Girls—tall gorgeous ones with long, fluffy
hair—hovered at the fringes of his group. Their slinky dresses were
black or navy and their lips red and shiny, making me feel out of
place in my golden yellow, hot pink lips, and fair, creamy skin.
One of them, tanned and dark haired, said something, and he shouted
with laughter. Hearing him laugh was beautiful, but seeing someone
like her hold his attention brought me back to reality. I dismissed
him and let my eyes move on.
Lucy arrived at the table with a tray of eight
shots and two wine glasses. Obviously her aim of the evening was
not to smooth my nervous edges but lay them out flat.
“Thank God,” I muttered and reached for the
shot, knowing I had the whole day off to pay for it. I tossed the
vodka back and almost choked on the burn.
“See anything interesting while I was at the
bar?” Lucy asked as she sat down in the booth opposite me, waiting
for me to catch my breath.
I fixed my eyes on her. If she knew I’d been
eyeing that hot guy she’d be all over it like tinsel on
Christmas.
She downed her own shot and hissed.
“Nope,” I replied.
My traitorous eyes wandered sideways, and Lucy
followed my line of sight, her eyes widening with glee. “Are you
shittin’ me, Quinn? That guy is holy fuck me gorgeous.” Her eyes
narrowed on the hovering fangirls and she pursed her lips. “Could
be a player.”
I raised my brows at her and pointed my finger.
“Exactly.”
I picked up another shot and brought it to my
lips.
“But that’s good,” she said, tossing back her
long sheet of hair. “That’s what you need. You’re in a man drought
of epic proportions. You need someone like him to clear the
cobwebs.”
I choked again on my second shot and sputtered.
“Lucy! I’m not a…a floozy!”
Lucy snorted with laughter and grabbed her
phone. “Who says floozy? I’ve gotta text that one to Rick.” Her
fingers started stabbing letters as she texted her husband,
chuckling all the while. “Next thing you’ll be calling yourself a
lady of the night because you had sex once in all of two
years.”
“I haven’t had sex.”
“That’s why we’re here,” she muttered as she hit
send and tossed her phone back on the table.
“I thought we were here to have a drink and then
go home.”
She ignored me and picked up another shot,
drinking it down as her phone buzzed. She read the message and her
smile was smug. “Rick’s going to come down for a drink. Then he can
keep me company while you make your big move.”
I bit my lip to stop the bark of hysterical
laughter threatening to burst out at her statement. If any moves
were going to be made, it would involve me running for the
door.
“I don’t belong with a man like that, and I
don’t belong in a place like this, Lucy.”
We both looked his way. He was wearing dark blue
jeans and a stretchy T-shirt that emphasised his muscled chest. It
was white and had a band’s name on the front with a picture, but
what the thin, tight material revealed had me straining my eyes. It
looked like a tiny little bar pierced his right nipple. Complete
and utter lust punched me in the gut, and Lucy’s eyes widened when
I let out a breathless squeak. Until I’d met Ethan, hot bad boys
had always been my thing, and this one appeared to lead the
pack.
She flared her nostrils. “Rubbish. Let’s not
start this bullshit again, Quinn. You’re not worthless. You’re
beautiful, inside and out.”
“Not tonight.” Nerves curdled my stomach into a
tight knot, and I fought past the usual wave of self-loathing. For
once, I was trying not to let it beat me down.
She pursed her lips. “Okay. Well let me tell you
something. Maybe you aren’t a tall sex goddess. So what? You have
the market cornered on sweet and adorable. People pay big dollars
for a hair colour like yours. Then there’s your huge, Bambi eyes,
and bitch, you have the cutest smattering of freckles across your
nose. You’ll always have that youthful look about you no matter how
old you are, and compared to all those hos at the bar…” she waved
her shot glass around and then looked at it as though she wondered
how it got there “…they look fake in comparison, with their hair
extensions and orange tans. I swear to God I was watching one of
them laughing just before, and her face did not move. I was fucking
scared. Scared,” she repeated, jabbing her shot glass at me with
emphasis before sucking it back.
I chuckled and resisted the urge to kick off my
heels, tuck my legs underneath me, and get cosy. “Thanks, Luce, but
you don’t need to butter me up because it won’t work. I’m staying
right in this booth.”
Two large hands slapped down on the table. I
followed them up and into Sean’s dark brown eyes. “Having a good
night?” He smiled at the both of us, but his question was directed
at me. It was probably obvious I was socially inept, so perhaps he
felt sorry for me.
Not wanting to encourage any pity, I returned
the smile. “If I wasn’t, the tray of shots here will make sure I
am.”
I didn’t need to see Lucy’s grin at my flirty
comeback. I could feel it. I bit down on my lip so I wouldn’t laugh
at her.
Sean’s eyes dropped to my mouth for an
uncomfortable moment before he nodded at the door. “Gotta get back
out.” He slid a small slip of paper across the table towards me
with his large hand. “If you wanna change that good night to a
great night…” he winked “…then you have my number.”
“Oh my God,” Lucy hissed at me as he walked
away. “Sean is so into you.”
The thought had me a little giddy, but it might
also have had something to do with the shots. “He’s hot, but how
many girls does he proposition on the job? I’d just be one in a
long line, but...” I grinned as my eyes fell on his retreating back
“...I’m sure it’s a line most girls would be happy to queue
in.”
Lucy giggled. Lucy hardly ever giggled. Her
laugh was more the rich, throaty kind, so I knew her shots were
kicking in. “Well he obviously wants you at the front of it. It’s
that sexy mouth of yours, Quinn. A man takes one look at it and
instantly imagines how it would look wrapped around his—”
“Lucy!” I squealed.
“Okay, so save Sean for another night. Make it a
buffet. Start with the hot player at the bar.”
I sighed and my eyes sought him out. His friends
were still there, but he wasn’t. Ever since my eyes had found him,
my spine had tingled with awareness. Now it felt like the bottom
had dropped out of my stomach.
I turned back to Lucy, knowing my disappointment
was obvious. “He’s gone.”
“Well here...” Lucy grabbed at the bit of paper
Sean had left behind and tucked it in my clutch “...there’s always
Sean, and he’s better than a consolation prize. I’ve seen him
without a shirt, and his muscles rival Rick’s.”
This was true. Rick was the sort of guy you
looked at and then expected his shirt to tear apart as he
transformed into The Hulk. They were married straight out of school
and had been together almost eight years now. I’d met the pair of
them when I moved into the townhouse next door four years ago and
they’d both been my best friends, my only friends, ever since.
“Speaking of Rick, if he’s coming down for a
drink, will he still be able to give us a ride home?”
“Honey, you are getting a ride home with someone
else.” She grinned wickedly, her behaviour getting less refined as
the night went on. I could only imagine it was tame in comparison
to what went down on an ordinary night at Screamers, the nightclub
where she worked. The place was at the Cross in Sydney’s red-light
district and stripping and cage dancing featured heavily. That was
how Lucy got her start, dancing in a cage and working her way up
the chain to bar manager.
“Oh, he’s back,” Lucy said and enthusiasm had
her clutching my arm.
My eyes whipped to the bar, and sure enough
there he was talking again with his friends. His eyes lifted,
flashing with laughter and scanning the room. When he caught me
staring, my pulse raced like I was lined up in pole position at the
Grand Prix. His gaze wandered over me curiously, and I flushed with
embarrassment, lifting a hand to hide my face. The sudden movement
sent my wine glass flying across the table and sprayed Lucy.
Thankfully she was acquainted with my spatial awareness affliction
and used to the drama, so she didn’t bat an eyelid. My eyes whipped
back to the man at the bar to see if he’d caught the embarrassing
display. The amusement in his green eyes and the way he saluted me
with his beer told me he had. I cringed as I wiped up the mess with
napkins, determined never to show my face at the bar again. Not
that that would be a problem.
“Well get over there before he disappears again,
Quinn.”
“I…what?”
“You heard me.” She flung a napkin at me. “I’ll
give you fifty bucks if you go stand by the bar next to him and
order a drink.”
“What are you, like a reverse pimp? I just
embarrassed the complete shit out of myself. I’m not standing by
the bar. I’m leaving.”
Her eyes flattened menacingly. “Then what? I get
to drag you out again in another two years, making your drought
double to four years? Stop running away.”
“Thanks for the math lesson, Lucy.”
“I won’t let up about this so you may as well
just—”
“Okay!” I held up a hand. “I’ll do it.
Just…don’t watch me like it’s some big deal. I’m going to the bar,
buying a drink, and coming back. Nothing more.”
She let out a deep, gratifying sigh and slid
fifty dollars across the table. “The guy’s name at the bar is
Vince, okay? I know him so tell him I sent you.”
“Keep your money,” I hissed. Then I gave my
dress a once over and cleared my throat. “Do I look okay?”
Her eyes softened sadly at my question. “You
look perfect.”
I reached the bar and tried to catch the
barman’s eye.
“Vince,” came a voice from behind me. It wasn’t
a yell but somehow the deep rumble carried along the bar, and Vince
looked up. My chest thumped with nerves, and I grabbed the bar with
my fingertips. “Four beers, mate.”
Did he just cut in?
Vince nodded and winked in the direction over my
shoulder telling me that he had, in actual fact, just cut in. My
eyes narrowed and I spun around, having to tilt my head, even in my
skyscrapers, to meet his eyes. Up close their colour was a bright,
leafy green with a starburst of topaz reflecting the light. He had
a straight nose and a strong jaw covered by stubble, but long,
golden lashes and gorgeous, full lips changed his features from
hard to almost sensual.
Realising I was standing there absorbed in his
lips, I dragged my eyes back to his and found him staring at me
intently. I cleared my throat, feeling awkward and unsure of what
to say.
Then he opened his mouth to speak.
To me.
Oh God, he was going to speak to me.
Please
don’t. Please don’t. I’ll have to reply. I can’t do this.
My
breathing escalated into silent little pants.
“You’re not gonna toss your next drink at me,
are you?”
My mouth fell open.
Say something, Quinn,
I ordered myself
firmly.
“My drink?”
His eyes crinkled slightly when he smiled and
leaned towards me, enough that I could feel the heat of his body.
“Yeah, your drink.”
“Oh…” I paused. “I don’t have one.”
He nodded at the bar, so I turned and saw a
glass of wine sitting there right in front of me.
I shook my head. “I didn’t order that. It must
belong to someone else. Excuse me,” I muttered and did my best to
get Vince’s attention.
I couldn’t do this. Being someone that smiled
and flirted and made instant friends didn’t come easily anymore.
Watching everyone else around me do it so naturally just reminded
me how little I belonged.
I turned the other way to check on Lucy. Rick
had arrived and now they were both sitting in our booth eyeballing
me.
What?
I shrugged at the both of them.
Lucy’s expectant expression evolved into a wide
grin when a hand touched the small of my back. Tingles of warmth
spread through my body at the unfamiliar touch. Lips brushed
against my ear, and I almost moaned. “I ordered it. For you.”
Breathless, I asked, “You did?”
“Uh huh,” came the soft rumble of reply, and I
swallowed. “When I saw you throw your drink at your friend, I
thought you could do with another.”
I spun back around. The man was completely in my
space. Heat radiated from him and sucked every chill from my body.
“I didn’t throw it.”
“Sure you didn’t,” he said. Then he smiled, slow
and lazy, and I wanted to taste it on my lips. “You know, you could
just say thank you.”
“What?” I muttered.
He leaned in towards me, and I held my breath.
Then he stretched his arm out and picked up three beers, called
over my shoulder, “Thanks Vince,” twisted to hand them to his
friends behind him, and returned to me.
“Now,” he murmured. “Where were we? Oh that’s
right. I believe you were thanking me.”
“Umm…” He was watching me expectantly. “Thank
you,” I answered with a flustered smile.
He shook his head and the light spun in his
silky hair. “Pity.”
My smile dropped at his tone. “What?”
“I was hoping I’d get more than words.”
More than words? My eyes dropped to his lips.
“What were you hoping for?”
With his beer in one hand, he used the other to
reach out and grip my hip lightly as he leaned in and said,
“You.”
I pulled back and looked at him. The man was a
player. That was obvious, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The
way he was looking at me made me
want
to be the one he was
hoping for.
Is it him you want, Quinn, or just the touch
of another man after going without for so long?