Eight Steps to Alpha: A Nerdy by Nature Novel

by Taylor Sullivan

  Every time the bull bucked forward, she allowed the movement to roll through her body—like an ocean wave to the shore. Every time in rolled backward, Elliot was there to catch her, holding her securely between his thighs.

  “TEN, NINE, EIGHT.” Hollering came from the bar and she opened her eyes.

  “We’re almost done, Fe. Oh my God, we’re done it.” His voice was low in her ear, excited, but somehow vulnerable.

  “SEVEN, SIX, FIVE.”

  “We did it Fe, we did it.”

  “FOUR, THREE, TWO…”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, surprised by the fact she didn’t want this moment to end. “ONE!”

  The bull stopped immediately, and she was lifted from the steed by the DJ and plopped on the ground. He threw his arm around her shoulder, and waited for Elliot to join them on the other side. He lifted both of their hands in the air and yelled to the crowd. “And that ladies and gentlemen, is how you ride a bull!”

  Chapter 13

  It was nearly ten that evening when Fe ran up the stairs to their second story apartment. His blood was still racing from their ride at The Barn. Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. Fe seemed to share the same effect however, because she was energized, excited, as she spun around and turned to face him. “I can’t believe they paid for our dinner,” she stated.

  He joined her up at the landing, pulled the keys from his pocket and grinned. “We should’ve ordered more food,” he drawled. But the truth was, everything about the night was perfect. The conversation, the food, the bull, and he knew he couldn’t have eaten another bite.

  When the door sprung open, Elliot let out a relieved breath, finding the apartment empty. Colton had said he’d be gone, but growing up with his brother, he always took promises with a grain of salt.

  The apartment was messy, yes, scattered with Colton’s things on every surface, but he didn’t care. He plopped the grocery bags on the table, then began to gather up Colton’s belongings. T-shirts, jeans, toiletries, until his arms were full, and he threw them to the chair in the corner of the living room.

  “You’re sure you want to do this?” Fe hollered at him, right before setting the brown bag of alcohol down on the table.

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked toward her. “Sure do.” But honestly, he wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

  “Have you ever been drunk before?” she asked him.

  He lifted one eyebrow, wondering if she was testing him, or just playing dumb. “You’ve seen me drunk before, remember?” Which was true…. And it wasn’t even that long ago.

  She blushed a little, then pushed a clump of hair back behind her ear. “I mean with the hard stuff. Have you ever been that drunk?”

  He shook his head, clenching his teeth as he shook his head. “Not that I can recall.”

  “Okay.” She pulled the top off the whiskey bottled, and cringed. “It hits you faster than other alcohols. Harder.”

  It was comical really, Fe being the one doing the explaining, because he was pretty sure she was just as inexperienced as he was. “Okay.”

  “And sometimes, people have different reactions. Like my uncle Teddy would be as sweet sin on Tequila. But give him a shot of Jack, and he turns into a total asshole.”

  He nodded. “Noted.”

  “So I guess…” She turned to face him. “The best thing to do is just get into it.” She scanned the table looking for the shaker, then filled it with ice.

  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, but he tried to ignore it. It wasn’t like they hadn’t drank together before, but given their last experience, who would blame him for being a little nervous…

  She filled the shaker with a few ounces of whiskey, then began to shake. “Whiskey always goes down better if it’s cold,” she stated.

  Elliot lined up the two glasses up on the table, his heart thudding in his chest.

  She poured a good helping into to each glass, handed one to him, then held hers up in the air. “To adventure,” she toasted, tilting her shot back to her lips before he had the chance to respond. “Now you,” she said, wiping over her mouth with the back of her hand.

  He swallowed. Don’t look at her mouth, you asshole, don’t look at her mouth. He closed his eyes, but for some reason, it wasn’t helping. He was terrified. About what they were about to do. About what might happen. Before he could talk himself out of it, he picked up the shot glass and threw it back to his throat. It tasted like nail polish mixed with pine scented floor cleaner. Caustic, vile, and dry. He quickly swallowed to be rid of the taste, right before everything in his mouth began to burn. “And people drink that on purpose?” he coughed.

  Fe laughed, filling each glass again with cool whiskey. “Yes.” She nodded. “And they pay a pretty penny for it, too.”

  He scratched the back of his neck and glanced around the apartment. Everything looked the same. He didn’t feel any different.

  Fe squinted at him, and he realized she’d already refilled both of their glasses.

  “Again?” he asked.

  She nodded, then threw another back to her throat.

  Not one to drop out of any completion, he picked up his glass and drank. This time, it went down a little bit smoother, likely because his taste buds had been burned off by the first.

  “Do you want to play a drinking game?” Fe asked him. “It usually makes things go down easier.”

  He looked her in the eye, searching for any sign of intoxication, but found nothing. In fact, she seemed completely normal. Probably more relaxed than he’d seen her in days. “Sounds fun.” He nodded.

  Picking up the shaker and ice, she indicated he should grab the bottle, and headed for the living room. “Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

  “Not since I was in eighth grade.” He laughed, sitting down opposite her at the coffee table.

  “Do you remember how to play?” she asked, kneeling up to grab a pillow, then cris-crossed her legs and hugged them to her chest.

  “Isn’t it self-explanatory?” he asked, stretching his legs out toward the front door.

  “Well yes,” she cleared her throat. “Except if you’re caught in a lie, you have to drink.”

  “And if you don’t catch me?” he asked, searching for an error in this plan.

  “Then I have to drink.”

  “Alright,” he said, grabbing a pillow from the chair and placing it under one elbow. “You go first.”

  “Okay.” She leaned back against the couch, and gazed up to the ceiling. “I was once in a Christian cereal commercial, my favorite color is blue, and I won a Karaoke tournament in seventh grade.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Christian cereal. There’s no such thing, plus I already know your favorite color is blue.”

  She refilled his glass. “Wrong! Drink.”

  “What?” He picked up his shot glass, and swallowed it in one go. “Then what was the lie?”

  She grinned. “I’ve never sang Karaoke, let alone won a contest.”

  He frowned. “But you have a beautiful voice…”

  She laughed. “Liar.”

  He bit his lip. “Should I drink again?” Because in truth, Fe sounded like a drowning turkey when she sang.

  “Yes!” she laughed. “Once for being a smart ass, and once because you played out of turn.” But then she grinned, and filled his glass only once.

  “Your turn!” she said in a sing song voice, when he set his glass back down on the table.

  He rolled onto his back, contemplating the perfect lie. “Okay.” He looked up to the ceiling. “I’ve never owned a dog, even though I’ve always wanted one. Bugs Bunny gives me nightmares, and seven is my lucky number.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “Five is your lucky number. Too easy. Drink.”

  “God damn it!” He rolled to his side again and tossed back another. “You know me too well.”

  “You’ve never had a dog?” she asked then, after refilling his glass.

&
nbsp; “Nope. Never.”

  “That’s kinda sad, don’t you think?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know.” She toyed with the bottle of Jack between her fingers. “It seems that every kid should grow up with a dog.

  Alcohol was started to thin his blood, because his lips suddenly felt looser. “Momma had no time for dogs. She was too busy chasin’ after me and Colton.”

  Fe adjusted the position of her pillow and sat straighter, as though this news were a complete shock to her. “And what about your father? I’ve never heard you talk about him.”

  He shrugged, not really liking the turn in conversation. “He only had time for Colton.” He turned his attention back to the bottle, unsure why he’d just admitted that fact. It was true, but before tonight, he’d never acknowledge it. Maybe to himself, but not to anyone else.

  There was a long, hollow pause in the room, like all of the energy had been sucked out in an instant. He glanced up to Fe, finding her watching him. “Dodger, that’s what I would name my dog, if I had one.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted, but she was too damned quiet for his liking. He hated when she was silent, because it only meant one thing. That she was thinking. “Your turn,” he said without looking away.

  She stalled for a good second, then sat forward and set her mouth in a straight line. “My great grandmother was Native American, I went through a vegan stage in high school and ate nothing but Oreos for a month. Sometimes I wish I had a sister.”

  He placed one finger on his lips, and held it there a good minute while he pondered. Then a grin flittered at the side of his mouth and he filled her glass before pushing it across the table. “You were never vegan.”

  She hit the table, and took the shot. “Damnit! How’d you know?”

  “I’ve seen the way you eat bacon. You wouldn’t last a month.”

  She shrugged. “You’re probably right.”

  She refilled both glasses, and slid one across to him. “Take one with me. Not because we have to, just…because.”

  “Alright.”

  She lifted her glass to her lips, and met his eyes. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Elli.”

  Wings started flapping in his stomach, and he lifted his glass to his lips. She was beautiful tonight. Her cheeks rosy, her hair down around her shoulders. “Same.”

  Whiskey ran down his fingers as he took the shot, but he didn’t care. He wiped them on his jeans, and grabbed the bottle again. “I think I’m getting the hang of this stuff. It’s not nearly as bad as it was fifteen minutes ago.

  She giggled. “It’s an acquired taste.”

  “Yeah?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “It has a nostalgic quality to it. Kind of reminds me of all the men I grew up with. My father, uncles, grandfather, my brothers…”

  “What about the woman? What did they drink?”

  She smiled. “It was just my mom and aunts really. They mostly drank wine.”

  “No girl cousins?”

  She shook her head. “Not my age.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She smiled. “My brothers say I have enough estrogen for the whole family.”

  “Why? Were you a trouble maker?”

  “No…” She shook her head, then played with the cap of the bottle with her fingers. Screwing it tight, then loosening it again. “Well not compared to my friends. I was actually always the good girl. My brothers were just over protective and dramatic.” She pushed from the floor, slightly wobbly, and caught herself with the chair. “Wow. I’m really feeling it now, how about you?”

  A grin spread across his face. “Same.”

  He placed the pillow under his head and peered over his shoulder. “Whose turn is it? I forgot.”

  She stepped over him on her way to the bathroom. “Yours.”

  He thought about his next round of lies, but got tired of waiting, and shouted them to her across the hall. “Bananas make my mouth itch.” He hollered. “But I eat them for the potassium. My first rated R film was Weird Science, and I really hope this plan works.”

  The door opened then, and Fe appeared at the opening to the bathroom. Her hair loose around her shoulders, and her eyes bright.

  She came toward him then, wringing her hands. “What is it about her?” she asked him, stopping at the table to refill another shot before sitting on the floor.

  He rolled to his side, downing the shot before answering. “What do you mean?”

  “Mary. I assume that’s why you want the plan to work?”

  He ranked his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “Cause she’s fucking amazing.” He rolled onto his back, smirking to himself for his use of the F word.

  “How so?” Fe prodded.

  “Well—“he licked his lips”—she’s pretty, always smells good—” he turned to face her. “And she’s witty.”

  Fe’s lips puckered. “Petty, don’t you think?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Wait, are we not playing the game anymore?”

  “Your lie was bananas. You never eat them.” She took another shot. “But I’m curious about this. Answer the question.”

  He shook his head. “It’s not just about looks, Fe. She’s really smart. She’s the best ad negotiator in the firm, which is why she’s in London right now.”

  “Okay? So, she’s beautiful, successful, what else?”

  He pushed himself to his knees in front of her. “Isn’t that what we all want? A beautiful, successful person to fall in love with?”

  She shook her head. “No. That’s not what I want.”

  He filled his glass with more alcohol and looked up. “What do you want?”

  “I want someone who makes me laugh. I want someone who will carry me over puddles, and hold my hair when I puke.”

  He grinned “Did you get that from a romance novel?”

  “It’s not funny!” She threw a pillow at him. “And what if I did?” She rose to her knees and pushed herself off the floor. “It’s still true.”

  “All my life, I’ve wanted a girl like Mary to notice me. Shoot me for trying to make a boyhood fantasy come true.”

  She flexed her jaw. “Why?”

  “Because—” He raked his hand through is hair but grew silent.

  “Because why?” She insisted.

  “Because it will mean I’ve arrived! That I’m as good as my older brother.”

  She let out a breath, and he realized he’d already said too much. He pushed himself from the floor, and walked over to the kitchen to fill a glass of water. He needed it. Fe was right, not everyone could handle whiskey, and he was one of them.

  But Fe was by his side before he even turned on the faucet. “You’re as good as your brother, Elliot.”

  He set the glass on the counter, his eyes locked on her fingers that barely touched his arm.

  “I’d choose you over your brother any day.” Her voice was wobbly, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol, or something else.

  A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he turned toward her. ”Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

  “You have better hair, for one. Better eyes too.”

  “Petty,” he threw her words back in her face.

  She smiled. “You’re funnier.”

  His eyes softened. “I’m glad you noticed.” But he moved a little closer, stopping himself just before he touched her. He opened the drawer beside the sink, pulled out the crumpled-up list that was hidden toward the back, and smoothed it out on the counter. “Ask without asking.” He looked up at her. “What does that mean?”

  She leaned against the counter looking down at the list. “It means to be assertive. Know what you want, and go after it.”

  He frowned. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

  She shook her head. “Not like that.” She took the list from his hand, and placed it back on the refrigerator. “Like a kiss. You need to feel the moment, trust yourself to know the situation, and
go for it.”

  He cleared his throat. “And how does one know she wants it or not?”

  “Well…you ask her… without saying the words.”

  “And why can’t I say the words?”

  “Because it’s not as romantic.”

  She looked up at him, and stole all the air right out of his chest. She’d never admit it to anyone, but Fe wanted a knight in shining armor. She wanted someone strong, and daring, to sweep her off her feet, and surrender their love.

  “And how does one ask, without asking?” He raised one brow, but couldn’t stop himself from grinning. Fe made no sense. She was a bundle of contradictions, but lord she made him smile.

  She whipped her hair over one shoulder, and faced him. “Well… first you have to wait until the timing is right.”

  “And how does one know when the timing is right?”

  She grinned, then took one finger, and ran it down his bicep. “Because she’ll find a way to touch you, for no reason at all.” She stepped closer. “Or she’ll stand close, leaving hardly any space for you to move.” Her arm brushed the side of his body as she stepped directly in front of him. “But mostly, you can just feel it. Like an energy pulling you together.”

  His face hardened, and his heart hammered against his chest. What was she doing?

  His stance widened, but he didn’t listen to the small voice that told him it was time to go to bed. That told him she was drunk, that things had gone too far already. Instead, he stayed exactly where he was, and didn’t move a muscle. “And then what?”

  She shrugged. “You ask.” She stared into his eyes. “Without asking.”

  He bit his lip, and shook his head. “You’re too much.”

  She laughed. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Then show me.” He knew as soon as the words crossed his lips it was a bad idea, but he couldn’t wish them back. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact she was joking with him again for the first time in a long while, but he didn’t want this moment to end. Not now.

  She pursed her lips, lifted her shoulder, then stepped backward. “The first thing you do, is move toward her and see if she backs away…”