by C. R. Ellis
An episode and a half into my Law and Order: SVU marathon, there was a sharp rap on the door. Seconds later, Jasmine burst into my apartment. I stopped using my key to let myself into her apartment after I walked in on a scene involving lots of whipped cream, two naked male models from a wedding magazine photo shoot, and a blindfolded Jasmine, but she never hesitated to walk into my apartment unannounced. Guess that says something about my lackluster love life.
“Jade freaking Preston. Get up, you’re coming out with me. Tonight.” She tugged on my arms to get me to stand.
Crap, she remembered after all. “Jas, I’m fine. Today actually turned out to be a thousand times better than I expected.” I smiled, thinking about the reason behind that truth. I opened my mouth to tell her about the guy at the lake, but snapped my lips together just as quickly; I knew if I told her, she’d make a big deal about meeting a hot stranger, and she’d never let me hear the end of it for not getting his name or number.
She quirked a brow and studied my face. “Yeah? Glad to hear it, but I’m still taking you out. Let’s get you dressed!”
I sighed. Jasmine on a mission meant I wasn’t getting out of this.
She pulled me into my closet and dug around until she found a black, spaghetti-strapped dress with a dangerously short hemline and a plunging neckline. “This is the one!”
I cringed. The dress had been shoved into the depths of my hanging clothes because I rarely wore such revealing clothing. I’d always had a decent set of boobs, but that didn’t mean I went around shoving them in people’s faces. Arguing was pointless, so I complied and even let her talk me into wearing ridiculous four-inch heels sure to give me blisters.
Jasmine mixed us drinks, and we sipped them as we finished getting ready. We lived across the hall from each other, which was incredibly convenient in times like these. An hour later, we’d perfected our makeup and stolen each other’s natural hair styles—she straightened her waves into submission, while I gave my hair volume with loose curls. Today had been a weird day, but I was actually looking forward to our impromptu girls’ night out.
Chapter 3
Emmett
Living with regret was practically second nature to me by now. Which meant I should be able to shake it off. Not tonight, though. An unwavering mass of regret lingered in my gut, and I couldn’t understand why. Yes, the woman from the lake this afternoon was beautiful. And sure, our encounter was probably the highlight of my month, but I had zero interest in meeting anyone.
And yet, my brain refused to stop replaying our conversation. How she smiled, how the sunlight made her green eyes come alive, how she blushed when I caught her staring. I knew the second I broke the surface of the water and saw her racing toward me there was something different about her. One second I was ready to curse the person who couldn’t pay enough attention to see I was there, and the next I felt my body moving toward hers the same way the stars chase the sun.
I tried to tell myself Lance’s interruption was for the best. The image of her smile—an intoxicating combination of sexy and demure—was too far engrained in my brain to make that believable. Everything about her intrigued me, and I found myself thinking of questions I’d ask her if I could hop in a time machine and go back to her. Is she a morning person, or a night owl? What does a typical Tuesday night look like for her? What was her childhood like? If she could go anywhere in the world, where would she go? What was weighing so heavily on her mind this afternoon?
I couldn’t explain the random nature of the things I wanted to know about her, and I couldn’t understand why my mind was so wrapped up in a perfect stranger.
My little sister, Hope, would call this a sign. Maybe even destiny.
I knew better.
I knew better than to think there was some cosmic force controlling my life.
“Dude. You need to take a couple shots. Then maybe you won’t look like someone just ran over your puppy.”
“Lance, what the fuck? Don’t tempt our D.D.,” Damon replied before I could.
I shifted on my feet, not sure if I was relieved to be our group’s designated driver, or if I was annoyed, because alcohol would’ve helped rein in my wandering thoughts.
Lance shrugged. “This is only the first bar. The D.D. is allowed to have a drink or four at the first bar.”
Damon and I burst into laughter at the same time. “Remind me to never trust Lance as our driver,” I told Damon when we finally stopped laughing.
“Agreed.” Damon turned to Lance, who was already leaning over the bar to get the bartender’s attention. “Lance, you do know the phrase is designated driver, not drunken driver, right?”
Either he didn’t hear us, or was purposefully ignoring our comments. The bar was packed and deafening, so I wasn’t surprised. For probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes, my eyes swept across the space, searching for a ghost.
Damon saw me casing the bar. “Damn, Emmett. This girl got to you, huh? I need to meet this one.”
I had no desire to discuss her. If not for Lance’s big mouth, Damon never would’ve known about the girl from the lake. He knew all about my baggage and the skeletons in my closet, so he also knew why I couldn’t date. Only he disagreed and thought I was being unreasonable.
“What girl?” I did my best to look puzzled.
“Cut the shit,” he shouted over the music, shaking his head. “The girl you’ve been thinking about all night.”
Why did my heart just leap? At thirty fucking years old, I wasn’t some horny, sex-fueled teenager who got hard-ons at the thought of a hot chick. And yet…just thinking about her was affecting me.
“Look, she was hot. But I’ll never see her again, so it doesn’t matter.”
Damon shrugged and ordered another beer.
Fuck, I need a beer. This weekend was technically supposed to be for me, so why didn’t I make Lance or Damon drive? Though I’d never admit the truth, I welcomed the regret I felt because at least that meant I felt something.
“You could always put an ad on Craigslist, under ‘missed connections,’” Lance suggested with an amused smile. The bastard was enjoying this way too much. “Or you could grow a pair and stop moping around. This place is full of hot women, Emmett.” He angled his head toward the other side of the bar. “There’s bound to be one just as hot as the girl at the lake. If you’re lucky, she’ll have a friend,” he joked with a shit-eating grin. He zeroed in on a group of women who appeared to be out celebrating a birthday.
“All right, Romeo. Keep it in your pants.” I’d known Lance long enough to know he’d scour the entire bar just to prove his point.
He ignored my comment and peeled his eyes off the group of women, turning to face me. “C’mon, let’s go see if we can make the birthday girl’s wish come true.”
Damon was a few feet away, talking with a tall, exotic-looking woman who was hanging on every word he spoke. Before his career was cut short thanks to a catastrophic knee injury a couple years ago, Damon was a superstar shortstop for the Red Sox, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to get recognized when we went out. I wasn’t surprised to see a girl on his arm already.
Great.
I knew Lance wouldn’t let me get away with sitting at the bar, knocking back glasses of water for long, so I caved and let him lead the way. The foursome included a boisterous blonde with a sash alerting us she was the “birthday bitch.” Just Lance’s type.
Lance sauntered up to the group, and I was content to let him do all the talking. “Clearly you ladies are where the party’s at,” he boomed, his Boston accent thick and noticeable.
Walking toward their table, I’d told myself I was going to make an effort to engage in conversation. Easier said than done when you’re the only sober person around, though.
The birthday bitch snapped her attention to Lance, then to me. She tossed me a smile, but settled her gaze back on Lance. “Well, now it’s a party.”
“I’m Lance.” He offered the birthday girl his outstretc
hed hand.
“Stacey.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear and quickly fell into a fit of giggles at his response. They slipped into their own little world, and for the thousandth time tonight, I regretted volunteering to stay sober.
One of Stacey’s friends studied me for a second before her eyes narrowed. She set her drink down and hopped off the barstool to get a closer look. “Wait, you look familiar.”
Another one of the women followed her friend’s cue and looked me over too.
I could handle being recognized, but I wasn’t in the mood, and especially didn’t expect to get recognized here. Shrugging, I said, “I must just have one of those faces.”
The girls exchanged skeptical glances.
“No, you don’t just have ‘one of those faces.’ You have a very gorgeous face,” the second woman gushed, closing the gap between us to get a closer look.
Oh, for Christ’s sake. I forced myself not to grimace or step away, even though the mixture of cotton-candy smelling perfume and cheap tequila was nauseating.
The redhead’s brown eyes flashed with further recognition and my heart nearly stopped. “I know! You look just like the guy who plays Thor!”
I let out a breath, relieved that’s all she realized.
“I guess I get that a lot,” I acknowledged, trying to shrug it off. “I’m Emmett.”
“Cara,” the redhead replied, stepping closer and looking up at me. She was cute, but I wasn’t interested. Hers wasn’t the smile I saw each time I closed my eyes.
After a round of shots, Lance slipped into conversation with Stacey and the redhead, and I knew he’d already made plans on how tonight would end. Most likely, with two pairs of legs wrapped around him in some fashion.
I craned my neck around and scanned over the heads of drunken strangers to search for Damon. I doubted he’d leave without telling me, but I didn’t feel like tracking his ass down if he decided to disappear into some dark corner. I checked the bar first, but he wasn’t among the customers packed in like sardines. I gazed across the open space, moving past a wild bachelorette party where some of the participants were climbing atop a nearby table. I barely registered the unfamiliar faces; I had a mission to find Damon and female faces weren’t on my radar.
Until I saw her.
She was smiling at her friend, and they were pushing through the crowd toward the exit. I froze, but my brain screamed at me to catch up with her before she disappeared in the crowd.
“I have to go. Sorry,” I muttered absently to Lance and his groupies, too afraid to take my eyes off the woman from the lake for a second. I started edging past the girls, not even waiting for their reply when I realized I needed to make sure Lance knew where I was headed. Begrudgingly, I glanced back at him for a second. “Lance, keep your phone on. Stay here, I’ll text you.”
He followed my gaze.
“She’s here,” I confirmed before pushing my way into the crowd. Times like this made me grateful to be taller than average, because I could see above heads just enough to keep my eyes on her.
“Emmett!” Damon appeared out of nowhere and sidled up to me.
“I’ve gotta go, the girl from the lake was here. I’ll text you,” I shouted, pushing past him without waiting for a response.
I knew this bordered on obsessive behavior, but I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers again. Luckily for me, the path to the exit was clogged with idiots too drunk to politely get out of their way. I slowed my pace so I didn’t look like a complete stalker and followed them at a reasonable distance. To my surprise, Lance and Damon caught up with me.
“What the hell? You didn’t have to come, I said I would text.”
Damon smirked. “Listen, we are not about to miss out on seeing the girl you’ve been pining away for.”
Lance nodded in agreement. “I didn’t see much, but it looked like she had a friend.”
I glanced over at him. “You’re such an asshole. What about the birthday bitch?”
He shrugged. “She was hot, but there are plenty of attractive women around this city.”
“Whatever. Just don’t screw things up with her friend if she happens to give you the time of day.”
My mystery woman and her friend disappeared into a bar down the street. We followed them up the stairs to the second floor where they headed straight for the less-crowded bar.
“Damn, they’re both hot as hell,” Lance observed when we caught sight of them waiting at the bar. “Why didn’t you just tell me to fuck off earlier when you were talking to her at the lake?”
“Because I wasn’t interested in meeting a woman. I’m not interested,” I corrected. “You both know why I’m not willing to have any kind of relationship.”
They exchanged an indecipherable look. “Something has obviously changed your mind,” Damon asserted. “Or are you just looking for a night of fun?”
There was a challenge in his eyes; he was baiting me. I knew he wanted me to acknowledge my interest in more than just a casual roll in the sheets with her, but I didn’t respond.
“Look,” Lance cut in. “We understand there are a million reasons for you to keep yourself locked away in a perpetual state of unhappiness, determined not to let circumstances beyond your control fuck your life up again. But you need to let yourself off the hook every once in a while.”
I glared from Damon to Lance. “No. You don’t fucking understand. Those ‘circumstances’ are something I can control, by doing exactly what I’m doing. If regret and unhappiness are the price I have to pay, fine. I won’t let my selfishness ruin another life. I’ve learned my lesson.” I turned around and headed to the outdoor patio.
They thought I was being unreasonable in my firm stance against relationships, but they didn’t understand. The skeletons in my closet weren’t even skeletons—they were fucking zombies refusing to stay dead. They were determined to destroy my life from the inside out.
That was my reality.
But she made reality slip away. She radiated energy and light like the sun, and I was powerless to stop the feelings that washed over me when I thought about her. And I didn’t even know her name.
On the one hand, there was a chance nothing would come of it if I talked to her. Or maybe we could just have a night of fun and go our separate ways.
On the other hand, there was a chance I was completely right and even talking to her would force me to acknowledge what she made me feel. There was a chance this impulsive “weekend of zero fucks given,” as Lance dubbed it, would amount to more than I bargained for. I had to decide if the reward was worth the risk.
I stood at the railing along a deserted corner of the patio, surveying the busy downtown street for minutes on end while a war waged in my head.
When something in the air changed, I knew why before I even looked up. She was there, standing at the opposite side of the patio, leaning against the railing as she let her eyes gaze out over the city and up to the sky. The sight of her crumbled whatever resolve I’d built up. The tight black dress she wore left little to the imagination, hugging her hourglass figure flawlessly. I’d noticed how incredible her body was earlier, but now I couldn’t stop fantasizing about what she looked like underneath the skintight fabric.
I couldn’t peel my eyes off her. She was a picture of elegant beauty. And yet, her expression was one of complete annoyance. Her brows furrowed together as she blew a wayward strand of hair out of her face. I immediately wanted to ease her frustration. I needed to see the smiling, shy look she’d given me at the lake.
As if she could sense my prying eyes, she lifted her gaze and found mine. She stood frozen for a few seconds, like she wasn’t sure if she was really seeing me. Without letting the logical part of my brain kick in, I pushed back from the railing and made my way toward her.
“Hi.” I smiled, coming to a stop next to her.
The scowl she was wearing melted away completely, and the breathtaking smile I’d missed spread across her lips. Her smile, and the warmth
it gave off, was far more intoxicating than any alcohol I’d ever had.
“Hi, yourself,” she tossed back, shaking her head gently with disbelief. “Tell me, do you always stare at strangers at bars?” she asked in a teasing tone, reminding me of the question I’d asked her at the lake.
I shook my head. “Only strangers who have tried to take my head off.”
Her eyes flitted to the side of my forehead where the stick had landed. She laughed. “You’re really milking that tiny little bump, aren’t you?”
I shrugged. “You know, I think it’s only fair I know your name since you’ve already left your mark on me.” In more ways than one.
She pretended to weigh her options, torturing me for a few seconds before reaching out to offer me her hand. “Jade.”
“Emmett.” I tried not to think about how perfectly natural having her hand in mine felt, or how mesmerizing her green eyes were when they seared into mine.
“Emmett,” she repeated.
Hearing my name on her lips did stupid things to my gut, and I was back to feeling like some teenage idiot unable to control his hormones. “So, Jade, what brought you out here with such a grim expression?”
Her gaze swept past me to somewhere behind us. She sighed, sounding relieved, before bringing her eyes back to me. “I came with my friend, but she was, um, occupied. Some guy inside was being crude and inappropriate and wouldn’t leave me alone, so I came out here to get away. Sounds stupid now,” she added with a shrug.
I nodded in understanding and tried to temper the anger I felt when I thought about some guy being an asshole to her. Knowing there were guys out there who exhibited behavior of that nature infuriated me. I wanted to find the guy and be more than crude and inappropriate to him.
Jade was gorgeous, and I had absolutely no doubt she’d dealt with her fair share of assholes. “On behalf of my gender, let me apologize and assure you the rest of us hate guys like him as much as you do.”