Beautiful Collision

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Beautiful Collision Page 7

by Tori Alvarez


  I’m walking around, trying to find David so I can pass my party responsibility to him. I enter the private back room and find him pouring a glass of whiskey.

  “Hope you haven’t had too many of those, man. It’s your turn.” I jest with him, but I really hope I don’t have to pull another shift. These parties are getting fucking old. They may be a blast for the guests, but duty sucks.

  “Nah man. Just my second. Not looking forward to this. I’m done with parties for a while.”

  “Me too. If votes come up for another, we gotta veto the shit out of it.”

  David laughs as he clinks his glass to my can. I quickly give him the rundown while taking a couple of shots before leaving to find Toni.

  “Hey there!” I see Toni from behind and, having dosed myself in liquid courage, I wrap an arm around her waist and kiss the top of her head. I needed to feel her. She has kept things so cool with me; I had to do something to pacify this ache I have for her.

  “Hi,” she responds coolly. She quickly glances at me, and her body tenses as she pulls her body away just enough for me to feel the difference. “I need to use the ladies’ room.” She pulls away completely, walking away.

  I smile at the group, hiding my confusion, as Lola comes up and takes my arm. “She looks up at me and whispers, “Something happened. Don’t know what, but all of a sudden, she wanted to leave. I talked her into staying. Just so you know.” She squeezes my arm before letting go and falling back into conversation with the others.

  “I’ll be back,” I tell Lola before walking toward the restrooms.

  Making my way to the restrooms, another past fling, Julie, comes up to me. “Hey, Garrett!” These girls are trying to wear me down. They think if they keep pestering me, maybe I’ll change my mind about dating them. One date is usually enough to figure out how shallow they are. This one took a little longer.

  “Hey.” I keep it simple because she’s a needy one.

  “Dance with me.” She reaches for my hand and gently tugs me toward her.

  I pull my hand back a bit. “I’m tired tonight. I just pulled duty, and I’m looking for a friend.”

  “What friend? I can help.” She holds my hand a little tighter.

  “I don’t need help. Thanks. I need to go.”

  She comes up close, pressing her body flush to me. “Forget the friend. Let’s get out of here. We can head to your place.” Her suggestive tone is not to be missed.

  I hate this part. I don’t like being a dick to girls. I’m not an asshole, but damn, some of them are pushy and won’t take no for an answer. This one is definitely hard to shake. She was able to cover her shallowness for a few months. I step back, placing space between us. “Not a good idea. I’m not taking you home with me.”

  She steps closer, speaking in a hushed tone. “Why can’t we try again? You didn’t even give us a chance.”

  “Like I said, not a good idea.” What does she want me to tell her? I don’t want to date you because you have nothing to offer. This has taken too long, and I don’t want to miss Toni. I scan my surroundings, being near the restrooms, and I find her behind me, close enough to hear the conversation that just took place. Raising my brows at her for a little help, she smiles at me.

  “You can’t even look at me when I’m talking to you?” Julie is still speaking in a hushed tone, not wanting others to know I am turning her down.

  I look back at Julie, then to Toni, and mouth to her, “Well?”

  Toni strolls up, her shoulders pushed back just enough to dominate. The confidence she exudes is the sexiest thing I’ve seen. “Gonna keep me waiting any longer?”

  “No. Let me get you a drink.” I place my hand on her lower back before turning to Julie. “Have a good night. My friend found me.”

  Julie rolls her eyes at me, mumbling, “Whatever,” as she walks away.

  Back outside, sitting on a couple of chairs with fresh drinks in hand, we can finally talk without the blaring music. “Thanks. I needed saving.”

  “Ah, I think you could have managed yourself just fine. You seem to be Mr. Popular tonight.”

  “Mr. Popular?” I ask, confused.

  “I saw you with another girl earlier tonight. She also seemed insistent on picking you up.” Her voice has gone flat.

  “So you noticed me, huh?” I tease her. Was that the reason she was going to leave? Did she think I was going to be with another girl when I invited her to come?

  “It was hard not to. You were standing a couple of people away from me.” The nonchalant tone bugs me because I can’t read what’s happening.

  “I politely turned her down also. The second one was a bit more persistent.” She is watching me, and I don’t know where or how to change the conversation. “Did you want to go find Lola and the rest of your friends?”

  “Those are her friends, not mine. I don’t know anyone here. I could leave now and no one would be the wiser.” She shrugs.

  “I would be. I don’t want you to leave.” I grab her hand resting on the armrest, giving it a squeeze.

  “Yeah, well, maybe you would notice.”

  “Hey, guys! Come on over and jump in the beer pong game we have going,” Lola says, full of drunken cheer.

  I look at Toni for direction. “You in?”

  “Let’s go kick some ass,” she responds.

  The night progresses into a drunken frenzy of beer pong and tequila shots. Not what I had planned for getting to know her, but at least she didn’t leave before that kiss.

  Chapter 7

  Wanting

  Toni

  Restless sleep due to everything we drank last night is keeping me in bed well past my usual time. I thought I would head to the library this morning to get ahead on reading and projects, but here I continue to lie, thinking about that kiss.

  That kiss.

  “I’ve got to go. I want to get to the library and get some work done tomorrow.” I pull Garrett away from the beer pong tables where the tournament Lola helped coordinate is still going strong.

  “You can’t go. We are in the winning bracket,” he whines.

  “Yes, yes I have to. And I don’t think Lola is going anywhere soon, so I’ll need to find a ride.” I don’t want to spend the money on an Uber, but it is looking more and more like I would have to.

  “Okay, okay.” He wraps an arm around my waist and turns to the table. “We’re out,” he says, finishing with a fake salute.

  He is looking at his phone as he walks me to the front of the house. “An Uber will be here in about five minutes.”

  I turn and look at him, confused. “You didn’t have to. Thank you.”

  “Of course I did. I invited you, and I am in no shape to drive you home. This is the most gentlemanly thing I could come up with to get you home safe.”

  Adding this to the considerate things he does, I reach up and place my hand on his cheek. The scruffy five o’clock shadow gives his All-American look a rugged feel. I can see desire in his eyes, but he is keeping his cool. I am the one in control. I tip-toe up as I place my hand on the back of his neck to pull him down. When our lips meet, I feel a tingle travel all the way down to my toes.

  I am well aware of what a good kiss feels like, but last night with Garrett was different. I wanted to melt into him. He lips were firm but soft at the same time, inviting me in. His body strong against mine but not obscene. That’s what had me. He was in control the whole time, but didn’t push too fast. The kiss…that kiss…stayed a kiss which held a promise for so much more. He didn’t act like some guy who just wanted to hit it and quit it. When the Uber arrived, it took everything in me not to invite him home. I have never had a problem with that because I never invite guys to my place. But last night… Last night, I needed him. Pulling away to get in the car was a chore.

  I don’t know what is happening. Why am I reacting to him this way? How has he made me lose my senses? This is the most unnerving thing I have been through since I began this adventure to escape my past.r />
  Thoughts of him continue to swirl. Not accomplishing anything today is not an option. After another hour of letting myself dream of having another life, I get up and head to the library. I need to pick up another shift tonight if I’m going to make it through the year.

  Driving into the parking lot of the club is a relief with the amount of cars already there. Looks like I’m in for a good night.

  Sasha is behind the bar again, managing her controlled chaos. Anyone just walking in may think there is no real reason for what is going on, but Sasha has everyone and everything timed to perfection. There are always enough dancers walking the floor, entertaining, pause-times between dances, and all her cocktail waitresses are sectioned to ensure everyone is tended to for more sales and bigger tips. She is a genius in this business and the reason I only waitress exclusively here and don’t moonlight at different places depending on the nights. Many girls do. The more experience and clout gets you the bigger nights. I was able to get the bigger nights right off the bat thanks again to Alex. He called in a favor to Sasha. She brings in most of his referrals, and he trusts the people she sends his way.

  I quickly introduce myself to a couple of my tables, explaining I am taking over. I always give them the option of closing out and tipping the previous girl. I learned this unspoken code through Sasha. It helps you avoid the cattiness of the women.

  The night is progressing nicely as I’m trying to ignore the exhaustion setting in from last night’s drinks and partying. As I’m picking up a tray of drinks to deliver, Sasha stops me and hands me a Red Bull. “Drink up, princess. Tonight is not even halfway over.” She laughs at my startled expression. She has never needed to correct me in any way. I am always a professional when it comes to waiting tables, because I know it’s easy to fall from grace if you don’t get the job done right. Never bite the hand that feeds you. I guess I wasn’t hiding it as well as I thought. I open it and chug. No time to waste.

  “Hey, gorgeous,” Mark calls to me as I walk by a table to deliver drinks. He’s back, so my worries of not making enough for the year have just evaporated.

  “Give me a sec, honey.” I turn around to give him a wink. The night is looking up.

  Back at his table, I am instantly more alert. I scan his table of two other men dressed upscale-casual. Being with Mark the past year has given me a better insight into wealth. He has guided me through events, shows, and fancy dinners. It may not be politically correct to say, but it is very Pretty Womanish. He will come into town for business for a couple of weeks to a month at a time. When he’s here, I get nice meals, some fancy clothes, and extra money. This help keeps me afloat and able to splurge a bit.

  “Well hello, good looking.” I never greet him with his first name in front of clients, colleagues, or friends. Ours is a relationship no one knows about. “What can I get y’all?”

  “He is not the best looking one here at the table,” the man to his right chimes in. “How about you bring that nice ass this way, and I’ll let you know what we want.”

  He is right. Mark isn’t the most attractive one at the table. Mark is a normal, good-looking guy, but he is nice and takes care of me. Mr. Cocky is a true specimen. He looks taller than most with broad shoulders, chiseled facial features, and the clearest blue eyes. I would let him play his game here. I always do.

  “Well okay, confident sexy pants,” I greet him as I walk the couple of steps in his direction. “What can I get for your table?” I lean in slightly, placing my cleavage in his direct line of vision. Just like I thought, his look leaves my eyes and travels down, holding there for a few brief moments before he brings his gaze back up.

  “Three Blantons, neat.”

  Just as I’m about to turn away, fingers graze the side of my mid-thigh and slowly make their way up just under my skirt. He’s a bold son of a bitch. “Be right back!” I smile and step away.

  Men trying to cop a feel at a strip club is not a new thing. It makes me uncomfortable happening in front of Mark, but I guess he knows who he works with.

  The night progresses smoothly. The Red Bull from earlier had its desired effect, and last call is minutes away. My bed is calling my name already. Checking all my tables for any last-minute orders and closing customers out is going smoothly. I’m at the computer, running some cards, when a warm body comes up flush on my backside. I turn quickly, ready to slap the offender. The good-looking guy at Mark’s table leans closer, whispering in my ear, “I need to see you again.” He places a small kiss to my earlobe and shoves a napkin in my hand before walking away.

  While the banter we shared throughout the night was flirty and fun, I tried to keep it to a minimum. I still felt off doing this in front of Mark. If I think about it, Mark sees me with other tables and could assume so much more if he wanted. In this, I am choosy. Taking men home from the club is not good business—especially if they are repeat customers. The fantasy is gone once they fuck you.

  I shake off the surprise and continue closing the evening down. Once all my tables have cleared and I clean out my section, I pick up my purse from the back, having a bouncer walk me to my car.

  Driving home, I think of him. Charlie and a phone number were scribbled on the napkin. I ponder if this is something I would consider. I can’t say I’m a saint, never taking men home from the club. There have been a few, like a super-hot guy I swear must have been a model, and a couple of older men who like to take care of women. But like I said, the fantasy is gone. One hot guy was as stupid as stupid comes, and he was more concerned with his orgasm than mine. The older men were fine for a minute, but they had lives to attend to.

  Mark is the only one who I have enjoyed even when I looked behind the curtain. He’s attentive, caring, generous, cultured, and smart. He runs some app company, so he is constantly traveling. He doesn’t live here but keeps an apartment. I have been introduced to dinners at upscale restaurants I had never heard of—despite growing up in this city—and theater shows. I may not have a typical relationship with Mark, but it works for now.

  Garrett

  I can’t believe I let her leave. Wanting to take her to my place and show her just how good I could make her feel was all I wanted to do. But I didn’t. I’m letting her call the pace. She’s skittish, and I don’t want to push too hard and have her spook. Right now, she’s holding all the cards. I look around the small café students crowd to study. The never-ending coffee and reasonably priced snacks go a long way to keep the place busy all hours of the day.

  I have a couple of the new kids with me. I was tired of the walls in the frat house, so I suggested we move mandatory study hour here. I’ll probably have some explaining to do later, but I could not sit still anymore. At least here I have some distraction with the comings and goings of campus. It has nothing to do with the possibility of catching a glimpse of her. I’m not sure if this place is her thing, but it is worth it to find out.

  “What are you doing here?” Lola’s voice breaks my focus on the front door.

  “Mandatory study.” I wave my hand in the freshmen’s direction.

  “Isn’t that supposed to be done at the house?” Her brows furrow in. “They never let us leave the house during study hour.”

  “Yeah, well…I was tired of the house. I needed a change of scenery.” I try and sound as nonchalant as possible.

  Her laugh comes fast and loud. “Whatever, my friend. You’re looking for Toni.” Her laughter is contagious.

  “Nah,” I try and deny.

  “Yup. You got it bad, just like I told her.” She nods her head, confirming her own observation.

  “You told her?” Nervousness of her not giving me a chance if she thinks I’m a dimwit falling all over myself overcomes me.

  “Sure did. At the party. As soon as I met you, I knew.” She winks at me. “As you walked away, I saw her staring at that nice ass of yours. Thought I would help her out. If she knew you were in deep too, she wouldn’t be so hesitant.”

  “Huh?” I raise my index f
inger, asking her to pause. “No leaving this table, guys,” I direct the freshmen before getting up and pulling Lola with me to a corner. “I repeat, huh? She’s in deep?”

  “I’ve got a great sense about these things. My mom was a true romantic. We would people watch, and she was so good about picking up people’s body language and mannerisms. I learned. You both have it bad, but y’all are trying your damndest to hide it. At least, that is what I think.”

  She has it bad? Could she really? “When did you tell her?” I need to know if I’m going to have to do any damage control because this one thinks she’s cupid.

  “Like I said, as soon as I met you.” She looks at me like I have a third eye.

  “When I was still working my shift?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Her eyes roll.

  No damage control. Everything happened after.

  “Thank you.” I really did mean it. But the thought of her thinking of me is causing my jeans to get tight.

  Coffee tomorrow? I text her and wait. Several minutes pass by. I put my phone down and attempt to, at least, model good study behavior.

  Chapter 8

  What’s normal?

  Toni

  As much as it may not be a good idea, I type the word “yes” and hit send. I read his text and was planning on ignoring it. If I didn’t answer, eventually he would get the hint. But I couldn’t.

  I can’t even think about what I’m doing right now. Mark is in town. I’m meeting him tomorrow night. I can’t “date” and be a … what do I call myself? Is call girl still a thing? But call girl isn’t right. Men do not call me up and I head out. I choose when and if I want to. Prostitute? Not right either. We don’t always have sex. Sugar daddy? I guess that is the closest. But aren’t sugar daddies for girls with daddy issues? I don’t really have daddy issues. The majority of the men are scum, and I am not in denial about it.

 

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