Seven Roses: Reverse Harem Romance

by Kelli Callahan

  I wasn’t getting any younger. At twenty-four, I was probably the oldest virgin left in America—maybe even the world. Everyone always said I was so pretty but I just didn’t feel like I had it—whatever it was. Mary-Katherine could walk into a club, shake her ass, and have a line of guys behind her. I didn’t have enough confidence to walk out on a dance floor and shake my ass. I hardly had enough confidence to go to a club in the first place. I hoped I would meet someone nice at the office, but I seemed to have fallen into the crack where every eligible guy was either a newlywed or a man-whore. There didn’t seem to be an in-between.

  “Okay, Sebastian. I’m going to take a shower now.” I started the water and watched him scurry away when he heard it bouncing against the bottom of the tub.

  “WOW, YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL.” Mary-Katherine smiled when I stepped out of my Uber. I tipped the driver and turned towards her.

  “This dress is way too tight.” I tugged at the hem.

  “It fits you perfectly. See, all that yoga and salad-eating paid off. You’re a skinny bitch now.” She laughed and waved to a group of people that waved back.

  “I haven’t lost any weight, I just couldn’t fit into your skinny jeans when you made me try them on while I was on my period...” My words trailed off as we got to the group and introductions were made.

  The club was just like college, but worse because we were part of the old crowd—the same crowd Mary-Katherine used to make fun of when we were in college. We gathered around a table and ordered drinks. I ordered a martini, thinking I could just hold it and sip it all night, but by the time the waitress brought it to the table, I had lost my stool to one of Mary-Katherine’s work friends. I just stood on the outer perimeter of the circle and smiled when someone looked at me, or nodded like I agreed with whatever the group said. I started to wonder why Mary-Katherine even asked me to come to the club if she was just going to ignore me.

  “Here you are, ma’am.” The waiter handed me a shot glass that smelled like tequila. I watched everyone chug theirs and I took a light sip—yep, it was tequila.

  I had too many nights purging Quetzalcoatl from my stomach and flushing him down the ceramic to ever dance with that ancient Aztecan again. I took a step towards the table to my left when the patrons walked away, and put the shot glass in the middle of their empty beer bottles. With one quick step to my right, I was back in the perimeter of the group that had become my permanent home until I could make an excuse to leave. The dress seemed to move up my hips on its own, or rub against my ribs in a way that I was sure would leave a mark, so I had to keep adjusting it. The battle never seemed to be won. The next thing I knew, a voice broke me from the war with my attire and startled me.

  Chapter 3: Max

  “Me?” She looked at me with a bit of confusion.

  “Yes, I think you’re beautiful.” Behind my back I gave a signal to Steve and the volume of the music started to get louder.

  “You what?” My words were drowned out before she could hear the last word.

  “I said, I think you’re beautiful.” I leaned closer to her, my lips nearly against her ear so she could hear my words.

  “I’m sorry.” She blushed and stared at me, her eyes blinking. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Tell me you already know it. Tell me that guys say that to you all the time.” I let my lips drag against her earlobe.

  “Guys don’t say that...” She tugged at her dress.

  “They should. That dress looks really uncomfortable.” I could see redness in her cheeks and they were already starting to glow with faint radiating blush.

  “I borrowed it from my friend.” She pointed towards the table. “She’s over there.”

  “You can return it when you pick it up off the floor tomorrow morning.” I put my hand on her arm and let my finger slide down the sensitive skin near her wrist.

  “Uh... Um...” She took a step back and tried to say something, but the music drowned her out.

  “I can’t hear you.” I mouthed and motioned for her to say it in my ear.

  “I said I’m not that kind of girl.” She spoke directly into my ear and I ran my fingers along her arm again.

  “Why don’t we just go somewhere quieter and talk then? I really do think you’re beautiful, but it is too loud to talk in here.” I reached for her hand and started walking towards the door.

  She was mine.

  The music was so loud that it was probably hard for her to even think, much less figure out what I was saying. I flashed a thumbs-up to Steve as I walked towards the door and he started lowering the volume before customers started to complain. He knew my tricks because he had seen them repeated so many times. I could feel Abby’s hand sweating as we walked through the crowd and outside the club. The evening air felt nice after being trapped in a room filled with sweating college students. The second we were outside the club, she pulled her hand away and shook her head.

  “I need to get back to my friends. That sip of tequila must have really done me in, because I don’t know you.” She moved her hand in a half-circle wave. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “Wait, don’t go.” I stepped forward and took her by the hand, preparing to ooze charisma filled with all the manners I could muster—it was a wonderful mask to wear when I met the kind of good girls I liked best. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m obviously not very good at talking to women in clubs. That’s my fault. I just wanted to get your attention.”

  “You seem nice.” Her lips twisted into nervous uncertainty and she looked down at the ground.

  Here comes the fucking but.

  “But, I’m not really interested in going home with someone I just met and I’m not sure the kind of guy that would want that sort of thing is really my type.” Her smile twisted to one of pity, like she felt sorry for me.

  “I came on too strong.” I nodded. “I get that. I’m not upset with you for being concerned. I don’t get out much. I’m just a guy that saw a beautiful girl and got a little ahead of myself. You don’t sound like much of a drinker. Would you like to get coffee instead? There’s a nice little coffee shop right over there. You can see it from here. They’re open all night and we can just talk until your friends are done.” I gave her my best I love you smile, buried behind a remorseful stare.

  “I really don’t want to go back inside.” She sighed. “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”

  “Awesome.” I extended the crook of my elbow towards her and smiled as she put her hand in it.

  “Let’s start over. My name is Abby—short for Abigail and I don’t mind if you call me that.” She looked up at me with a smile forming where I had previously seen nothing but hesitation.

  Mine. Mine. Mine. All. Fucking. Mine.

  “Hey girl. Don’t go falling in love with him. He’ll break your fucking heart.” I looked to the line of people waiting to get into the club and saw one of the women step out of line. She started walking towards us with a purpose, her high heel shoes slamming on the sidewalk with each step.

  God, what was her name. I knew her. I fucked her. Valerie? No, it was Veronica.

  “I’m sorry, she’s just a crazy person.” I tried to keep Abby’s hand in the crook of my arm, but she stopped walking and turned around.

  “This guy?” She pointed at me with her thumb. “Max?”

  “Yeah, Max.” Veronica let out a laugh. “What did he do? Offer to take you for coffee so you could have some time to talk? You may think you’re clever enough to resist his charm right now, but give him an hour. Your panties will be drowning in your pussy and begging him to come save them.”

  “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Veronica.” I gave her a death stare, but I knew it was all over with Abby. The rest of the patrons in line were paying attention as well, and Abby seemed a little nervous.

  “We call him Mr. Mistake, those of us that let him in. We fell for his charm, fell for his good looks, and of course the fact he’s filthy rich doesn’t hurt. You can follow him and join our
club tomorrow morning—he won’t be there when you wake up. Or, you can go back inside with your friends where you’re safe.” Veronica pointed towards the door.

  “Abby...” I let out a sigh.

  “I’m sorry, I should go.” Abby looked down at the ground as she ran back towards the door.

  “This place really needs more bouncers.” I sighed angrily. “Are you still that pissed off at me? It’s been what, two years?”

  “That’s the problem, Mr. Mistake—you’re unforgettable. Now that she’s gone, why don’t you take me home and I can make that mistake again.” Veronica walked closer and took my hand as the crowd finally stopped staring.

  “We’ve had this talk before. It’s not happening.” I turned and motioned towards my driver who was waiting on the other side of the street.

  He did a u-turn out of his parking space and pulled up to the curb. I climbed into the passenger door and slammed it shut, watching Veronica stomp her high heel before she walked back towards the line.

  Veronica was a bit of an anomaly. I thought she was a sweet, innocent young woman when I first met her, but she turned out to be a freak. It was a fun night but it was never going to be forever. Veronica seemed to have other ideas and she stalked me for a bit, posting shit about me on social media. She coined the term, Mr. Mistake, and even used it as a hashtag for some of her friends. Occasionally, I would run into her and she would try to get me to take her home. It was the first time she had ruined a date for me, and I was angry I had to go home alone because of her interference.

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