by A. M. Myers
Goose bumps race across my flesh.
His gaze drops down my body, following every curve with precision and I do the same, taking in his tall, lean frame. The sleeves of his dark blue Henley are pushed up, showing off the muscles in his forearms and the bold black and gray tattoos that blanket his skin. I wonder how far up they go and how his inked knuckles would contrast against my creamy skin.
When our eyes meet again, the fire dancing in his is enough to steal my breath and make my heart race with a desire that has been lacking from my life. I fight the urge to take a step toward him. One corner of his mouth tips up in a lopsided grin that has me biting down on my lip to hide one of my own as heat rushes to my cheeks and desire pools between my thighs. My need from this morning returns tenfold and I curse myself for not grabbing my vibrator after Sam stormed out of my apartment. His eyes drop to my mouth and his tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip like he’s hoping to catch a taste of me there.
My heart skips a beat.
Green eyes find mine once again and I'm aware of something vibrating throughout my entire body. How the hell can he do that from just a glance? With an expectant brow, he clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze.
What was I supposed to be saying to him right now?
My name.
Right.
“Carly,” I whisper, my voice barely audible as my pulse pounds under my skin. His eyes sparkle as he flashes me a full smile, a dimple appearing on his cheek and my knees go a little weak.
“I’m Chance. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you, too,” I mumble like an idiot because I can’t think of one thing to say to this man. I attended four years of college and graduated, right? I’m certain I did but you wouldn’t realize it from looking at me. My brain crawls like it’s moving through sludge and I’m having trouble recalling basic language skills. In all my years of random hook-ups, I’ve experienced nothing like this and as much as I recognize that it should send me running in the other direction, it doesn’t. Instead, I want to lean closer even when I'm aware of the danger. I want to see if he smells as good as I imagine and how he’d react if I placed my palm against his chest.
“So, you work at the blog with Ali, then?” he asks and I nod, unable to make my mouth work.
Good god, Carly.
Just force words, any words at all, out of your lips, for Christ’s sake.
“Yeah,” I say and almost roll my eyes at myself. He smirks and takes a small step toward me like he’s fighting this crazy pull, too, but my mind is still blank. I don’t think I’ve been this awkward in front of a guy since I was a teenager.
Now would be a fantastic time for the heavens to open and shoot me down with a lightning bolt so I don’t humiliate myself further, but they aren’t that kind.
Warmth washes over me again and I take a deep breath, fighting my natural inclination to seek his gaze. He takes another step toward me and I can’t stop myself from glancing up at him. He smiles, a soft smile I’m sure is supposed to put me at ease but it only makes him more attractive. My breath catches when he reaches out and brushes his thumb over my cheek. Tingles, like little zaps of lightning flitter over my skin and the only thing I can hear is my rapid breathing as I stare up at him, unable to pull my gaze away from his eyes.
“Sorry. You had an eyelash on your cheek,” he whispers but still doesn’t pull his hand away and my body aches as I fight every natural inclination to lean into his touch. He is trouble with a capital T. I clear my throat.
“Uh… thanks.”
He takes a step back and nods before glancing up at the house as he runs a hand through his dirty blond hair, almost as if he was in a daze himself. He turns back and just like that, his eyes hold me captive again. “You drove Ali here, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I was thinking about getting her car and bringing it back here. You mind driving me?”
I glance up at the house, chewing on my bottom lip. “I should stay here with her.”
“Trust me, there is no way in hell Storm is leaving her right now. She’s in good hands. Besides, if I bring her car back, it’s one less thing for her to worry about.”
Sighing, I nod. He’s right. The last thing Ali needs to worry about right now is her car. “Okay, let me go grab her keys.”
He nods. I walk up the steps and slip inside. Ali and Storm are nowhere in sight, so I grab her keys out of her bag and go back outside as I pull my phone out to send her a text.
Me:
Hey, taking Chance to bring your car back.
Call if you need anything.
As I slip my phone back into my bag, I glance up and stop halfway down the steps as my eyes lock onto Chance leaning up against my car with his arms crossed over his chest. The rest of the world seems to fall away. His gaze never wavers, like he’s content to just stand there and watch me all damn day and the worst part is, I like it. What the hell is happening right now? It’s almost like my little sister, Ivy, did some of that witchy voodoo stuff that Aunt Dottie tried to teach us when we were younger. Of course, neither one of us took it seriously. But that’s just about the only explanation for the emotion rocking through my body right now.
Blowing out a breath, I shake it off as I start down the sidewalk toward him. The last thing I need right now is this shit. So, sure… Chance might be the sexiest man I’ve ever met, but that’s all this is—lust. As I reach the car, he doesn’t move and his body is dangerously close as I lean in to open my door. He smells like cinnamon gum, the kind that Ivy and I used to sneak when our mother wasn’t around. The scent fills the space between us and I resist the urge to close my eyes and just breathe him in, remembering a time when life wasn’t so complicated. Stilling, we lock eyes and stare at each other, the tension mounting between us.
My entire body tingles in anticipation.
“Are you going to get in?” I whisper and a smile stretches across his face. His eyes roam over me, taking his time to study me like he has every right to before pushing off the car and grazing my body. I gasp. It would be less dramatic if he electrocuted me. I watch him walk around to the passenger side and slip into the seat before taking another breath and sliding behind the wheel. He watches me as I pull away from the curb and start off toward the office, his gaze boring into the side of my head. I’m acutely aware of it—like it’s his hands following the contours of my face instead of his eyes.
I fidget in my seat, each breath I pull into my lungs ringing in my ears as I stare at the road in front of me and fight my body’s desire to glance over at him. He finally looks away and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The road flies past us but I barely even register it, all my attention focused on the man next to me and the way his eyes periodically flick in my direction. Each time, I struggle to restrain myself from meeting his gaze. When I can’t stand it any longer, I glance over at him.
“What?” I ask and he grins. His eyes sparkle with amusement and curiosity. It’s so hard to turn away from him but I somehow manage.
“Nothing. Just trying to figure you out.”
I scoff. “Good luck with that.”
He can’t ever get to know me. I’m a bag full of crazy, accentuated by secrets and pain so deep I’ll never recover. He’s better off not knowing. He continues watching me and I focus back on the road, once again struggling to not glance in his direction as I search for something to say to him to fill this space between us. Never in my adult life have I had trouble talking to men, but he does something I can’t explain. I thought I understood what desire did to my body, what chemistry was, but now I’m questioning everything.
“How long have you known Ali?” he asks, and I peek over at him before turning back to the road.
“Six years. Have you been friends with Storm long?”
He chuckles, and the sound draws my gaze back to him. “Yeah, since we were kids.”
“Cool,” I whisper, turning back to the road as my heart thumps in my chest.
“I’m not.”
Chuckling again, he shakes his head, saying nothing but his expression makes it clear he’s not buying it. I’m not all that convinced right now either because I can’t focus on anything but the heat that’s steadily climbing in the confined space of the car. My body aches, tortured with how much I want him to touch me again. I stare at the road in front of me, torn between wanting to get to the office faster and slowing down so I have a little more time with him.
Wait, what?
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and I scoff as I glance in his direction.
“How is that any of your business?”
His grin widens. “I’ll take that as a no.”
What could I say to him? It’s not like I can confirm that he’s correct or explain that the farthest guys ever get with me is friends with benefits and I haven’t been in a relationship since I was sixteen. Hell, I haven’t even told Ali or Izzy about that, so I will not tell a virtual stranger.
“Did you grow up here?” he asks, turning to face me in his seat and focusing his full attention on me. It’s unnerving.
“No.”
When I glance over at him again, he smirks. “Where are you from?”
“Why are you so interested in where I grew up?”
I pull up to a red light just a block from the parking garage and look across the car, locking eyes with him. His gaze holds me prisoner and I can’t pull away. There’s just something so intriguing about him. Maybe it’s the way his eyes hold this fierce intensity and seem to shimmer with amusement at the same time—like he would ride into the depths of hell with a grin on his face and laugh as he went head-to-head with the devil. Or the fact that he has no qualms about openly staring at me like a stalker. And yet, it doesn’t come off as threatening.
“Just want to get to know you,” he says, shrugging his shoulders like he sees nothing wrong with that. Perhaps in his world, there’s nothing wrong with it but it’ll be a cold day in that hell he’s riding into before I let someone get close again.
“There isn’t anything to know,” I retort just as horns blare behind me. My head whips forward and I press down on the gas.
“Now that, I very much doubt.”
“Why?”
“Let’s call it a hunch. You’re far too gorgeous and intriguing for that to be true.”
“That shit will not work on me,” I snap, hoping that he can’t see the deception in my eyes. Normally, it wouldn’t work. With any other guy, I would roll my eyes and move on, but something about the way he says it hits me right in the chest.
He laughs out loud, throwing his head back and warmth seeps through my body as I sneak another peek at him. “Damn, you’re refreshing, but who exactly are you trying to convince?”
I say nothing, turning into the parking garage with a huff and focusing on the winding ramp as I drive up to Ali’s car. When I slip into the spot next to her, I let out a breath and put the car in park.
“That’s her car there,” I say, pointing next to me as I reach for my bag. After I turn the car off, I toss the keys across the seat and he catches them.
“Hey, wait,” he calls as I open the door and climb out. Spinning around, I shut the door and glance over the top of the car at him.
“What?”
“I should get your number.”
I shake my head. “No.”
“What if I need to get in touch with you?” he asks.
“Why would you need to call me?”
He shrugs. “What if there’s an emergency?”
“Call nine-one-one,” I retort and spin around, walking away from him. I only get a few steps away when I hear his boots slapping against the pavement, then he’s grabbing my arm and spinning me to face him.
“What if something happens with Ali?”
“Ali has my number.”
He sighs, but he doesn’t seem even the least bit frustrated by my resistance.
“What if you need help?”
“Then I’ll call nine-one-one,” I shoot back, tiring of this back and forth.
“I promise you, I can get to you a lot quicker than the cops can. I only want to keep you safe.” He places his hand over his heart like it will somehow convince me he’s sincere and I roll my eyes.
“You’re not going to leave until I give it to you, are you?”
He grins. “No.”
“Give me your phone,” I growl, against my better judgment, and he grabs his phone out of his pocket before handing it over. My desperation to leave this situation is stronger than my desire for him to not have my number. Besides, I can always block him later. After programming my number in his contacts, I hand it back to him and turn away.
“Goodbye, Chance,” I call over my shoulder and his chuckle echoes through the garage as my phone beeps.
555-011-3346:
See you around, Darlin’
Chapter Two
Carly
The sun beats down on me, unhindered by the gray depressing clouds that have been blanketing the city for the past week. It warms my skin and sinks into my bones, moving through my system like some kind of narcotic. The rumble of an occasional car driving over the cobblestone road that predates the Civil War in this part of the city slices through the chatter of the diners sprinkled at tables around me. A cool breeze brushes my hair off my shoulder, bringing with it the sweet scent of blooming flowers from the little family florist across the street with their windows wide open. By all accounts, it’s a perfect day and yet I can’t shake this foul mood that seems to have carried over from yesterday.
“Here’s another sweet tea, Ma’am,” the waiter says with a forced smile as he sets the glass down in front of me and takes the empty one sitting on the table.
“Thank you,” I murmur, scanning the sidewalk for my sister.
“Are you ready to order yet?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. My sister should be here any moment.”
I hope.
Ivy was supposed to meet me here twenty minutes ago but, as usual, she’s late. I suppose I should know better at this point since that girl hasn’t been on time even once in her life. Hell, she wasn’t even born on time. They had to induce my mother and force my baby sister into this world. This is who she is and I somehow never remember to tell her to meet me early.
As much as I enjoy this little café and its quaint patio where you can watch the city of Baton Rouge pass you by behind the safety of the gorgeous black wrought iron fence, my lunch is only an hour long.
The waiter’s smile is strained as he flicks his gaze over to the empty chair across from me before glancing back at me and nodding. He turns and walks away. I would bet the entire trust fund that my mother forced upon me that he rolled his eyes as soon as his back was to me. Pulling my gaze away from him as he stomps back to the kitchen like a petulant child, I grab my tea and turn toward the street as I take a sip and my stomach growls.
I search for Ivy’s face in the small crowd passing by the café but she’s still not here and I’m reaching the end of my patience. With a sigh, I turn back to the restaurant and lock eyes with my waiter. He’s standing behind the bar with another man and both of their gazes are trained on me. I barely hold back a smile when he rolls his eyes and walks off to go help someone else.
I guess I should feel bad I’m essentially loitering but it’s nearing the end of the lunch rush and the surrounding tables are clearing out, so he can shove it. Then again, if my little sister doesn’t show up in the next few minutes, I may strangle her myself no matter how much I love the brat.
My phone vibrates on the table and I lurch forward, reaching for it but stop short when my mother’s name flashes on the sc
reen. Silencing it, I sit back and shake my head. A conversation with my mother is the best way to take my mood from cranky to homicidal and I don’t have the energy for it today.
“Carly!” Ivy’s voice rings through the crowd and I glance up with a smile on my face. She beams at me, a radiant smile that lights up her entire face as she bustles over, waving off the hostess. She sinks into the seat across from me and I study her, trying to figure out what’s got her in such a good mood today.
“You’re late,” I point out, trying to keep the irritation in my voice but it’s difficult. Her joy is contagious. It wouldn’t matter anyway. She brushes me off with a wave of her hand and an innocent smile that’s gotten her out of trouble often in her life.
“Yes, I know. I had a million things to do today and the time just got away from me. I’m going to start setting my clock fast so I actually end up on time.”
I scoff. “You say that every time.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you love me then, huh?” she teases. I shrug, keeping my face neutral.
“You’re tolerable, I guess.”
Her mouth drops open in mock outrage but before she can say anything, the waiter approaches our table, notepad in hand as he stares down eagerly at my baby sister.
“Good afternoon, ladies. I’m Nate and I’ll be your waiter today. Can I get something started for you?” he asks, his gaze focused on Ivy. She looks up at him, batting her lashes as she dazzles him with her smile. I can almost make out the hearts in his eyes like the cartoons we used to watch when we were kids. Poor Nate here probably thinks he’s got a chance, but he doesn’t realize Ivy does not understand how to speak to anyone without flirting a little. She craves the attention and knows how to get it when she wants it.
“The chicken sounds amazing, Nate,” Ivy says, laying it on thick, and I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing as he turns to me, his expression falling.