REVELATION (THE REVELATION SERIES)

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REVELATION (THE REVELATION SERIES) Page 3

by Randi Cooley Wilson


  “Your unconvincing tone says different,” he retorts.

  I’m just about to offer my witty come back when his eyes snap up, quickly scanning the area behind me before redirecting his focus back to me. He frowns. Before I can glance at what caught his attention, blue eyes speaks, ending my inquisitiveness.

  “As delightful as this conversation has been with you, I have somewhere I need to be. Try not to walk into anyone or anything,” he mocks as he begins to walk away.

  “Whatever,” I mutter and add under my breath, “ass.” With that, he stops and turns back to face me, stalking me slowly, like a predator.

  “Tsk. Name calling is very unbecoming of you, Eve.” My name comes out like a dig. “Perhaps, you should consider your choice of words within the English language with more care when conversing with others.”

  I just stand there, glaring at him, wracking my brain for a smartass response. Unfortunately, he has me all tongue-tied and at a loss for witty repartee.

  Hotness, of course, wastes no time conquering the silence. “I’ll be anticipating your retort, siren. I’m sure it will be enlightening.” He’s taunting me.

  I struggle for words. My cheeks warm as the pink hue of mortification crawls up them. I should be attempting to form a clever comeback. Instead, I just stand there like a statue.

  He flashes a sexy smile at me, winks, and walks away. “Damn those dimples.” I blow out a deep breath as I watch him leave. I stand there for a moment longer, trying to figure out what just happened.

  “It’s probably best to stay away from Asher,” an icy voice says from behind me.

  Now what? I turn to see McKenna looking like evil Barbie. Her long blonde hair pulled tight in a ponytail, her striking sapphire eyes glaring at me with hatred, her nostrils flaring and her manicured hands positioned on her athletic hips.

  “What are you talking about, McKenna?” I ask, bordering on boredom.

  “Asher St. Michael. That piece of sexy male specimen you were just attempting to converse with. He’s off limits,” she instructs like she owns him.

  I cross my arms. How dare she tell me who I can and can’t speak with? “First of all, trust me when I say he isn’t of interest and secondly, you don’t get to tell me whom I can and cannot speak to so back off, McKenna.” I brush past her as she grabs my arm, forcing me to turn and face her.

  “Just trust me when I tell you that falling for Asher would be a bad idea,” she snarls out of her perfectly glossy lips.

  I twist my arm out of her death grip, looking her in the eyes. “Message received. He’s all yours.” I smile sweetly and walk away.

  3 Katana

  Exhausted from the verbal altercations, I decide to spend some time alone in the library with my research paper. Delusional as it may be, I thought Rhetorical and Communicative Theory would be a good distraction from Asher St. Michael.

  After three hours, it’s not working. All I can think about are his indigo eyes, the way his invigorating scent filled me, and why my body reacts of its own accord to his proximity as if pulled by an invisible string. Unfortunately, all attraction ends when he opens his damn mouth. I sigh in defeat as I pack up to leave.

  I walk outside the library and adjust my messenger bag as coldness creeps into my body. But it has nothing to do with the outside temperature. I scan the campus, assuring myself that nothing seems out of sorts. Still, I can’t help the feeling like I’m being watched. I exhale, releasing my nerves, and begin to walk back to my dorm.

  As I reach the door to my room, I notice it’s ajar which strikes me as weird. We all lock the door constantly since it’s one of Abby’s big rules. Little by little, I push the door open and my breath hitches.

  “Holy shit,” I don’t quite whisper. I’m looking at what I can only describe as complete room demolition. There are clothes, shoes, jewelry, purses, and make-up thrown everywhere in the lounge area with a trail leading straight to the room I share with Aria. It looks like the place has been ransacked. On guard, I walk toward our room and open the door. My jaw hits the floor as my eyes go wide and I stand motionless at the sight in front of me.

  Aria and Abby are wildly pulling clothes out of the closets and arbitrarily throwing them on what I’m guessing are our beds. Music blares from an iPod as I stand speechless and immobile, still in shock at the closet destruction I’m witnessing.

  “Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” Abby chirps with a cheerful tone. Finally noticing I’m standing there, she grabs both my hands and pulls me through the doorway into the chaos.

  “What’s going on in here?” I stammer out as I trip over a pair of Abby’s black-heeled shoes, my messenger bag falling on the floor in the process.

  Grabbing them off the floor, Abby squeals in delight. “Eve! You found them, thank you. It’s like fate because these,” she dangles the five-inch heels in my face, “are what you’ll be wearing tonight with a black dress,” she searches the mess with meticulous care, like a cat stalking a mouse, “ah ha, here, with this black dress.” She holds up a mini sequin dress and the shoes then shoves them both at me.

  “Once again, what’s going on?” I repeat, slowing down my tone this time, waiting for someone to answer.

  “We’re going out! It’s Friday night and we’re on the guest list at Katana, a very hip, very cool, very dark nightclub in the city,” Aria says while shooting me a don’t argue look.

  “Yes!” Abby confirms, clapping with glee and causing my eyes to widen for the second time. “Since it’s twenty-one and over, we need the perfect outfits. I think, after two hours of searching, I’ve got everyone all set and ready to go. Now, we need to shower and get ready.”

  “You guys have been at this for two hours! Are you fucking crazy?” I screech in complete astonishment that they would spend so much time looking for a dress and shoes.

  Abby pushes me toward the bathroom. “No, we’re preparing for fun. You go shower. By the time you’re done, I promise we,” she motions to Aria and then herself, “will have this all cleaned up.” I stare at her while she slips on her sweetest smile so I can’t argue.

  “Fine.” I huff and head into the bathroom.

  Two pizza, primping and plucking-filled hours later, we’re deemed ready to go by the glam squad.

  “I have to say, we clean up well. I do good work.” Abby pats herself on the back.

  “You’re right. We all look smoking hot,” Aria’s enthusiastic voice agrees.

  I’m so out of my element. “I miss my jeans,” I whine, trying not to kill myself in these high heels.

  Abby gives me stink eye. “Eve, for once you look like a hot college girl so stop bitching.”

  Resigned that I’m stuck wearing the mini and heels, I just sigh. Abby completes the look by pulling my hair into a sleek ponytail and Aria does a smoky eye on me, which make my hazel eyes look fierce.

  To be truthful, Aria did smoky eyes on everyone since it’s her ‘specialty.’ Hers are in pink tones highlighted with black heavy liner, all complimenting her sleek, pink strapless mini dress, black fishnets, and black combat boots. The combination sounds odd, but she looks fantastic.

  Abby looks majestic in a gold shimmer mini and gold sparkle heels, which make her long legs look even more incredible. Reminding me of a Grecian goddess, her eyes are done in browns and gold.

  Out of all of us though, I have to admit that McKenna looks the sexiest. She strolls in wearing a grey mini that drapes on her lean body with a black belt, black tights, a faux fur vest and knee high boots.

  “Let’s go,” she orders in a sharp pitch as she twirls her index finger in a circular motion, instructing us to get moving out the door.

  Twenty minutes later, we pull up to the valet outside Katana. The club is housed in an elegant two-story building made of a shiny, smooth black stone, maybe granite. On the roof of the building are four dragon statues, one on each corner. There’s no sign, no windows, and only one glass door guarded by two very large and intimidating bouncers dressed in all
black.

  “There must be a hundred people waiting in line. It’s wrapped around the building,” Aria breathes out in awe.

  We get out of Abby’s Mini Cooper while McKenna strolls us up to the bouncers, bypassing the line like she owns the place. “Tadhg. Leo. Looks busy tonight, boys,” she greets the guards like they’re old friends.

  “Aye, Kenna,” Tadhg says with an Irish brogue. The watchdog has tattoos that run the lengths of his very muscular arms and some run over his bald head and neck. His green eyes sparkle with joy at the site of us. “Yar lookin’ as lovely as evah, darlin,” he throws out with a thick accent as he eyeballs her from head to toe. McKenna seems to have that affect on all men.

  “McKenna.” Leo nods in a more formal manner. “How many with you tonight?”

  “There’re four of us. Abby’s here too.” She tilts her head in Abby’s direction, obliging Tadhg and Leo to both gesture to Abby. She signals back just as she reaches the two gigantic guards.

  “These are our friends, Aria and Eve. Ladies, Leo and Tadhg are friends of the family, and they also work for the club,” Abby chirps, making the introductions animatedly.

  I wave to both goliaths. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you, guys.” They both nod their hellos. “Tadhg is an interesting name,” I remark.

  Tadhg smiles at me. “Tis actually pronounced Tigg, meaning poet, in Gaelic,” he corrects with a captivating enunciation.

  Aria cozies up to Leo and squeezes his biceps. “Hey, you remind me of my ex but way hotter and sooo much bigger.” She bats her eyes and flirts with no shame.

  “I’m just a gentle giant with a heart of gold,” he coos at her, encouraging the attention.

  I bark out a short laugh as Abby giggles and McKenna snorts.

  “Ye feeks have a grand time and ya stay outta trouble, yeh?” Tadhg says, opening the black rope and permitting us entry as the line of people groan in complaint.

  “Thanks, honey,” McKenna says, planting a kiss on Tadhg’s cheek as we walk in.

  “Feeks?” Aria questions.

  “It means gorgeous girls,” Abby answers.

  We walk into the club and the first thing I notice is it’s smaller and more intimate than it looks from the outside. Though stylish and sophisticated, it’s also dark and sensual.

  The only light source comes from the twenty or so oversized chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The amber beams of light reflect off the crystals, wrapping the entire nightclub in a warm glow. Even with the luminescent radiance, they don’t provide much brightness against the dark interior.

  The walls are black and the floor a dark grey concrete, giving the entire club a contemporary feeling. There’s an all black, square granite bar in the middle of the open space with a countertop that runs the entire length of it. Everything is meant to feel sleek and smooth, modern.

  Abby and McKenna push us in the direction of the bar as they step up and order our drinks. My eyes roam and I notice a considerable dance floor with more giant chandeliers lighting the dancers in red tones. There are tons of people dancing sensually while post punk music pumps throughout the entire club. This whole place screams sex.

  All around the outskirts are high back, black leather booths with small grey stone, circular tables in front of them. There’s also a mezzanine overlooking the main floor. It’s decorated with black leather couches and tables.

  “This is so amazing.” As Aria jumps up and down, I smile at her enthusiasm.

  “It really is.” I nod in agreement.

  Abby and McKenna return with drinks in hand and we head toward a couch area with a stone table in the center that has a VIP note on it. McKenna and I sit on the couch facing the dance floor as Abby and Aria plop into chairs across from us.

  “How were you able to get us in here?” Aria inquires, taking a sip of her drink.

  “My boyfriend and his brothers own the club,” McKenna announces with pride.

  I shoot a pointed glance at Aria as her eyes widen. I guess the ice queen has a boyfriend.

  “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone,” Aria responds, stunned.

  McKenna just glares but doesn’t elaborate. Odd. I was about to ask her to go into details regarding her secret boyfriend when the familiar heat begins to hum in my veins. My eyes lift and scan the dance floor, landing on Asher. He’s dancing provocatively with some random blonde girl as an irrational pang of jealousy rolls through me. What the fuck?

  At my reaction, Abby’s face morphs into one of confusion, causing her to look back at Asher and then at me again with puzzlement before she draws her manicured brows together.

  “You want to tell us why your nose is flaring like you just smelled dog shit?” Aria asks with candor as she watches my every move.

  I can’t answer her. All I can do is focus on the many places his body touches hers while I’m consumed by illogical envy. My blood is actually boiling in my veins as I hold my breath and just stare at him grinding against her.

  This girl’s cleavage is falling out of her silver dress, which hugs all her curves. She entwines her hands around his waist as Asher buries his face in the crook of her neck. He secures her against his body and they sway as one to the erotic music. With lustful eyes, she smiles up at him and bites her lower lip. He leans in as if he’s going to kiss her, maintaining eye contact with her.

  I clinch my fists tightly to prevent myself from going over there and clawing her damn eyes out. Crap. I need to pull it together. I don’t even know him, and what little I do know, I don’t like. Right?

  “Looks like someone needs to start listening when I give advice.” McKenna leans in and whispers into my left ear while I try to calm myself down.

  Asher snaps his head toward us as if he heard her, which is impossible over the loud music. His eyes shift and lock onto mine, holding them for a moment, taken aback. They grow larger in surprise and snap back to McKenna. He’s pissed. She waves wickedly at him, causing his face to turn furious with rage.

  The tension is too much. I grab Aria, forcing her out of her seat. I realize I’m being irrational, but the need to escape is overwhelming and I get tunnel vision.

  “Aria, come with me to the ladies room.” I drag her like a rag doll behind me.

  “What the hell, Eve,” she screeches.

  “I need some air and you need to come with me,” I attempt to explain while I walk faster, pulling her into the ladies room and slamming the door closed.

  Of course, the bathroom is as chic and dark as the rest of the club. I throw myself down on one of the leather chairs in the sitting area and put my head in my hands, sighing and feeling overwhelmed. Yep, I’m unstable.

  Aria just stands there, arms folded. Crap, the angry pixie’s back. “Are you going to tell me the absurd reason why you heaved me through the club to hide out in the ladies room? I mean, it is a lovely room,” she motions her hand around, “but this isn’t a seventh grade dance, so spill it, sister,” she coaxes. Thin chocolate slits stare at me in partial amusement.

  I exhale in defeat. “There’s a guy out there on the dance floor.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Of course there’s a guy, Eve,” she says as if it’s common knowledge.

  I throw her a snotty look.

  “Eve.” My name comes out as a moan. “A guy’s always the reason a normally sane individual such as yourself would drag her friend across a dark club and into the bathroom without an explanation. Otherwise, you would be peeing or putting on gloss.” She growls and sits in the chair opposite of me.

  I’ve got to give it to her; her logic is reasonable this time. I sit back, cross my legs, and entwine my hands over my stomach while ignoring her sound statement.

  “So this guy, Asher, he’s in my Architecture class. Today after class, he cornered me and made some offhanded, bizarre comment about my name. Then whenever he opened his mouth, he insulted me by complimenting me.” I sulk. “Anyway, he’s out there, dancing with some blonde bimbo,” I attempt to explain my ridiculous response t
o him, but it’s not very articulate.

  Aria just stares at me, her expression is unreadable. She’s watching me like I’m going to explode.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You like him.”

  “I do not. Did you just hear a word I said? He’s rude, crass, and has no manners.”

  “Yet here we are, hiding in the bathroom, because Eve’s jealous of the hot boy and the blonde girl,” she says while tapping her pink lips with her finger in contemplation.

  I scowl at her. “He might be hot, but his personality sucks.”

  “Eve, my darling friend,” she gets up and walks over to my chair then sits on the arm. “The good news for you is that dress is incredibly sexy and enhances your killer body. Those five-inch heels give the impression your legs go on forever. Not to mention, your makeup looks fucking amazing. So, as your roommate and best friend, I say this with all the love in the world. Get you’re pretty little ass out there and show him he doesn’t matter.” She smiles and yanks me out of the chair, pushing me toward the door.

  “Aria,” I whine before turning and stopping in front of her.

  She looks up at me, showing me she isn’t going to put up with my nonsense. “Yeah?”

  I give up. “Thanks for being such an amazing friend,” I say. She’s right. I’m being dramatic.

  “Listen, let’s not do mushy-gushy friendship stuff tonight.” Then she smacks my ass. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she offers as she pushes me into the hall where Asher is leaning against the wall and looking so damn sexy. Crap. I’m screwed.

  As soon as we walk out, he lifts his head and our eyes lock. Aria swaggers over to him.

  “We’re done, hot stuff. After you finish what I am sure will be a witty conversation with her, you might want to request the song Open Arms by Journey.” She winks at him, laughing at her own joke, and walks back to the girls.

  I cross my arms. Damn he looks so attractive. Lucky wall to have him pressed against it. He has one leg bent at the knee and the other on the floor. Asher’s demeanor seems timid with one hand in each front pocket. The way he’s looking at me, all vulnerable, is completely different than the cocky guy I’ve come to briefly know and hate.

 

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