"Hi, how's it going?" says a voice from behind.
It's Jack. He's wearing a gray shirt with tiny blue stripes, black pants, and a black leather jacket.
I don't know what Sam was talking about. He looks great to me.
"Hi," I grin back at him.
It's the first genuine smile I've given him. He's surprised by my amicable welcome and gives me a candid grin.
"Where's Sam?" he asks, still regarding me.
I fold under his intense gaze and quickly look to Marie for assistance. She points to the bar, and Jack excuses himself to go find him.
As he walks away, I take him in for the first time. He's tall — at least 6'2" — slim, broad-shouldered, with fair skin lightly kissed by the sun, and short, wavy, raven hair — hmm, that hair, very Orlando Bloom on the cover of InStyle.
And his firm behind in those pants…
Whoa, stop staring at it, Ellie!
He walks with long, firm strides, like a man who knows where he's going, what he wants, and isn't afraid to go for it. There's a confident air about him, but it's not arrogance, despite the fact that women are gawking at him.
Myself included…
He and Sam talk while they wait for the drinks. Jack is leaning against the bar sideways facing Sam, who's laughing at something Jack's saying.
His side profile is striking — perfectly symmetrical features, straight nose and chiseled jaw, like a flawlessly sculpted work of art.
Better than any model I've seen in GQ.
I have to admit, the sight of him is…stunning.
He turns our way and catches me staring.
Damn!
He grins amiably and quickly turns back to whatever entertaining exchange he's enjoying with Sam.
They're smiling when they get back to our table. It's apparent they share everything with each other — the good, the bad and the funny.
Jack hands me my drink. "Vodka tonic?" he asks, examining it.
"Water," I reply shyly.
He nods and mouths an almost silent, "Okay."
I don't know if he's making fun of me, but I let it slide. I'm determined that nothing, or anyone, will dampen my newfound good mood.
Sam is going on about the cheesy nicknames they had for each other when they were kids but won't share what they are.
"What's the point, if you don't tell us so we can laugh with you," I banter.
Jack turns to me with a coquettish smile. It's the first time he's heard me join in the conversation. He's amused.
I don't look at him long.
Yes, the ex-sourpuss girl does have a sense of humor.
"Because we don't want you laughing at our expense," replies Jack with a broad, playful grin.
I return the smile and briefly gaze at him, while I sip my water.
He quickly turns to Sam, "Right?" he prods. "Back me up, Sam."
Sam's not interested in Jack's charms on display and is practically ignoring him. He's too busy having a staring contest with Marie.
"We'll never tell," Sam finally replies and gently kisses Marie on the cheek.
I know where that's heading and so does Jack, because he asks me to go with him to grab another drink. I agree and eagerly follow him.
The way to the bar is crowded, and not wanting to lose him in the throngs of people, I hold on to the back of his jacket. He feels the pull, gently grabs my arm, and takes my hand. He weaves his long, strong fingers around mine.
When we get closer to the bar, he positions me in front of him, protecting me from crowd.
We wait patiently for our turn, and as the minutes creep by, he's getting closer and closer to me, moving me slightly forward toward the bar. I can feel his body all over mine, and his cologne fills my senses.
I don't know what it is, but it's…alluring.
Yes, very alluring!
I close my eyes briefly. I'm slightly captivated. He's so close to me, and I'm trying hard not to think about it.
"What do you want?" his warm breath tickles my ear.
I feel a delicious shiver in the back of my neck that travels through my entire body. I swear I'm turning all shades of red.
"Eh…" I can't concentrate.
The bartender stares impatiently, while I sputter like a love struck teenager.
"Nothing thanks, maybe later."
Get a hold of yourself, Ellie. He's just being polite.
"Dos XX Lager with a lot of lime, please," he says to the bartender.
When he stretches past me to pay, he leans even closer. I instinctively hold on to the edge of the bar.
"You okay?" he asks gazing at me, one of his hands is now on the bar and the other on the small of my back.
"Mhm," I reply meekly.
I don't quite understand why his slightest touch is unsettling me, though not in a bad way. Deep down, this is very exciting. I'm struggling between putting a stop to it and just letting it be.
I decide on letting it be.
It's not like we're on a date. He's just being nice to me. I can use a little nice in my life.
He shifts to his side and leans on the bar, helping me do the same with a swift move of his hand on my back. We're now facing each other, and I'm smiling timidly at him, not really knowing why.
"So, you're not drinking tonight," he says with mirth.
I shrug, feeling shy.
He takes the lime and squeezes it into the Dos XX bottle, and then stretches past me to grab the salt, his face almost touches mine. I hold my breath, but he doesn't seem fazed and smiles.
Salt in hand, he proceeds to add some to his beer.
"It's called a michelada," he explains, giving me a playful stare, "beer, lots of lime and salt, though I have to settle for the few limes they gave me."
He's studying me.
I can't help but stare at his captivating smile.
My eyes follow the beer bottle as it reaches his mouth…he takes a drink.
That looks…yummy!
CHAPTER 10
"WANT A TASTE?" he offers, bringing me back to the here and now.
Is he flirting with me?
It takes me a second to realize he's just being gracious. I can use gracious.
I take the beer from his hand without saying a word and take a sip.
Mmm, it is good.
I hand the bottle back to him, and he takes another drink.
"What's your degree in, Ellie?"
"Music business management," I say with pride.
"Interesting. I hear you're working at a record label."
He hears…How?
"What genre of music are you hoping to ultimately work in?" he inquires and hands me the beer.
I take another sip and hand it back to him.
"How do you know I work at a record label?"
"Sam," he says. "I figured I should know something about you. I didn't want to seem rude and have nothing to talk about, should you choose to speak to me this time." He grins teasingly and takes a drink.
I behaved like a moronic zombie the first time we went out. Of course he thinks I'm rude. This is my chance to change his impression of me, and show him I'm actually a very nice, attentive, and fun person.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude to you last time," I look at him briefly, before my confidence falters.
"I wouldn't say rude, just…quiet." He hands me the beer.
His response makes me feel a little better about our first outing at that pub.
He doesn't think I'm rude. How does he do that, instantly make me feel better about myself?
"So, your degree, it's not a traditional choice. Are you hoping to make music at some point?" he questions.
I take a drink and hand the bottle back to him. He's examining me closely. I'm looking everywhere but directly at him, because he's making me nervous.
"No, not really. I'm not exactly musically gifted. I'm just interested in the music business and want to be involved behind t
he scenes," I halfway roll my eyes, desperately trying to escape his gaze. It's too intense, like he can see through all my walls. I stare at the beer instead.
"I see," he says, still watching me.
This time he doesn't immediately hand me the beer. He notices I'm eyeing it and playfully passes it to me. Then he motions the bartender. "Dos XX, lots of lime on the side."
Maybe he's done sharing his beer with me. The thought is displeasing.
"I think you're musical. I've heard you sing along to the radio," he smirks.
I think he might be taunting me.
Ugh, I do tend to do that. How embarrassing!
The bartender places another beer and more limes on the bar, but Jack ignores them. Instead, he focuses on the beer I'm holding. He takes it and swiftly drinks the last of it. He places the empty bottle on the bar, prepares the new one, and hands it to me.
I smile relieved, take a drink, and my eyes involuntarily land on his lips.
They look so tasty...
Stop staring at them, Ellie!
"That doesn't mean I have musical talent. It just means I can follow along to a song that's well sung by someone with real talent," I say amused at myself.
He doesn't respond and instead just takes the beer.
I move my gaze to the collar of his shirt. It's a safer bet than his fleshy, kissable lips.
"How about you?" It's his turn to disclose some details about himself, Mr. Women-love-him Jack.
I look at him fleetingly.
He's grinning.
"Oh, I can't sing to save my life," he teases, making me giggle.
Hmm, and he's funny…
"I meant, what do you do? I hear you're great with numbers."
"Is that so?" he frowns, holding the beer mid-air to his mouth. "Says who?"
"Unimportant," I reply quickly.
Damn him and his lips!
"Oh," he's taken aback, maybe realizing it was Mike. "Well, I am," he grins proudly, "or at least I like to think so. I've done pretty well."
He takes a long sip and hands the bottle back to me.
"You manage businesses?" I inquire and quickly add, "Marie, tells me."
"Yes, several coffee shops, and we're expanding," he eyes the idle beer in my hand, and I quickly hand it back to him.
"Interesting," I mirror his previous comment to me, teasing him.
His mouth twists in amusement, and he takes a drink.
"Why did you decide to move to LA?" he hands me the beer.
I don't want to lie to him, but I also don't want to tell him Mike was part of the reason. I'm sure he already knows that, plus I don't want to sour our pleasant conversation.
I opt for a half-truth.
"This is the mecca of the record business. Well, here and New York. And although my best friend, Rob, lives in New York, Marie is like my sister. I thought the transition would be easier with her. Plus, you can't beat the weather."
I'm over clarifying, because his damn lips are making me so nervous, and I'm trying to avoid saying the name Mike at all costs. I don't think he notices, and if he does, he's kindly giving me a pass.
"That makes sense," he grins and takes the beer from my hand, allowing his fingers to brush softly against mine. He's getting feisty and flirtatious.
"Have you ever lived anywhere else?" I ask, absentmindedly twisting a strand of hair with my fingers, the nervous energy getting the best of me.
"No, but I wouldn't mind moving, provided I had a good reason to," he replies self-assured, as he takes my fingers away from my hair. He holds them gently for the briefest of moments and then hands me the bottle.
I gaze at his lips, as my mind wanders, "Wow, he just did that..."
"And your family, are they all back in Chicago?" he asks.
I take a drink of the beer and come back to earth.
"Yes. Yours?" I quickly hand him back the bottle and take a deep breath. I let it out slowly. I don't know if it's the alcohol that's getting to me, or my impulse to kiss his beautiful lips.
"All in California."
He takes a drink and hands me the bottle. I take a tiny sip and immediately give it back.
"Do you have any siblings?" he inquires.
"Two sisters, much older than me. You?"
"A younger sister. Are your sisters as beautiful as you?" he takes a drink, eyeing me with a coy, flirty grin.
He thinks I'm beautiful? Maybe he is flirting with me. Why is that pleasing?
I shrug embarrassed by his compliment and smile back. If I say yes, I'll sound vain. If I say no, I'll still sound conceited, because he's going to think I'm saying I'm the only pretty one. All three of us are beautiful in our own way, but that's too long of an explanation. Besides, the opportunity for a sensible answer has passed, because the look he's giving me is making me blush tomato red.
We go on and on like this for the next hour, both of us sharing one bottle of beer.
He's attentive, engaging, and charming.
Why didn't I know this? Why hadn't I ever spoken to him before?
But I already know the answer. I've been wearing blinders that had only one line of sight directly to Mike.
Now Jack has my full, undivided attention. I can't ignore the fact that he's Mike's best friend and what that could mean. I feel guilty I'm enjoying him so much, that he's making me feel so comfortable, that for the first time in a long while my past isn't front and center in my thoughts.
What is this? How is this happening?
"The bar sure looks like a good spot to be," jokes Marie.
She and Sam have made their way to us.
"Easy to get refills," I jest.
CHAPTER 11
IT'S PAST 11:00 P.M., and the music inside Busby's is loud and not appropriate for conversation. Marie's dancing and failing miserably at getting Sam to move along with her.
Jack just prepared another beer, but unlike before he doesn't hand it to me first. He takes a long drink…his eyes taunting me.
"Hey!" I playfully snatch the bottle from him mid-drink. The liquid drips from his mouth onto his shirt. He leans forward to wipe it. When he looks up at me, his eyes are lit up with playfulness and mischief. I'm laughing at him, holding the beer in my hand.
Before I know it, he reaches for me. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me tightly against him. I don't have a chance to react, when suddenly his lips are on mine.
He's kissing me.
His tongue is prodding me to respond. Strong, full, divine lips have taken me by surprise, and it's exhilarating. I let myself go and respond, enjoying the delicious taste of his mouth. I hold on to him with my free hand, which has made its way to the back of his neck and into his hair.
His supple lips are urgent and demanding.
My brain is on pause, while my lips are following his lead, and I'm lost in the moment.
But just as suddenly, he releases me.
No!
He quickly grabs the beer from my hand and takes a drink.
Holy crap! That was…unexpected and sexy as hell!
He's eyeing me with a salacious grin, having just bested me.
I'm smiling back at him like a dope, trying to recover from the taste of his lips.
More, please!
He's very much aware of what he just did. He knows my history with Mike but doesn't seem to care.
I can't stop staring at him, and then I notice them…Big, beautiful, mesmerizing bluish-gray eyes beneath long lashes examining me, and I sigh deeply because I finally understand what Marie meant.
I'm captivated.
I catch myself and quickly look at Marie and Sam.
Did they see what just happened?
Sam is facing away from us, and Marie is dancing with her eyes closed. They saw nothing, and a sense of relief washes over me.
Jack kissed me!
I'm giddy and can't help the thrill coursing through me.
He c
ontinues to share his beer with me, but neither of us says a word about the stolen kiss.
I want him to kiss me again, but I'm also scared he will, because there's too much at stake — he's my ex's friend.
Why did he kiss me in the first place? Does he actually like me?
I have to consult with Marie.
Sam asks Jack to order a few more drinks, and I see an opening to drag Marie to the ladies' room.
"What's up? You look like you just scored the last cookie in the cookie jar," she mocks, because I can't stop smiling like a loon.
I take a deep breath.
"Jack kissed me," I gush excitedly.
"What?" Her mouth pops open, "No!"
"Yep," I nod with the stupid grin still plastered on my face.
"When?"
"Just now, when you were dancing with Sam," I confirm.
"I didn't see a thing!"
"Sam didn't either. He was facing away from us."
Thank God!
"Game plan," she's really into this. "I'll keep Sam distracted, don't worry."
I hesitantly burst her bubble, "Eh, I don't think it's going to happen again."
"Whatever, Jack's a really nice guy, Ellie. I'll keep Sam distracted just in case. Do whatever you want," she remains unfazed by my reluctance.
She's happy for me, but she knows all too well if Sam finds out, he's going to freak because his loyalty is not only to Jack but Mike as well.
●●●
By 1:00 a.m., we're heading home.
Jack in fact did not kiss me again, but he held my hand, when Sam wasn't looking, and was playful and attentive all night.
I'm hoping he doesn't think I didn't like the kiss, because I did.
I really did!
The valet pulls up with our cars, and I hastily say, "I'll ride with Jack."
He gives me a perceptive smile and a wink and opens the car door for me. I don't know why, but I'm glad he's pleased that I'm riding home with him.
Sam is completely unaware of what's happening between us and couldn't care less. As far as he's concerned, he'll be alone in his car with Marie, and that's all he cares about.
Jack and I are driving home in silence. I'm too tired — and delighted — to risk saying anything that will ruin the night. He turns on the radio very low. Bruno Mars' "When I Was Your Man" is playing, and his sultry voice is going on about the love he lost to another man.
The Thing About Love... (The Thing About... #1) Page 4