The Next Contestant

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The Next Contestant Page 6

by Dani Evans


  Saturday rolls around and I force myself out of bed. We have practice this morning. Ugh. After I get myself cleaned up and ready to go, I head down to Tiffany’s and drag her out of bed. “Hurry up and get your practice attire on so we’re not late.”

  She groans. “Yeah, yeah,” and then she’s off to the bathroom rushing to get ready. She comes out and we take my beamer to practice.

  Per usual, Sandy is giving me the evil eye. She flips her hair over her shoulder, then turns away. Darcy is next to her but is focusing on her next move.

  We finish practicing after umpteen times of repeating the choreograph.

  “All right, girls. Practice is over, but I’m looking for some suggestions, ideas for changing up the routine a bit. If you have any suggestions, stay after and talk to me,” Coach Step announces.

  I stay after and listen to Sandy’s suggestions. I have to admit, their pretty good, but I feel my ideas will work better, or if she’d stop being a bitch to me, we could come up with one hot dance for the Dance Off competition.

  “Great, Sandy. Okay, Kimber, let’s hear your suggestions.”

  “I agree with some of Sandy’s ideas, but there are some things I think we should add or change in some of the routines, especially the ‘Dirty’ dance we’re going to do at one of the biggest competitions. Since we’re doing a routine to Christina Aguilera’s “Dirty” I think we should have some steamy scenes play into the routine.” I show Coach by doing the moves, but Sandy keeps butting in and we’re going round and round battling over the routine. She keeps ignoring me and my suggestions! It’s pissing me off. I’m going to confront her, and if she still ignores me, then I’m going to talk to Coach Step privately.

  “Yes, I agree you both have great ideas. I suggest you put your heads together and keep working on it.” Coach nods toward the exit, her way of telling us to go home, we’re done for the day.

  Instead of changing out of my sweaty tank and shorts, I grab my bag and walk toward the exit in the gym, where Tiffany is waiting. I can hear Sandy and Darcy behind me whispering, but obviously not very secretly.

  “Why not? I think her ideas are great,” Darcy says. Sandy must have elbowed her because Darcy oomph’s and then grunts. “God, rude. I mean both your ideas together, bitch.”

  They both chuckle. I want to glance over my shoulder and smile real big at both of them, to piss Sandy off and get another wench scowl from her, but I don’t.

  “You excited for tonight?” Tiffany’s eyes are all saucy and big. I think she’s just as excited as I am.

  “I’m excited and nervous. He said to dress casual but won’t tell me what restaurant he’s taking me to, or maybe he’s bluffing me.” Bluffing me. I think about it and my stomach knots up with the idea he might have plans to take me to a hotel or something. I have to be real. He’s a guy. He’s hot. He’s got a long list of fan girls, or so I’ve heard. No way will I allow a hotel. Nope. Not for a while anyway.

  I TAKE LONGER than usual to get ready. I slip into my favorite Rock Revival blue jeans with bling pockets. They hug the globes of my butt cheeks and make my ass look good. At least that’s what my girlfriends said when we’d went shopping a few months ago. I pull a green silky shirt carefully over my long but perfectly curled hair. It’s an armless, backless shirt that ties around my neck. My accessories consist of a thin silver chain with a diamond pendant dangling just below my collarbones and my earrings are simple one-carat diamond studs. I add a touch of shimmery gloss to my lips to enhance their natural pink color.

  I race out of my dorm when Jax texts me and tells me he’s pulling into the parking space, and nearly tumble out of the elevator in my hurry to exit the building. I wasn’t about to let him tell me he’d greet me at my room, which he believes is on the second floor; Tiffany’s room.

  His black Jag is parked front and center and as he steps out, he’s texting and not looking my way. My phone vibrates in my purse and I know he’s just texted me to buzz him through. I can’t help the giggle that escapes me when he glances up to find me already standing outside.

  My heart melts when he smiles warmly. We both move toward each other and he wraps me in a hug to greet me. God. He smells so damn good and when he steps back, I take in his appearance. He looks divine in his dark blue denims, and white form fitting t-shirt that hugs his chest, shoulders, and defines his perfectly ripped abs. My cheeks flush when I catch him doing the same to me.

  “You look fucking beautiful. Casual yet dressy and I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands to myself with the exposed skin on your back,” he says then licks his lips.

  I clear my throat. “Feeling’s mutual, Mr. Nash.”

  “You’re going to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself with my exposed skin?” he mocks and chuckles, then grabs my hand and leads me to his car.

  Jax doesn’t say much for most of the ride, but I catch him sneaking peeks at me out of the corner of my eye. When I glance at him, he grins then looks ahead. His fingers tap on the steering wheel as he listens to some jazzy tune. It’s an odd choice, I think, especially after going to a rock concert. A far cry from the Hot Wired concert or Nine Inch Nails and the way he sang the very dirty parts in my ear… the memory makes me shiver.

  “What song is this?” I ask.

  Jax glances at me. “What Do You See In Me by The Licked Blues. It’s a local indie talent. I like a variety of music, not just seductive or rock music.” He winks and then turns his attention back to the road.

  “I like it. It’s kind of soothing.” Actually, it’s more romantic, but that would be odd to say to Jax. Guy’s aren’t really all romantic, at least not openly.

  A red lighted sign, THE CUTTING EDGE - A Cut Above The Rest, beams as we pull into a nearly filled parking lot.

  Ever the gentleman, Jax opens my door, reaches for my hands, and helps me out of my seat.

  We walk hand-in-hand as we make our way inside. Jax informs the attendant of his reservation. I glance around the extravagant, brightly lit dining room. But it isn’t your ordinary restaurant or fancy eatery. There are partitions and behind the ones I can see, there are shiny metal counters with a grilling space on top.

  “Right this way, the greeter boy says and leads us in the back, toward some expensive looking deep maroon curtains. He brushes it open with a quick sweep of his hand. “Here you are. Please take a seat and review the menu. Once you’ve decided on what meal you’d like to prepare, pick up the phone,” he points toward the phone built into the wall above the velvety maroon booth. “And order. Instructions come with your meal and all the supplies: knives, spatula, oils, spices, are all at the chefs station.” He waves toward the grill.

  Jax slides into the booth, turns slightly, and pats the seat beside him. After I take my spot, next to him, I notice his gaze is feasting on my green silky V-neck shirt.

  “Sorry for staring, but you’re beautiful.” He slips his hand over mine.

  “Thank you.” I turn away not knowing what else to say to his compliment. “So how does this work?” I ask as I open the menu.

  He leans into me and looks at the menu over my shoulder. “You’ve never been here?”

  “No. Never. It’s so different. I like the atmosphere.”

  “It’s private. That’s why I chose it. And maybe to check out your…” he inhales and I’m pretty sure he’s smelling me, before he continues. “… Cooking skills.”

  “Then you’ll be disappointed. Better choose something easy because I’m no Chef Ramsey.”

  “No?” he asks, surprise in his voice.

  “Um. No. Not unless you like a big juicy wiener.” I giggle.

  Jax leans into me further, his lips so close to my ear I can feel his breath. “I’ve got one of those and it’s already thick and hot.” He nips my ear and god! He’s so bold it’s sexy. “All it needs is a little lip smacking goodness.”

  He chuckles and continues. “Or a warm bun to crawl into.”

  I elbow him. “You have a dirty mind.


  “You have no idea,” he says and licks my ear before he sits back and takes the menu from me. “I’ll pick something easy.”

  Jax orders the meal we will be cooking.

  A male waiter wearing a black three-piece suit with a tie that has vegetables imprinted on it steps in. He’s carrying a big metal tray covered with an equally sized lid.

  “Good evening,” he greets us as he sets the tray on the counter. “Can I get you something to drink while you prepare your meal?”

  “A bottle of Dom Perignon” Jax says.

  “A bottle of Dom Perignon coming right up,” the waiter repeats and escapes the room.

  “Isn’t that expensive?” I ask, never having tasted wine before, but I think my parents have that in their wine collection. My father once mentioned they preferred the more expensive kind.

  “Believe me, there are a lot more expensive wines, but I think you will like this one,” Jax says as he nudges me out of the velvety booth.

  I step up to the metal table and remove the lid from the tray. “Fajitas?” I ask as I look at the ingredients.

  Jax slips behind me, his front to my back, cheek resting against mine as he says, “Yes, steak fajitas. Do you think you can manage chopping up some tomatoes, green peppers, and onions, wiener girl?” I feel his smile against my cheek.

  The waiter returns before I can respond. Jax steps to my side and begins pulling spices and olive oil out of the shelf.

  The waiter sets the fancy bottle and two wine glasses on the table at our booth and leaves us to our cooking duties.

  We work together harmoniously chopping and slicing our dinner. Jax works the grill and I can’t help but watch him. He’s tosses, flips and marinates the steak, peppers, and onions expertly. Then he throws in some spices, stirs it a bit, then swipes it onto a heated plate.

  I turn before he can catch me staring at him and begin slicing tomatoes. I startle a bit when Jax steps up behind me. His hands find my hips, sliding seductively forward, his breath on my neck, he uses his chin to brush my hair out of the way, licks my neck… up, down… nibbles… drags his lips and teeth over my jaw… fingers sliding across the low-rise of my jeans, toward the button, but he teases with his fingers finding the flesh of my belly. Gently moving them higher, his breathing hitches. His body is flush against mine causing my heart rate to spike. I know his is too. I can feel it thudding on my shoulder. He cups my breasts, thumbs sliding along the sides of my bra, butterflies flipping inside my stomach, and oh how I want him to keep touching me, to strip me bare and—

  Jax steps away from me and grabs the plate of food. “It’s a bit hot in here but the food is getting cold.”

  A bit embarrassed that I didn’t stop him first, I grab the cold plate and the tortillas and follow him to the booth. After setting the contents in my hands on the table, I purposely slide into the seat opposite of Jax. He grins devilishly at me as if he knows what his touch was doing to me. Tease!

  OUR DINNER WAS fantastic. I’m so full and a little tipsy after the third glass of Dom that I polished off.

  Jax pushes our plates aside and leans forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on his folded hands. He stares at me intently as he speaks. “So tell me, Timber, are you an only child or do you have siblings?”

  “I have—” Crap. I almost screwed up! Timber has no siblings. She’s a spoiled bitch. “I have none. I’m an only child. I’ve always wanted a big brother though.” Kolby is a great brother, aside from his overprotectiveness.

  I glance at Jax and admire his handsome face. “How about you?”

  Jax stretches his hands out, cups my cheeks and pulls me face-to-face close. “No siblings. I had a brother, but he passed away when I was eight. He was three years older than me and gave me my first taste of soccer. He would have been a pro. Even at nine, he lived and breathed soccer. It was devastating for all of us when he started to get sick. Mason died two years after he was diagnosed with Leukemia.”

  My heart sinks. I can’t even imagine how awful it would be to lose your sibling. I think of Kolby and how terrible it would be if he died. It brings tears to my eyes.

  “Hey,” Jax says as he brushes his thumbs tenderly under my eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It was a long time ago. I miss him, and always will, but my life is good. My parents are awesome so don’t feel sorry for me.” His smile is just as tender as his touch.

  We stare at each other for a while, until our moment is interrupted.

  “Can I get you anything else,” the waiter asks.

  “A glass of water, please?” I’m thirsty and the wine isn’t quenching my thirst. If anything it makes my mouth a bit dry.

  “I’m good,” Jax says and pulls his credit card from his wallet.

  The waiter takes it, ducks his head, turns on his heel and leaves. A few minutes later, he returns with a glass of water, sets it in front of me along with a straw. He sets Jax’s credit card and receipt on the end of the table and leaves.

  After inserting the straw, I lean forward and suck in the cold wetness the ice water offers. I lift my eyes to find Jax staring at me. I suddenly feel nervous and begin chewing on my straw.

  Jax’s eyes shift to the straw. “Are you still hungry?” He’s staring at my lips.

  “No, why?”

  “You’re gnawing on that straw awfully hard.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I chew on it again and then release it.

  “I can think of other ways to keep your mouth busy.” He grins.

  “Such a pervert.”

  “You’re right. I am.” He stretches his arms along the small table, grasps my fidgeting hands, pulls them to his lips, and kisses every one of my fingers. His lips are so soft, so sexy and his eyes hold me captive. “No need to be nervous. I’ll try not to bite you. Until later.” And the way he smiles, so seductively it’s sinful, then he slowly releases my hands, leaps from his seat and proffers his hand.

  “Sweetheart. We’ve been subpoenaed.”

  “What?” But before I can question him further, he sweeps me onto my feet and leads me out of the room and down a long winding hall.

  I hear music and know instantly a bar is at the end of this walkway.

  Reaching the dance floor, Jax laces his hand with mine, wraps his free arm around my waist and brings me flush against him. We sway to the music.

  “You ready to party?”

  I pin Jax with narrowed eyes. “What are you up to?”

  He raises our now clasped hands over my head and twirls me. Then he leans over me, forcing me into a low dip. Bringing me upright, he quickly brushes his lips over my mouth, then wiggles his brows. “Let the fun begin.”

  He spins me around and pulls me into him, my back flush with his chest, and palms the exposed flesh on my belly. We dance slowly like this for a while. God he’s beautiful, heated, sexy, sinful. I bet he’s a fantastic lover. Every move… sensual yet dangerous—I have to stop! Stop thinking like this. I feel the sticky wetness between my thighs and it’s not good because I want him to do things to me.

  Jax’s arms are wrapped around me and we’re slowly swaying to the music. I lean into his chest and he brushes the hair away from my neck, firmly planting his lips against the exposed flesh. A new shiver spreads throughout my body, but not from the cold. I’m tempted to turn around and devour him.

  He’s doing it again, that frustratingly good sensation of his lips nipping and sucking on my neck, but this time, he slides his hand under the hem of my shirt and caresses the flesh of my lower abdomen. He slides it up further and dips his fingers into my bra. Good thing we’re in a dark, semi private area of the dance floor so no one can see the naughty things he’s doing. I have to bite my tongue when he slides his hand down below the waistband of my jeans, fingers running slightly below my panties.

  Pushing his hand a little further down, he whispers huskily against the shell of my ear. “I want you… so fuckin’ bad.”

  How do I reply to that? Feelings mutual, Mr. Nash. Yeah, that w
on’t work, so I stay quiet, but I can’t stop thinking about it, how he’d touch me, what he’d feel like inside of me. I feel a tug in my lower abdomen at the thought and I smile inwardly.

  We dance, we relax, we dance, and close the bar down. I’m so exhausted, yet every cell within me is alive. I’ve never had so much fun on a date. We finally head out.

  After we get in his car, Jax leans back against the door, and lets his head fall back against the window. “Before you say no, I want you to know I’ll be alone mostly. The guys are all leaving and Kolby is going out of town next weekend. Soooo,” he pauses, “I want you to come to the frat house. It’ll be just the two of us.”

  “I wish I could, and I would say yes, but I’ve got a family deal going on. Can’t get out of it. Sorry.”

  Jax’s turns in his seat, latches his seatbelt, and starts the car. He doesn’t say much, but only looks on as he drives ahead. I wonder if I said or did something wrong, but I’m not about to ask. I close my eyes and let my mind wander. I feel a familiar ache in my heart. I’m getting too attached to him.

  When the car comes to a halt, I open my eyes and I raise my head. We’re at the dorms.

  “THAT WAS A quick ride,” Timber says, attempting to break the silence between us.

  I nod.

  She stares at me and I can tell she’s uncertain of what to do. Why am I treating her this way? I’m irritated that she won’t come to the fraternity house. She could cancel her plans. I mean, how often am I alone there? Never. And the one opportunity I can offer her, she says she’s got plans already. Okay, so I’m being a dick and she doesn’t deserve it.

  Leaning forward, she snatches her purse, and slips out of the car. “Goodnight,” she says but doesn’t look back.

  “Wait,” I holler as she nears the entrance. Then she turns slightly to find me rushing toward her.

  “Yeah?” Timber asks in a wobbly voice.

 

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