by Harper Sloan
I find Cohen and Jace sitting in the living room watching the Braves game. This must be the week that Lexi’s not visiting, because usually they’re glued to each other, kissing and hugging and doing all that annoying shit couples ‘in love’ do.
“Damn, dude, I wasn’t sure that pretty mug still existed under all that facial hair and the angry scowls,” Jace jokes, earning a glare.
“Oh yeah? Well, I barely recognize you without the one-hundred-pound blonde appendage you’ve seemed to acquire since we got back to the States,” I shoot back at him, feeling like an asshole the moment the words leave my mouth.
In true Jace form, he just laughs it off. I’m still skeptical about this chick, but I have to admit I’ve never seen him so happy. He shrugs off my response, calling me a jaded ass in the process.
I know he’s right, but I’ve had eleven years to harden my heart, so one love story isn’t going to soften it. I hope for Jace that she’s in it for the long haul, because I don’t think I can see him heartbroken over her again. The past few weeks she’s been visiting me with him, and when I look at her, I swear I can see a girl in love, but I saw that in Megan, too. I have to admit that there’s something different about Lexi, but I’m still reserving judgment.
Cohen helps Jace off the couch and hands him his crutches. We make our way out to the car, where my brother helps me get into the back seat, as the doctor advised us to keep me away from airbags. Within moments we’re on our way to the bar, the first time I’ve been out in weeks. I’m not looking forward to going out, but I’m craving a cold draft, so I’ll deal with Cohen’s hooking up if that’s what it takes to get one. Glancing out the window, I let the radio drown out any thoughts I have, wondering what the night will bring.
APPARENTLY DANCING turned into ‘watch the Braves game with Lucy, Jenna, and Jenna’s boyfriend Brad.’ I’m actually okay with this turn of events since I don’t feel like bumping and grinding with strangers tonight. Absentmindedly, I’m sitting at the bar, twirling the straw in my Bloody Mary, watching the game on the television. To be honest, I couldn’t care less about baseball. I’m a football girl through and through, with Dad raising me as a Bama fan. The off-season is the worst time of the year, and I get bored watching baseball. Jenna and Brad are enthralled with the game, and Lucy’s off at a pool table watching a couple of cute guys play.
I wonder what the hell I’m doing here when the bar door opens and three sexy-as-sin men fill the entrance. Two of the guys are laughing as one leads the other on crutches to an open table right near the bar. They’re both attractive, the taller of the two with dark black hair cut short and just enough facial hair to look like he’s been ignoring his razor for a few days. His smile is killer, reaching all the way to his eyes as he laughs at something the shorter, cute blond guy says as he gestures to the other guy in the trio.
When he comes into view, the sight of him stops my breath. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, I-just-got-done-chopping-wood kind of way. His tall stature probably puts him at six foot two at least, and the way the tight t-shirt hugs a muscular frame has my mouth watering. I haven’t been this attracted to guy in…well, ever. It took Drew three times to ask me out before I finally said yes, but right now I’d take all my clothes off and dance on the bar if this guy wanted me to.
Down, girl. I shake the dirty thoughts of his wood out of my mind and continue to check him out shamelessly. My eyes are drawn to the cast on his left arm, and I notice his slow movements, indicating that he may be injured in other places. He definitely has the soldier look, freshly shaved face and buzzed hair. The thought that he’s a wounded warrior from Ft. Campbell crosses my mind, and I’m suddenly reconsidering Lucy’s rebound suggestion.
At this point I’m all but staring as he braces against the table to sit down. I notice the hard jawline of his face, his cheeks flexing as if in pain. The dark-haired guy places his arm on his shoulder, and the rugged man simply shakes his head and holds up a hand in a gesture that says ‘I’m fine.’ A moment later, his face transforms as he gives a heart-stopping smile to the waitress, showcasing dimples in both of his cheeks. Something about his features draws me in, and I have to make a conscious effort to stop looking at him before he realizes he has a stalker.
When I turn back to my drink, I suddenly feel lonely, even though Lucy wanted this to be a fun night out for me. Okay, she did invite me over there, but I declined. She said that she’d stay back with me, but I waved her off, telling her I’d be fine by myself. And here I am, sitting at the bar while Jenna and Brad are sucking face in the corner and she’s still off flirting with the pool players. Sighing, I order a beer and spend another twenty minutes or so playing around on my phone, getting more and more irritated at my friends. I’m almost ready to leave when I feel a presence next to me, and a masculine scent fills the air. It’s a mixture of wintery pine and cleanliness, and somehow I know it’s him.
Glancing up, I notice the sexy dimpled guy next to me trying to get the bartender’s attention, and I wonder why, since he had that waitress earlier. If I were her, I’d be making sure he was taken care of all night long. And yes, I mean in more ways than one.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to put myself out there. I don’t know if it’s the loneliness or the alcohol talking, but I’m ready to take the plunge after two months of feeling sorry for myself.
Reaching up, I tap him on the shoulder and he finally looks down at me. I smile up at him, and I’m entranced as I take in his features up close. The masculinity shows on his face, with strong cheekbones and a squared jaw. His nose is chiseled perfection, and I feel a pool of heat between my legs as I imagine him nuzzling his face against my neck, down my body, in between my legs. His lips are full, waiting, wanting, needing to be kissed, and it takes everything in me to stop from licking my own. He’s the antithesis of Drew, and that thought spurns a fire in my belly that I haven’t felt in a long time. His left arm, the one in a cast, is situated on the bar. I can see the vast span of his hand, his long fingers stretching in the bar light. Immediately, I imagine those fingers touching me, teasing me, and I have to shake my head to get my mind thinking straight.
He looks at me curiously, probably wondering why I touched him but can do nothing but stare. Before I can speak, the bartender shows up and he impatiently places his drink order. I’m still curious as to why he’s at the bar when I saw him talking to a waitress, but to be honest, I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s here next to me where I can study him up close and personal.
Once he gets his beer, he gingerly turns towards me, as if trying not to aggravate the unseen injury I’m now positive he has. I hold my hand out to his good one, and he shakes it lightly. My fingers tingle when his touch mine, and I shiver unexpectedly, a movement that causes his eyebrows to rise as he watches me over the top of his beer.
“Charlotte,” I tell him, not sure why I decide to use my given name, seeing as everyone’s called me Charlie since I was a baby. I don’t know why, but something about this guy oozes sex appeal, and Charlotte sounds so much more appealing, sophisticated, and sexy.
His hand lingers on mine as his long fingers graze my skin. Once his shot appears, he removes himself from my touch and takes it in one quick gulp. Looking down at me, he smirks, a cocky grin spreading over his face. I clench my thighs together as a wave of lust washes over me as his gaze moves up and down my body, pausing for a moment on the ample cleavage that my halter top is showcasing. Looking back up at my face, he clears his throat and shakes his head as he catches me licking my lips.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe another time, another place, Charlotte, but not tonight,” he whispers in a sexy, hushed tone before he turns and walks away from me.
Mortified and kind of in shock, I gape after him, watching his luscious backside saunter away from me as he rejoins his friends. He glances over at me and gives me a wink, and I want to crawl under the bar and pretend I don’t exist. Of course, the first time I attempt to flirt with a man he turns me down flat. Then
again, I only told him my name and stared at him like he was a masterpiece in an art gallery, drooling over him and unable to make conversation. I’m not sure that qualifies as flirting.
Rejection sucks, so when the bartender comes around, I order two shots of tequila and another beer to wash the sting of embarrassment away. I’m going to be feeling like ass tomorrow, but I’d rather forget tonight, so I down both shots in quick succession, my brain swimming, wondering why this stranger is affecting me so intensely.
The rest of the night drags on as Lucy continues to flirt with the guys at the pool table, and I begin to wonder why she even bothered to invite me. This was supposed to be an anti-guy night, drinking cocktails and dancing the night away, but it was turning out to be anything but that. I’m on an island, having switched to beer, drinking alone and playing on my phone as I watch everyone else have fun. And the one time I tried to hit on a guy? It was a failure of epic proportions, shut down before I could even get started.
Signaling to the bartender for my check, I’m ready to leave when someone plops down in the barstool next to me. Not looking up from my captivating game of Words with Friends—Dad is currently kicking my ass—I hear a throat clear, causing me to finally tear my gaze away from my phone.
A dazzling smile greets me as my eyes meet the bright blue ones of the friend Rugged Man was sitting with. Yes, I’ve deemed him Rugged Man, because I never got his name, and I-Want-To-Take-Him-Home-And-Play-Naughty-Nurse-Until-He-Makes-Me-Come Man is just way too much of a mouthful. Come to think of it, I bet he’s a mouthful, too…
Blue Eyes clears his throat again, and I can feel the crimson blush creep onto my cheeks as I push the erotic thoughts out of my mind.
“Hey, Charlotte, right?” he asks, and I groan to myself, wondering if Rugged Man told his friend about my less than stellar flirting abilities.
Taking a drink of my beer, I swallow before answering. “Yes, I’m Charlotte. I’m assuming your nameless friend over there told you that,” I comment, tilting my beer towards the table where his two buddies are sitting.
He laughs and nods, and on any other day I’d probably be swooning at the sight of him. Unfortunately, I saw the other guy up close and personal first, and despite his rejection, I still want him more. Setting his crutches against the bar, he studies me before holding his hand out. I place mine in it, and his strong fingers close in around mine as we shake hands.
“Jace McAllister. Look, I couldn’t help but over hear your…non-conversation earlier, and I just wanted to tell you that it’s not you.”
Unable to contain my laughter, I nearly choke on the sip of beer I just took and it burns my nose when I snort. Real sexy, Charlie. Rubbing my hands over my face, I cannot believe what I’m hearing. “Oh, Jesus. Fucking custodians and now the brush-off? Are you seriously giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line for your friend? Please, God, tell me this is not happening.”
His brow furrows and he starts to protest, but my tirade continues. “Look, my life is pathetic enough. I’m sitting in the middle of a bar, playing Words with Friends with my dad while my best friend salivates over guys playing pool. I try, for the first time in two months, to talk to a guy and he’s not even interested in my name. And you know what? Yesterday, I’d be a huge melting pool of lust with one look in your mouthwateringly gorgeous blue eyes—bluer than I’ve ever seen to tell you the truth—but today? Nope. All I see is Rugged Man. So please, take your ‘it’s not you’ and shove it up his ass.”
I huff and down the rest of my drink, slightly mortified that I just went off like that but patting myself on the back at the same time. Jace is staring at me, eyes wide for just a moment before he busts out laughing, shaking his head at first me and then someone behind us. Turning around, I see Rugged Man scowling at both of us before turning to talk to the other guy sitting next to him. After glaring at him, I turn back around to Jace, who’s still chuckling.
“One, I’m not going anywhere near his ass, so you can forget that. Two, he didn’t send me over here to say anything, and I’m not here to hit on you. I swear. I’m happily taken. Here’s the thing. He’s not exactly in the best place right now, but he really doesn’t mean to be an asshole. He just comes across that way.”
I sigh, realizing I’m not surprised this one’s in a relationship. She must be one lucky lady. “Why are you telling me this? He wasn’t even really a jerk. He just…gave me the brush-off. It’s no big deal. Really. It’s fine. I don’t need an explanation.” Shooting him a confident smile, I pray he’s done with this line of conversation. It’s mortifying enough that I look so pathetic sitting by myself that he had to approach me, and I don’t want him thinking I need him to apologize for his friend.
He nods and positions his crutches so that he can get up from the stool. “I believe you. I just wanted to make sure that you knew that he has issues right now and any other time I know he’d be dying to ask you out. Maybe we’ll see you around, Charlotte?”
As much as I’d love to get to know these guys, I’m silently hoping I never have to see them again and that this night will become a very distant memory. Instead, I grin at him. “Sure. I’m sure we’ll run into each other sometime around town. Y’all have a good night.”
He gives me one last look before crutching back to his table. I watch him expertly maneuver across the bar, and I can’t help my take one last glance at Rugged Man. His eyes are watching me, and a cocky grin spreads across his face as he catches me checking him out. Before I can do anything, Lucy finally remembers that I’m here and she stands in front of me, blocking my view. She has the two pool players with her and she introduces them to me as Ben and Michael. They’re both attractive and friendly as we move to a high-top table and make easy conversation.
It becomes pretty apparent that Lucy’s wanting us to pair up, and as nice as this guy is, I can’t stop sneaking peeks at the object of my night’s affections. As the next two hours pass, I can feel his eyes watching me, and I swear I catch a scowl on his face when Michael’s hand grazes the small of my back when we get up to leave.
Right before exiting the bar, I take one last look back. His dark eyes pierce mine, momentarily paralyzing me in my spot. The cocky grin is gone, and all I see is lust, anger, and something else. The combination confuses me. His eyes graze down my body one last time, and I’m mesmerized as my legs begin to gravitate towards him. Before I can make it two steps, Lucy grabs my arm and leads me out of the bar, my eyes not leaving his until the door closes in my face.
I WAKE up with a pounding headache, wishing I hadn’t had so much to drink the night before. I haven’t been able to drink in months, first from being deployed and then from the pain pills. That combined with the lack of appetite I’ve had lately, also because of the damn pills, makes for one fucking lightweight. Feeling like a teenager who got drunk for the first time, my mouth is dry as hell, and my stomach is rolling. I’m regretting the extra tequila shots I took after I blew that girl off.
Getting up out of the bed, I’m thankful that Cohen helped me put on a pair of basketball shorts last night before he headed to the guest room. His being gone is really going to suck ass. I’m probably going to end up smelling awful and looking like a bum. There’s no way I’m letting some strange guy help me get dressed.
As I brush my teeth, I can hear Cohen moving around the kitchen and I silently beg the gods of hangovers that he’s brewing coffee. I desperately need caffeine after a night of drinking and then tossing and turning with thoughts of the beautiful Charlotte, whose gorgeous whiskey colored eyes have been on my mind since we last locked gazes before her friend dragged her out of the bar with those two asshole guys.
I have no idea why I care, but every time the guy next to her touched her hand or grazed her back, my body tensed and I got irritated as hell. It’s completely irrational, especially since I made an ass of myself when she was only trying to introduce herself. I know I’m still reeling from seeing Megan, and honestly, I’m in no fucking state to g
et involved with anyone.
Right, because a chick introducing herself means she wants you. Whatever. I’m sure I’ll never see that girl again, even after Jace tried to do damage control—not that I needed or wanted him to. I’m not sure what my issue is, but there was something in the way she looked me over that I couldn’t stop thinking about. She was looking at me, the man, and I swear I felt a stirring in my dick when I caught her licking her lips. It was the first time in weeks that I hadn’t had to ignore the sympathetic, pitying looks, and for some reason it unnerved me, catching me entirely off guard. Deep down, a part of me feels like a dick for the brush-off, but I know it was for the best. Plus, she had Jace, Captain fucking America himself, to make her feel better.
Leaving the bathroom I make my way down the hall and find Jace lounging on the couch, watching Cohen playing Metal Gear Solid on my PS3. I get a head nod from both of them as I head to the kitchen, where I’m relieved to find a full coffee pot waiting for me. Grabbing a mug, I fill a carafe so I won’t have to get back up, because after a night out without my brace, I’m feeling sore as hell. Right now, I want nothing more than to sit in my recliner for the rest of the day without moving an inch.
When I’m about to settle into the recliner the doorbell rings. I glance at the clock on the wall and realize that my babysitter is here half an hour early. I’m grateful that Jace and Cohen are both still around. Who knows what kind of man is showing up to volunteer to help me? The doorbell rings again, and I’m already irritated with the impatience of this person. They both look at me questioningly, obviously not willing to stop their game to open the door. Setting down the coffee, I slowly walk towards the front door, and I hear a knock. “Hold the fuck on!” I yell, already not liking this Charlie guy.
I’m swearing as I open the door, stopping mid-sentence when my eyes meet the same big, beautiful brown ones I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. When she sees me, she inhales sharply and looks down at the piece of paper in her hand. How in the hell did she find out where I lived? Jace… It had to have been Jace.