to come and join them.
Ever since that movie night, I hadn’t seen him.
I had already informed Jackson that I was going out tonight, much to his surprise. Like always, he had grilled me for more info, and like always, I had to stop him from being such a nag.
“Jacks, I’m going now!” I called out as I texted Spencer back, telling him that I had already made plans. Then the front door opened, and in came Drew, looking sinfully hot, more than ever.
“Hello.” Giving him a strained smile, I cleared my throat before nodding my head. “And, um, good-bye. Have a good night.”
“Where are you going dressed like that?” His eyes burned my skin as he scanned me from head to foot with his chest heaving, eyes darkening, befuddled and nonplussed.
“Oh, she’s on her way to a date with some biker dude.” Jackson came out of nowhere with only his towel wrapped around his hips and a smaller towel to dry his hair. “Shocking, right? Booger face is growing up fast.”
“You’re letting her out with a stranger, dressed like that?” Drew pointed to the hem of my dress then my cleavage, as if to make a blatant point to Jackson that I was indecently dressed. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Jackson!”
Not again.
“Stop it! I’m running late. You guys don’t hear me say anything about what you do with the girls you hook up with, so both of you kindly shut the fuck up!”
Jackson shrugged and muttered something about how it was totally different for them, but I wasn’t having it. I was ready to tackle both of them so I could get out of there and avoid running late for my first official date. Tonight marked my revival to a whole new me.
“Fine, but try to appease us by downloading this app called Glympse that tells us where you are at all times.” Drew blew out a breath as if he’d been holding it for far too long as he gazed at me intently.
I impatiently glared at him then toward Jackson.
“I’m all for that idea. I think it’d save me from worrying too much,” Jackson wholeheartedly agreed.
“Ridiculous! Stalking is fucking illegal! You guys are being so annoying!” Grumbling, I huffed out loud as I pulled out my phone, knowing I wouldn’t be able to win this argument.
Unlocking my phone, I grunted out some nasty words for the both of them while trying to locate this app. It took a few minutes to download and set up before I had to link everything.
When my phone beeped, indicating a message from Cory, I knew I had to dash. Without saying anything to the two nosy men in my life, I left, thinking of the most colorful words I could to describe how pathetically archaic they were both acting. For the most part, Drew was really trying to push my buttons, riling me up so that I would be too distracted to go out. Then I would be stuck at home all night while they both partied with the next bimbo.
Composing myself, I closed my eyes and counted to ten before stepping off the elevator. “I’m ready. I can do this. Yeah, I can do this.” Cory Oliver would be a mighty fine distraction. He would make me forget about Drew, even if only for a few hours.
I was living for myself and no one else. Progress, that was what this was all about.
★
Drew
“You doing something tonight? I’m going out with the boys, and you’re more than welcome to come.” Jackson called out behind me even though he knew Spencer was the last person I wanted to spend my Saturday night with.
Clearing my throat, I spun on my heel and faced him. “I have this dinner …” I heard myself say while my mind wandered toward Chloe and where she might be heading for this date of hers.
Jackson nodded, saddened that I had declined his invite. “Aiight. Well, you might change your mind, so I’ll text you the spot just in case you wanna swing by later or whatever.”
Making an effort to look more interested, I tried to smile before running a hand through my hair. “Yeah, bro, that’
s cool.”
What a fucking mess. Jackson was reaching out, and as any good friend would, I should meet him halfway, but I couldn’t. Fuck, my mind was going a hundred miles per minute, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
Had that really been Chloe Armstrong? The girl I had looked after all these years? The very same girl who had followed me wherever I went? The one who had taken great pains that one summer to learn surfing just so she could be around me all the time? The once sixteen-year-old girl who had tried to hide her tears when she’d found me kissing someone else, but managed to give me the brightest of smiles the next morning? That woman in the red dress was not the same woman I had left aching for my kiss.
My little cupcake was growing up, and I wasn’t sure how to handle her … or myself for that matter. Everything in me was going haywire, going mental. I wasn’t sure if I should chase after her or be the man I ought to be and let her live her life as she should. It was a fucking conundrum, one I had yet to figure out.
Chloe was beautiful before, but with this new transformation … She had become a siren who gave zero fucks about anything, which was troubling more than anything. I had been gone almost a week—six days to be precise—and I came home to this.
From the way she’d used those smoky, enchanting eyes to those pouty red lips, her body language, and her silky skin on proud display, everything about her had screamed one thing and one thing only: SEX. She had radiated it with confident gusto. Fuck, she had even smelled like it, too.
Before this new transformation, I had been successful at blocking myself from giving in by losing myself to booze and countless women. At this instant, though, I was beginning to doubt my unyielding perseverance.
It was disgustingly shameful how I felt toward her. She was Jackson’s baby sister. Heck, at one point, I had treated and seen her like she were mine, too. Nevertheless, as the years had worn on and with my uncontrollable testosterone raging, it had become hard not to notice her.
Her presence put me at ease, calming me when my mind was a stressful riot. Beautiful Chloe with a smile that would sometimes make me forget my own pain, filling the dark void with her laughter and kindness.
Before my grandmother died, she was the one who took care of me when my own mother was oblivious to everything around her. Years of drowning in alcohol and drugs could do that to a person, so when she died, I didn’t have much to mourn, because she had barely been present in my life. Even still, the darkness, the loneliness she left me with hadn’t abandoned me since. It was Chloe’s persistence and kind words that made me decide to do something with my life.
Then the attraction grew, though I hid it for as long as I could … until that one night. I lost all control, gave in, and it had been hell to live my life, knowing I couldn’t give her what she sought from me. I didn’t want to get too close, because every woman in my life I had cared about had died. Keeping her at arm’s reach was safer for the both of us.
But tonight, this uncontainable anger possessed me the second I walked in and found out she was going on a date, looking like a sex kitten ripe for the picking. My dick twitched at the sight of her. I didn’t have to guess what would occupy the guys’ minds the moment they laid eyes on her.
And those boobs. Don’t get me started on those. Fuck. They looked so fucking deliciously good, mouthwateringly perky, soft, and just the perfect size for my hands to grab on to. The old Chloe was beautiful, but this newly evolved metamorphosis version of her was unsettling me more than I liked to admit.
It shouldn’t affect me, but it did.
The way she looked at me tonight, as if I mattered so little, as if I were a pest she couldn’t wait to discard and get away from. Seeing her react to me like never before … Well, that kind of hurt. I didn’t expect her to be so defiant, so cold and disinterested.
I muttered something incoherent as I strode to my room. So much for coming home early, hoping she and I could talk about what had happened last week. Little did I know she had meant it when she’d announced she was considering dating other people. I had thought I would be okay with it. Fuck, I even encourage it. Obviously that backfired.
It’s hard enough that I hated myself for feeling this strong attraction toward her. I couldn’t just forgive myself for being the fucking idiot who promised her a week ago that I needed time to man up to be in a relationship with her when I’d had no intention of fulfilling that promise. It had been a mad impulse, stemming from jealousy that she was thinking about other guys. And finding her with that arrogant fucktard hadn’t helped the demons that were already hounding my head. Tonight, she had added some motocross fucker onto that stupid list.
My head pounded so hard I felt as though it was about to implode.
After losing control that night I had taken her virginity, I had vowed never to cross that line again. And I had been successful at taking care of her without any regards to my needs. In my mind, it was my way of making amends for stealing what hadn’t been mine to begin with.
But having images of her moaning while under another man’s body made it hard for me to breathe. It was as though something were suffocating me, as if my insides were being ravaged by some foreign matter, and I had no way of stopping it from eating me alive.
“Fuck!” Hissing as I took my shirt off, I was taken by surprise when a knock rapped on my door, giving me a short reprieve from spiraling out of control.
I was heaving heavily when Jackson popped his head in.
“I’m heading out,” he said casually.
Making a careless nod, I ran a furious hand through my hair, despising myself over how things were between us. “Cool. I’ll see if I can come by later.”
“Yeah,” he said warily. “I guess it’s a good thing she’s going out—Chloe, I mean. I’m glad she stopped crushing on you, you know? Not like anything was going to happen ’cause she’s like a sister to you, too, but I don’t think she cared much about it.” He laughed with blatant relief on his face. “She’s not your type, thank God. I would’ve been weirded out about it.”
Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I tried to act detached and casual, as if this conversation were boring me to tears. “Yeah, me, too.” A strained laugh came out of my mouth, though I felt no less than a fraud. If he only knew what I had done to his sister, he would probably murder me with his bare hands.
“Aiight, then.” He tapped the doorframe before throwing me a nod. “Hit me up or whatever.”
“Yep.” I blew out my response, relieved he was leaving so no one could witness how fucked up I was.
Upon his departure, my mind ran rampant with thoughts again. If being pulled in both directions weren’t stressful enough, apprehension had seized me as I weighed the possibility of Chloe really going all the way with this biker dude tonight. She wasn’t that type of girl. I knew she wasn’t. Regardless, considering how Spencer had almost gotten what he’d wanted by caging her against the wall, I supposed it was inevitable once she had alcohol in her system. Add in the other major factor that she was responsive as hell, bent on making a valid point, and horny beyond recognition, and she was the perfect candidate for hitting the sack with some guy she found attractive and shared some decent amount of chemistry with.
Basing from her look earlier, I didn’t have to guess wildly. She was attracted to the guy, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, so I decided to jump in the shower, hoping it would cool my head and give me a new perspective.
That trick didn’t do much to abate the inferno.
Once I got out, my mood and temper had shifted from worse to bedlam. I didn’t bother drying myself before I hunted down my phone to check where she was right this instant.
It disclosed that she was presently in a restaurant, most assuredly enjoying her date with biker dude, probably flirting her way through each course, teasingly biting each morsel while letting the guy eye-fuck her from across the table.
Fuck! Triple fucking shit. She was screwing with my head, and for the first time i
n my sinful life, I had no idea how to make it fucking stop.
She was getting through to me, and not just physically and mentally. Chloe was giving me the feels, and I didn’t appreciate it one fucking bit.
★
Chloe
“That was delicious. Thank you.”
Dream. It felt like a total dream to be sitting across from this fun, dirty talking, devilishly sexy, roughened man who had no reservations over detailing how he would explicitly seduce me from start to finish.
Starved, that was what I would call myself because nothing seemed to offend me when he referred to stripping me slowly during enjoying the appetizer. The entrée was so graphic it left me blushing, and if it weren’t for the wine to help me relax, I probably would have fainted when he went for an encore. By the time I finished with my tiramisu, I had one thing on my brain.
“Ready to take this elsewhere?” He asked.
Letting out a nervous laugh, I licked my lips and took a careful sip of my water. As much as I was attracted to him, I needed more time to adjust before diving into sweet disaster.
“Sure, but I was hoping we could stop by to say hi to my friend you met last night. He’s a bartender, so I figured, you know, we can have a few more drinks before … um … taking it elsewhere.”
Cori hid back a smile, pressing his lips while he toyed with his Red Bull vodka. “If you think that’ll make this more comfortable for you, Chloe, then I’ll go wherever you want. As long as you end up where I need you to be, I have no problem waiting.”
Holy crap! Talk about a man on a mission. Hopefully Manolo’s wit would help me loosen up.
While Cori took care of the bill, I decided to text Chuey to meet us. Those two were a great distraction and a needed breath from Cori’s relentless pursuit. Yes, he was fucking hot, but a girl could only take so much flirting.
Arriving at the bar, I saw Chuey was there with his date, a guy named Jordy. Since they had met last night, it wasn’t difficult to slip back to easy conversation. So while they grilled him, I had a moment to gather my bearings, resume my love for Jack and Coke, and simply enjoy the company and surroundings.