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Tiny Dancer

Page 7

by J. M. Worthington


  Me: and Humble pie for lunch.

  Lucas: I am humble, baby. Very humble.

  Me: How did you get my number? Stalking much?

  Lucas: Stalking is a little hard when you have no Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. I tried.

  He admitted to looking me up on social media. An involuntary smile broke out on my face. It was so big it almost hurt. I had to confess I was a little more than flattered.

  Me: Don’t like to be found. How did you manage the impossible?

  Lucas: Swapped a favor with Will.

  So, that was what they were trading.

  Me: Why would you want it? You made it clear how you felt about me.

  Lucas: I freaked out. You agreed we could be friends. Please. Let me your friend.

  Friends? Those pesky birds fluttered across my stomach. We could try the friend’s thing. After all, I could use a friend.

  Me: Friends. But don’t expect anything from me and I sure as hell won’t expect anything from you.

  Lucas: Sounds great, too many people expect too much from me anyway.

  Now, can we go do something as friends?

  Yes, especially if you show up on that motorcycle or wearing only that smile.

  Me: Sure, I can be friendly.

  Lucas: What time should I show up for some friendly stalking?

  Me: 4 but only if you’re very friendly.

  Lucas: The friendliest. See you then. Tootles, babe

  I placed my phone on the kitchen counter. I needed a shower and a change of clothes before he showed up, because at that second, I smelled like sweat and grease. I seemed to always smell like grease. An occupational hazard of working in a grease-pit. I rummaged through my closet and came across the only decent thing I had to wear: a fitted sundress that clung to me but still concealed my scars. I tried to picture myself in it on the back of Lucas’s bike; it was a glorious sight, enough to make my heart race at the thought.

  I grabbed a pair of boxers out of the drawer. No way was I not having a barrier between Lucas’s backside and me. I was planning on leaving him wanting and needing, not myself.

  My mom never missed an opportunity to inform me that my addictions would be what destroyed me. Annie Prieto had become an addiction who had the power to do it.

  There was something about her; I could not get out of my mind. She had some crazy connection to my family I still hadn’t figured out, and the thought of trying to be her friend was crazy. The past was confusing enough; trying to predict where all this would lead was pointless. Even knowing all of that, I couldn’t stay away. All I wanted was to feel her ample body on the back of my bike, holding on tight to me.

  I pulled up outside her home and started to dismount from my bike when the front door opened and she walked out wearing a short, little sundress that not only showcased her body, but also screamed that it was the tightest little body any man would be lucky to hold. I planned on playing the friend thing but keeping my hands off her in that dress was going to be damn near impossible.

  “Hey,” she said, looked up at me, and slowly pulled her teeth over her bottom lip.

  Damn, she was too much. She wasn't like the other girls I’d fooled around with. They played the damsel in distress bullshit. Not Annie — she didn’t play games and gave as good as she got.

  Her hand moved over the hem of her dress, causing it to ride up even higher over her already too-exposed thigh. That dress was going to cause me to get in a fight. I might’ve agreed to the friend card, but my body knew it was a lie before it even came out of my mouth. And I would be damned if I stood by and watched her with anyone else. I’d find a way to show every other man she was off the market and still stay within the friend zone.

  “Quit checking out the legs. I’ve got shorts on under the damn dress.”

  “You have on a dress? Never noticed,” I said and held out my hand to help her climb on the back. I was close to forgetting it wasn’t a date. Just two friends hanging out.

  True to Annie’s style, she bypassed my hand and gripped my shoulder before throwing her long, lean leg over the cycle. The sweet smell of strawberries invaded my nostrils and sent a bolt of electricity to my groin. I froze and inhaled deeply. That was no artificial smell of perfume. Just the sweet smell of Annie. I handed my extra helmet to her. There was no way I was letting anything happen to her.

  I held my breath and adjusted my pants when she slipped her arms around my waist and pressed her very abundant breasts to my back. This was the main reason for the addiction she had caused in me. Her naked legs involuntarily squeezed by thighs. It felt nice. Too damn nice.

  “Hold on, baby. I’m going to take you on a ride you'll never forget,” I said, and pushed the cycle backward with my feet. “Ready?” I added, and with a flick of my wrist, I pulled out onto the street.

  I sped down the street at twice the speed limit just to hear her squeal. Enjoying the sounds, she made. Every other girl simply gave me a headache.

  No longer caring what connection she had to my screwed-up family, I was determined to mean a whole lot more to her than just a friend.

  Chapter 10

  Annie Prieto

  A wet dream was the only explanation I could come up with — a very hot and visual wet dream. After all, no man I’d ever come across compared to Lucas. He said we were friends. How the hell was I supposed to pretend we were only friends when I wanted more? Much more.

  When I stepped out on that porch and caught the sight of him straddling that hunk of metal in a pair of skintight jeans, a vintage cowboy shirt, boots, and looking at me like I was the dessert for the night — bless my heart, have mercy on my soul, damn — that pesky tingling raced through my body. Cowboys had never been my thing, but Lucas in those cowboy boots had suddenly become my thing.

  When I walked up to his bike, his eyes roamed over my body, and when they reached my legs, his nostrils flared. I tried to come up with a smart remark but I could only manage to get out a "hey." Then the nerves sit in. I had to bite my lip to control the trembling.

  Noticing him studying me a little more than I found comfortable. I had to make a comment about my dress and wanted to kiss him when he snapped a remark immediately back at me. Maybe Bob was right and Lucas was the big, bad wolf because no guy had ever held my attention like him.

  He held out his hand to help me on the bike, but I knew if I took it, my heart would do silly stuff, I braced myself with the help of his shoulders. I should’ve simply taken his hand because sitting with his back pressed firmly against the front of my body caused my heart to leap anyway. I wondered if Lucas could feel it beating, because it was hammering so hard, I could hear it vibrating in my ears.

  The daredevil in him took joy in scaring the daylights out of me. After a while, it became a game between us — the bigger the stunt he pulled, the harder I held on.

  I was enthralled with his every movement, I never realized he had pulled off at, of all places, a honky-tonk.

  Fast Jack’s was located in a building that was large but less than impressive. It appeared to be made from simple large wood planks, and the outside and inside walls were covered in large florescent beer signs. It must have been popular, because every parking spot was taken and the side field was almost filled to capacity, and it was only five. Lucas pulled around back. Little Big Town’s “Girl Crush” was blaring out of every window.

  Lucas knocked the kickstand out with his foot and turned slightly to whisper, “I have a girl crush.”

  The tingling inside had taken over. I was officially swooning. Mr. Carter, that was almost romantic, not a very friendly thing to say.

  He took my hand to guide me off the cycle. After riding for a little over an hour, my legs wobbled as soon as my feet hit the ground. Lucas gripped my hips to steady me.

  “Careful, baby,” Lucas said. The sound of his voice dropped an octave and grew husky, signaling he was affected by the connection between us as much as I was.

  He carefully removed my helmet and ran his han
ds through my hair to separate the knots with his fingers.

  “Beautiful,” he said and took my hand. Beautiful, there was that word again. Lucas had officially captured me.

  The bouncer waved in Lucas who held my hand tighter as we bypassed a line going into the building. Beer, sweat, and musk assaulted my nostrils the moment we step through the door.

  They were checking IDs inside, except for Lucas’s and mine. Lucas flashed his sideway grin and the bouncer slapped an armband on the both of us. “Hey, Lucas,” came from more than one barmaid as he led me across a wood floor covered in peanut shells to a small booth in the corner.

  “I take it that you come here often,” I stated as I slid on to the bench closest to the wall.

  “Yeah, it’s where I come when I need to get away.” Lucas looked up at the waitress who appeared before he fully even sit down. “Two beers,” he said and held up two fingers in her direction.

  “I’ll have them right up,” the waitress, who looked a bit high from just being in the presence of Lucas said, and wrote down our drink order.

  I rolled my eyes at the unprofessional work ethic of the waitress and caught a glance of a group of girls in cowboy hats staring inquisitively at Lucas. After seeing him with Candice, I seriously doubted they had a chance at catching Lucas’s eye.

  “Can’t picture Candice here; she looks more country club than honky-tonk,” I said, not meaning to let my thought slip out. Actually, I wanted to kick myself for even admitting I knew who Candice was.

  Lucas leaned over the table, supporting his upper body with his elbows, his blue eyes vibrated as they bore into mine. “I’ve never brought her here. This is the place I escape to when I can’t take anymore.”

  “Then why am I here?” I asked, and then took a swig of the beer the waitress had already placed on the table. I was always told alcohol was flammable, and it tasted that way as it burned down the back of my throat.

  He pulled the bottle from my mouth. “I honestly couldn’t tell you. I just thought you might need an escape too.”

  He brought the beer bottle up to his lips and looked around the room. The beer bottle I was just drinking out of. It was hot as hell.

  I wasn’t just falling for Lucas. I’d tumbled down the Mt. Everest of lust. That thought terrified me. I wasn’t in a good place in life to fall for anyone, especially someone I could feel for.

  "How old are you?" I asked.

  He placed a finger over his lips before whispering, "Just turned twenty in February."

  "Then how …" I said and raised the beer bottle I was holding.

  "I slept with the owner," he said, and unrolled his silverware before straightening them beside his plate, and without looking back up, he added, "Don't judge me, I'm young, and she’s a pretty damn good-looking woman."

  “With all the attention you get around here, why did you go off to college?”

  “I haven’t been in college. I’ve been in rehab for the past three months.”

  Rehab? When a guy admitted to going to rehab, a girl should run. But I’ve never been accused of being very smart.

  “You haven’t been at college?”

  My smile instantly dropped as my mind wandered to what my foster brother was capable of doing when he was strung out on drugs. Was Lucas capable of the same?

  “No, that was what my parents told everyone to save face.” He took another sip of his beer. I was positive it was to keep from looking me in the eyes.

  The warning from Bob came to my mind. What has Lucas done in the past?

  “I won’t deal with a drug addict.”

  “I certainly hope not, but there is more than one reason to go to a rehab.” He looked over his shoulder and worked his tense jaw back and forth before tipping his beer bottle back and gulping half of it down.

  “Is liquor not a drug?” I asked.

  “Liquor is one sedative I can control. It’s almost a necessity in my family.”

  Those girls in cowboy hats were laughing. One even had the nerve to wink at him. Lucas didn’t seem to be interested in the least — he was annoyed.

  “I won’t take part in any drug use.”

  “I sure as hell hope not,” he said, distracted.

  Those girls laughed at something, and it felt as if Lucas was ready to bolt. A subject change was desperately needed.

  “Have you always lived here?” I asked.

  “Of course, I’m a Carter. Where else would I live?” He was working his jaw again, increasingly irritated with that group of girls.

  The beer started to dilute my judgment and heat my blood. The warmth started radiating from deep in my belly and soon enough my ears were hot and I could no longer feel the tip of my tongue. I placed my hand on my head then Lucas’s face started to blur around the edges.

  Lucas’s attention was fully on me, his eyes widened. “Are you okay? You look like you are about to throw up.”

  I slightly shook my head. “I didn’t know beer would affect me this fast.”

  “Annie, how many beers have you drunk?”

  “Tonight or ever?”

  “Ever?”

  I raised the bottle on the table and shrugged a shoulder. He immediately reached out to take the bottle from me and flagged down a waitress. “You need to eat something. Why didn’t you tell me you’ve never drunk before?”

  “I didn’t think it mattered.”

  “Everything about you matters.” Lucas turned to give the waitress our order so I couldn't see his face, but could tell by his shoulders he had gotten stiff. “Can we get an order of chili cheese fries, two cheese burgers, and a sweet tea for the both of us?”

  When the waitress walked off, Lucas placed his arm on the back of the bench he was sitting on and smiled over at me. “The chili fries are amazing; if you promise to dance with me later, I might share them with you.”

  I clasped my fingers together and straightened my arms out over the table. “Maybe, if you promise not to let me fall.”

  “Never, baby, never.”

  The guy sitting in front of me held my attention like no one ever before. I could stare at him all night, but the waitress arrived with a smile for Lucas and our food. The waitress diverted our attention to two plates holding the biggest cheeseburgers I had ever seen, two sweet teas, and a platter full of fries, cheese, and chili. Lucas didn’t waste any time grabbing a fry and popping it in his mouth. I laughed when a string of cheese trickled down over the side of his mouth.

  After only one bite, I became hooked. The food was surprisingly delicious. “Now I know why you drive so far out of the way. It’s really good,” I said, then wiped my napkin over the corner of my lips.

  “Of course it is, but I really come for the company.”

  I chewed the bite I’d taken and placed the napkin over my mouth. “The owner?”

  “No, she is one of the reasons I would want to stay away. I keep coming back because no one I know in my everyday life would step foot in this place. I can be me here.”

  “I like this you,” I said, sitting my tea glass on the table. “This you is worthy of my company.”

  “Your company. Is your company that great?” Lucas playfully narrowed his eyes and licked the corner of his lip. “Someone needs a little ego deflating,” he said and stabbed a fry with his fork as he laughed.

  My ego is all bark and no bite. Matter of fact, it is nonexistent.

  “I think your ego has met its match,” I said and took another bite.

  He paused before finally taking a bite and slowly chewed before saying, “Oh, babe, I think I can handle anything you got.”

  “Prove it.” I cocked my head to the side and went into full-blown eye-staring mode, hoping to mask my low self-esteem.

  His playful expression vanished, and in its place, was a more challenging one.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to have a war of words with him, walk away before it all got too intense, or rip his clothes off. Well, I wanted the latter, but maybe not in a bar.

&nbs
p; “You should really cover up those legs because they are kind of puny, and your hair has some split ends, and I won’t even start on that face,” he said.

  I tried to appear unaffected by the words he was saying, but they hurt. If he felt that way, why did he even have me there? I rubbed my hands up and down my legs, wishing I could physically cover them. He tipped his head to the side and laughed.

 

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