It was like she could read my mind, sometimes. "Yeah, yeah." I waved her off, watching her taller, slender figure disappear into the crowd and hating that I felt a note of jealousy throbbing in my chest. Why did she have the high-paying job, the good looks, the thin figure, and the confidence to just go up and hit on guys at a club like this? It felt like she'd been dealt all the good traits when we were born, and I ended up with the rejects.
I didn't belong out here at the club. I was too... too ordinary.
But still, I'd promised that I'd talk to one guy before leaving. And I would stick to the letter of my promise – I'd talk to one man, for just long enough to down this drink. And then, as soon as my straw drew air, I'd be out of this disgusting club and headed back home, where I could finally lower my shields and relax.
I looked around, trying to find a man who might be suitable to hold a few minutes' conversation. I wanted someone unthreatening, someone who wouldn't push my buttons too much.
I looked to my left, then to my right, and then straight ahead – and spotted one man, bearing down on me.
Oh god, no. Anyone but him.
"Hi," the creeper said to me.
Chapter Four
ALEX
*
I dropped back into the booth beside Tommy, my head reeling. He said something to me, but I didn't even hear his words. I barely noticed he'd spoken at all – until he reached out and prodded me, none too gently, with a finger just below my ribs.
"Hey!" I yelped. "What's that for?"
"I said, what's eating you, man?"
I finally looked over at him. In my absence, Tommy apparently managed to convince Tracie to come over and join him and Suzie on his side, and he leaned back with one arm wrapped appreciatively around each girl. Lexie, meanwhile, had attempted to wrap herself around me when I sat back down, but I hadn't paid the slightest attention, and her sultry smile had faded to a petulant pout. She looked, I thought suddenly to myself, like a monkey who'd been denied the banana it wanted.
"Nothing's wrong," I said, my mind still mostly elsewhere. Had I imagined it? Was that girl who'd told me to fuck off just a figment of my imagination? What if I really was crazy, and all of these great things that had happened to me because of my powers were just hallucinations? Was I trapped in a padded cell somewhere, my arms secured by a straitjacket?
"Baby, why don't you and I get out of here?" asked Lexie, leaning over to blow hot air against my ear. "I'm really horny, and I'd love to get you to fill me up and satisfy me – I know you'll be the best I've ever had..."
I waggled a finger at her. "Sleepy," I muttered, not even bothering to shape the command into a full sentence or phrase it as an even slightly believable turn of events.
It still worked. Mid-sultry-pout, Lexie's eyes rolled back in her head, and she dropped backwards onto the couch like a puppet whose strings had just been severed. Suzie and Tracie both giggled as their so-called friend passed out, mid-flirt.
Well, my powers still seemed to be working, and I didn't feel crazy. But I still couldn't forget about how that girl hadn't even wavered, hadn't shown the slightest hint of feeling my power working on her.
Was she another like me?
I frowned. With her plain brown hair, short little stature, baggy clothes that probably obscured a less than desirable figure? I doubted it. The first thing I'd done, upon discovering my powers, had been to improve my own appearance. Why wouldn't she have done the same?
So maybe she was the opposite of me, I next considered. Could it be that she wasn't affected by my powers at all because she was my perfect opposite? Short where I was tall, mean where I was tons of fun – it did seem to fit.
"Yo, Alex," Tommy called again, breaking into my thoughts with difficulty. "Really, you're acting strange. What's on your mind?"
I looked over at him, thought about not saying anything – but I'd told him everything else, so why not this? "I met a girl," I said slowly, looking over at him. "On the way to the bathroom."
"Hey, that's great! Go get her and bring her over here! The more the merrier, right?" He gestured at the VIP booth, which still had enough room for another few girls to squeeze in alongside us. And I should know – I'd made it my goal one night, a couple of months back, to pack every single attractive girl into the space that would possibly fit. It ended up being quite warm and sweaty, although definitely enjoyable...
"Not that kind of girl," I corrected Tommy. "I tried to use my powers on this girl already."
"So?" His brow furrowed. "I'm not following, Alex."
I took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh that sounded shaky even to my own ears. "They didn't work. Not at all, not even a little."
That made him blink, after the idea fought through the haze of drunkenness surrounding his brain. "Wait, what? Did you do it right?"
"Of course I did!" I think. It's not like I've got an instruction manual for my powers. They've just always, well, worked – up until now, when they suddenly didn't. Not on this girl. "But I even tried a second time."
"And?"
"Still nothing." I sat there on the couch for another minute, beside the now-snoring Lexie, before finally climbing up to my feet. I'd had quite a bit to drink myself, over the last couple hours, but this new mystery had wiped the drunkenness away from my brain. "I need to go figure this out, Tommy."
"Hey, no sweat off my nose." He tugged Suzie a little further onto his lap, pulling her long legs out of the way so that I could once again exit the booth. "But Alex?"
"Yeah?" I paused at the steps leading down to the club's dance floor, looking over my shoulder at him.
Tommy grinned, his devil-may-care look that got plenty of women interested in him, without my help. Of course, he still owed quite a lot to my help, but neither of us really liked to talk about that. Keep it in the past, where it belonged, I'd said when he occasionally tried to bring it up, and he was happy to go along with it.
"Use protection," he said, still smirking. "After all, if she's immune to your powers, her kids might end up being immune, too, and you'll have a bunch of resistant little toddlers running around and making your life hell!"
"You're as much help as a wet paper bag in a thunderstorm," I told him. I started to leave the booth, but then paused. "Oh, and just for that?"
"No, man, don't do it, come on, I'll be good-"
"For the rest of the night," I said clearly, tracing the words inside my brain as I spoke, "you'll feel like you need to piss like a racehorse whenever you get a hard-on."
Tommy's mouth dropped open – and then he knocked Suzie off to one side as he immediately crossed his legs over his dick. "You asshole," he groaned, his face screwed up into a wince.
"Have a good one." I ducked out of the booth before he could find something to throw at my head.
My smile, however, faded as I cast my eye across the crowded interior. What if this girl had left already? I didn't know how I'd be able to track her down, and she didn't exactly seem like the type that paid regular visits to places like this-
But no, I was still in luck. I spotted her, standing at the bar on the other side of the club and looking rather annoyed. She was talking to a taller, better-dressed brunette in a tight, professional but still sexy business suit. Now, that other girl, the taller one, was more my type. Uptight, probably, but all that tightness would probably come exploding out when I got her into bed, got my hands on that Pilates-toned body beneath her expensive business clothes...
No, I reminded myself. The friend, the shorter, dumpier-looking girl. She was the one that I needed to investigate. After I discovered why my powers hadn't worked on her, I could feel free to target her friend for a companion in bed tonight.
The friend had turned away, heading out on the dance floor, but I headed right for Ordinary Girl. The description really did fit her well, especially in those unflattering clothes. Maybe, if I figured out how to get my powers working on her again, I'd suggest that she pick up a new wardrobe. Hell, I'd be doing her
a favor.
Ordinary Girl's frown deepened as her friend left her alone at the bar. She turned to look left, then right – and then her eyes came back to center, landing on me as I advanced.
Shit. I'd been spotted.
For a second, she reminded me of a rabbit, poised to sprint away. But her fight-or-flight response resolved itself in the other direction, and she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. Not a friendly signal, but I approached nonetheless.
"Hi," I said.
"Funny," she countered, as I came within earshot in the noisy club. "I thought that a shit like you would have flushed himself down the toilet, not come floating back up."
Ouch. Damn, that stung a little bit, although I'd heard worse. "You're feeling friendly towards me, and want to give me another chance," I tried writing out inside my head, although I doubted it would work.
It didn't. Her glare remained firmly locked in place.
"Look, I came over here to apologize," I said. Might as well bite the bullet right away, not hold anything back. "I've been thinking about what I said before, and I was just drunk and really stupid for a second. I made an utter ass of myself."
Her glare at me didn't waver, and she shifted her stance a little. Something in the way that she now stood hinted that she might be considering a kick to my nuts, and I surreptitiously angled myself to face slightly away from her. Don't give her a straight shot, at least. "Really. And that's totally out of character for you."
"Not all the time, but I'm trying to fix it." God, how much crow did she want me to eat? "Come on, I came over here to apologize and beg forgiveness. What can I do to make it up to you?"
She raised an eyebrow, arching it up on her forehead. Actually, I now considered, her features weren't entirely horrible. If Ordinary Girl bothered to fix that plain brown, unkempt nest of hair, found some better fitting clothes, and maybe put on a little bit of lipstick and a touch of eyeliner, she'd be doing wonders for her appearance. There was a warm, cute face lurking beneath that serious frown, a set of features that, although not gorgeous on their own, managed to fit together in a pleasing way. I didn't have any intention of saying any of this, however, just kept up my gentlest smile.
"How about I buy you a drink?" I tried next. That always worked on the girls...
...except not, apparently, this one. "I'm going to be leaving in a minute," she stated. That eyebrow stayed raised, however. Was this a challenge?
"Great. Me too." Suddenly, the thought of going back to Lexie and her friends held no attraction for me at all. I could probably give my dick a rest for one night – and this girl was an intriguing mystery. How could I feel out if she had any special powers of her own, besides this strange resistance to my own? "Can I walk you out?"
"I've got pepper spray, you know." Her hand dipped down into one pocket of her baggy, unflattering pants.
Maybe my power didn't work on her... but did it work on things around her? Could I neutralize her pepper spray before she deployed it at me? Tough question, and not one that I especially wanted to answer through experimentation.
"That's cool," I answered, attempting to appear as unthreatening as possible. "I have very sensitive mucus membranes, so I guess we pair well together."
For an instant, I almost thought that she started to smile from the joke. She squashed it quickly, but I caught the little twitch of her lips. "I did promise Anna-Claire that I'd talk to one guy before leaving," she admitted. Anna-Claire, that must be her taller, more attractive friend in the business getup. "And at least with you, I don't need to worry about anything happening between us."
"Give me some credit," I tried, putting on my best smile.
It faded to dust under her glare. "You have two minutes," she stated flatly. "And then, I'm walking out. It's up to you whether you want to be still standing here when that happens – or on the floor, clutching your popped little nuts."
Well. She wasn't attacking me right away.
That was a start, wasn't it?
Chapter Five
PAXTON
*
Well, the creep is back. Apparently, he's still determined to talk to me for some reason, to apologize for his colossal act of shoving his foot down his own throat.
And me, being the fool that I am, I'd given in and agreed to hear him out.
Inside my head, I sighed at my own foolishness. Paxton, you really need to grow a spine, I admonished myself. Here I was, out at a club where I didn't want to be, listening to a man who, only minutes earlier, had commanded me to show him my tits. What was I doing with my life? At some point, clearly, everything had gone wrong. If I was at home, in my bath with a glass of wine and a book, I might think back and try to identify that zero hour, when it all went off the rails.
But I was here, still in the noise and the hubbub, leaning against this gross and sticky bar counter, listening to the creep talk.
He was saying some nonsense about how we didn't need to stand up, how he had his own VIP booth. Figures. He was probably one of those rich assholes who thought that, because they had a job that brought in the big bucks, they could get away with possessing zero manners. Anna-Claire knew a few guys like that from her own job, and they were all the same – big gasbags in desperate need of a stabbing.
This was a cute gasbag, at least, I reluctantly admitted to myself, looking at him as he talked. I didn't let any sign of my inner thoughts reach my face, carefully keeping it blank and expressionless, but... wow.
He was tall. I guessed that he stood an inch or two over six feet – a good twelve inches taller than me, unless I was wearing heels, which I wasn't. He had light brown hair, almost copper colored, gleaming and looking full and lustrous even in the unflattering club lights. That head of hair was cut in a stylish fade, but on top of his head, it couldn't quite hold in place and sprang out in invitingly tight little curls. Along with his flawless skin, the hair gave him the appearance of a Greek statue, the kind of man that might make Michelangelo bite through his chisel handle as he sprang to capture such beauty. Green eyes danced, somehow managing to sparkle even in the dim light of the club.
And he had a hell of a smile.
He flashed it at me in little bursts, not leaving it up for too long, as if he guessed that it might blind me with its brilliance. It revealed white, even teeth whenever he drew back his lips, set evenly like tombstones with no gaps between them. He could be a model in a toothpaste commercial. His lips, full and strong, curled up a little more at the right corner than the left, giving the grin a slightly crooked and incredibly endearing emotion.
That, I thought distantly to myself, was the kind of grin that could land just about any woman in bed, naked and willing, before a single thought had time to penetrate her head.
Penetrate. Bad word choice, I chastised myself as I once again thought longingly of that bath, warm and private, where I could let my fingers wander...
Wait. He'd said something to me, some sort of question. I hastily dragged my mind back from the edge of the chasm of thinking about how this creep would look spread out naked on someone's bedsheets.
"What was that? Sorry, I missed the question."
He didn't seem bothered overmuch by my rudeness. "I asked," he repeated, his lips still threatening to curve upward in another smirking little grin, "what's bothering you."
"Why do you think that something's bothering me?" I snapped back, my tone short and my words clipped.
He didn't answer, but just raised an eyebrow. Surprisingly shapely eyebrows, of course, I noted with a resigned sigh.
"Fine," I gave in, sensing that I wouldn't be able to hide such an obvious emotion from him. "I'm bothered because I hate every second of being in this place, and talking to you, and dealing with absolutely everything in my life. How's that for an answer?"
If I'd been hoping to scare him away with this response, it didn't seem to work. "It is pretty warm in here," he admitted. His eyes flicked down to my sweater. "You want to go outside and get some fres
h air?"
Was he making some sort of veiled comment about my outfit? I opened my mouth to tell him that I'd worn it on purpose, to communicate how much I didn't want to be here, but decided that it wouldn't help at all. Besides, he was giving me an out.
"Yes, that sounds like a good idea," I said. I turned and stalked away, towards the door, ducking into the crowd to leave him behind.
It didn't work, regrettably. A second later, he caught back up with me, and I muttered a silent curse to my genetics for giving me such short little stubby legs. "That was abrupt," he called out.
"I didn't mean for you to come out and join me." I tried cutting through an especially thick area of the crowd, but it ended up slowing me down more than it did the creep. Annoyingly, he seemed to know just how to tap people on the shoulder so that they automatically moved aside, instead of just turning and frowning down at me when I tried the same thing.
Finally, I hit the exit – and there he was, hitting me with another dose of that smile as he held the door open for me. I scowled back, but it had no effect. But inside my sweater, I could feel beads of sweat starting to trace their way down my skin, and I really did want a deep breath of fresh, clean air.
"So, are you just going to keep following me around like a lost puppy?" I snapped at the creep as he came out after me.
"Perhaps," he replied, shrugging. "I do have a pretty good puppy dog expression, if you want to see it."
"No!" I definitely didn't want to deal with the conflicting feelings of having an utter asshole looking all cute at me. "Look, what will it take to get you to leave me alone?"
He pretended to tap his chin as he considered an answer. "Two things," he finally replied.
"Yeah? What?" He better not ask me to flash him again. If he did, witnesses or no, I was going to kick his nuts up into his throat.
He held up one finger. "First, your name."
I scowled, but he just waited, clearly expecting me to fill the first request before he revealed the second. I took a moment to weigh the two sides.
The Sure Thing Page 3