Read Blissful Valentine: A Novella Online
Authors: Amy L. Gale
I take off my coat and slide into the green leather booth. He follows suit and grabs a menu from the table.
“What’s your poison?” He peruses the menu.
“Nothing sweet or cute, or called virgins.” I smirk.
He glides his finger down the menu. “They’ve got hellfire scorchers. Right up your alley.”
I kick him under the table and muffle a smile.
“What can I get you?” A dark haired girl with the body of a porn star, wearing a shirt two sizes too small, smiles. She stares at Dean tapping a pen against a notepad.
Um, hello, I’m right here. I toss my menu on the table. “We’ll have a large pizza pie and two large colas.”
Dean sets down the menu. “Sounds good.”
Her eyes shift from Dean’s fitted, gray, long-sleeved T-shirt to his deep blue eyes. “Coming right up.” She takes a step back and turns away.
I look toward her, then shift my focus to Dean. “Looks like you made a new friend.”
He sets his elbows on the table and leans forward. “I’ve got enough friends, no room for any more.”
I tip my chin. “Please, anyone at your frat house would make room for her.”
He shrugs
.
“Not interested.”
“In girls.” I fidget with my fingers.
“What?... No. I mean, yes. I’m interested in girls. Just not her.”
My god, the guys at the frat house would line up for her. Who knows? She might even be into that kind of kinky stuff. Maybe Dean is just being polite, which would definitely not be one of the rules of the Brotherhood. How did he end up in a frat house?
“So when did you pledge Beta Omega, anyway?”
The waitress comes back with our drinks, bending over the table way further than necessary to hand Dean his. She moves slowly back, flaunting her cleavage as she turns away. “The rest will be right out.”
Dean sips his drink. “Last semester.”
I take a slug of my soda. “Maybe you’re still transitioning into a frat boy.”
He rubs his chin. “Ah, close to a compliment. I actually pledged because I plan on working for CIVAT Inc. once I get my degree. Everyone on the board is a Beta Omega Alumni. It looks good on the resume.”
“Really? A whole company of fraternity brothers?” I lower my eyebrows. “Interesting, didn’t know you had an ulterior motive.”
He raises an eyebrow and leans forward. “There’s lots you don’t know about me, yet.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Yet?”
He leans back and sips his soda. “This isn’t the first physics test you’re going to ace. Your tutor rocks.” He flashes a sexy smile.
“Yeah, he’s okay.” My lips upturn into a smile.
“Anything else?” The waitress slides the tray of pizza and two paper plates onto the table, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Nope.” Dean passes me a paper plate.
“Just let me know.” She smiles, catching her bottom lip in her teeth and walks away, shaking her hips.
I roll my eyes. “Guess you’re used to this from playing baseball.”
He pulls a piece of pizza from the pie and slides it on my plate. “Used to what?”
I shrug. “Being the hero.”
“Super Dean at your service.” He grabs a slice of pizza and takes a bite.
I slap his arm playfully. It’s like hitting a brick wall, pure muscle. “You know what I mean.”
“I’ll try to control my harem of followers.” He snickers.
Who’s he kidding? I know exactly how it is. Football players at our high school were like golden gods. Everyone looked up to them, wanted to date them, wanted to be them. College sports just magnify that tenfold. I’ve been there, done that. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be and repeating history isn’t on my college agenda. I can’t seem to stay away from the jock frat boy. It’s like he’s the forbidden fruit I just can’t resist.
Thank god for blessing me with strong willpower.
I’ll need every bit of it to steer clear of Dean Parker.
“So what about you? What do you do for fun besides chase superhero frat boys?” He raises his eyebrows.
I bite into another slice of pizza. “Nothing exciting.”
He wrinkles his forehead. “Come on, everyone needs some fun.”
I sip my soda. “I used to be on my high school dance team, but that seems like eons ago.”
We finish the tray of pizza in Mach speed. Guess Dean fires up my appetite.
He wipes his mouth with a napkin and drops it on his plate. “You’re looking at the man voted best dancer at Greenfield High. Hand to god, it’s in the yearbook.” He slides out of the booth and puts on his coat. “Maybe I’ll show you some of my moves sometime.”
I scoot out of the booth and pull on my coat, zippering it to my neck. So he wants to show me his moves. Yeah, exactly what I’m afraid of.
Millions of stars twinkle sending silver specks of light along the dark night sky on the short walk back to my apartment. A coating of snow blankets the sidewalk and roadway, sparkling against the streetlights. Tomorrow it will be a tinged with dirt and caked on the side of the road, but at the moment it’s completely untouched, glowing in pristine splendor.
I slide my hands in my pockets, clenching my fingers into loose fists to conserve heat. The snow draped over the pine trees cover the benches of Lakeview Park. A gentle frigid breeze stings my cheeks. I turn toward Dean and gaze at his deep blue eyes, sparkling like silver starlight. My body instantly heats up.
He stops and meets my gaze, then bends down and grabs a mound of snow, packing into a tight ball. He takes a step back and winds his arm, throwing the snowball straight and fast. It smacks against the metal sign on the far end of the small pond near a cluster of benches, breaking off into a multitude of pieces.
He wipes his hands off on his pants. “Give it a try.”
I shake my head. “No way, I throw like a girl.”
His picks up a mound of snow and packs it together, forming a perfect sphere. He hands me the snowball and stands behind me, pressing his body against mine. My heartbeats thump against my chest, causing a surge of adrenaline to rush through my veins. I tremble, holding the snowball in my right hand. At least I can blame the cold for my shaky arm. He runs his hand down to my wrist and pulls it back, up toward my shoulder.
He rests his head on my shoulder and talks softly into my ear. “Pull your arm back to here and step forward at the same time you throw.
”
He moves to the side.
Goosebumps form on my neck from his warm breath gliding against my cool skin. My stomach flutters.
Here goes nothing.
I stare at the metal No Parking sign and pull my arm back, throwing the snowball as I step forward. Tiny fragments of snow fly through the air. A direct hit.
I clap my hands and bounce up and down on my toes. “Holy crap, I actually did it. I didn’t think I could hit the broad side of a barn.
”
Dean comes over and raises his hand to give me a high five. I lunge forward and pull him into a hug, before I realize what I’m doing. My chest tightens and heat creeps across my cheek.
He wraps his arms around my waist and presses his body against mine. I step back and ease away, dropping my arms to my sides. “We better head back, I’ve still got lots of physics studying to do if I plan on passing the semester.”
He rubs the back of his neck and nods.
I slide my frozen hands into my pockets and hold them in tight fists. Note to self:
when I think I’m finished embarrassing myself I’m usually wrong
.
The perfect untouched blanket of snow moves into an array of chaos as we turn the corner to my apartment. My heart beats faster with each step I take forward. This walk is taking forever. If I don’t get away from Dean soon, I may end up doing something else I shouldn’t. I mean, we’re just friends. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale as we approach my driveway.
I dig in my purse and pull out my keys. “Thanks for my victory celebration.”
He places his hand in the small of my back on our way toward my steps. “First of many.
”
His hand moves to my waist.
Summersaults take over my stomach. I step onto the first step. My boot slips along the rim of the concrete edge covered in a thin layer of ice and instantly it knocks me off balance. My hands flail through the air, desperately trying to grab onto anything.
Dean jumps into action, catching me before my head smacks against the hard sidewalk. I grab onto his sculpted bicep and pull myself to my feet.
Fire burns through my cheeks, which are no doubt fire-engine red. I drop my chin to my chest and hunch my shoulders. He lifts my chin and gazes into my eyes. My heart pounds against the walls of my chest. Electric shockwaves flows through my veins. He leans in closer. My lips part and lava flows through my body. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I knew you’d fall for me sooner or later.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek and takes a step back, turning and walking away.
I let out the breath I’d been holding and stare until he disappears around the corner. My eyes travel along the sidewalk, stopping at the point where our two sets of footprints in the snow turn into one. My heart sinks. He’s everything I vowed to stay away from, yet it kills me to let him go.
CHAPTER 5—GIRLS JUST WANT TO HAVE FUN
I stare at the double layer chocolate cake as Lexie pushes it across the table and sets it in front of our friend Olivia. My mouth waters. Great, more things I can’t resist. Looks like I’ll have to kick my willpower into overdrive.
“Happy Birthday, Olivia,” Lexie says, sticking a pink candle in the middle of the creamy chocolate. She unzips her purse and pulls out a Zippo lighter. Guess her theory of keeping ready in case of emergency does come in handy. She flicks her thumb and waves the flame in front of the wax wick. The candle blazes like an inferno.
“Last year as a teenager,” Olivia replies with a huge smile on her face, sliding her long dark brown hair over her shoulder. She leans forward, extinguishing the candle in one quick blow.
“Make that wish count.” Lexie winks and twirls her finger around her hair.
“Oh, I always make it count.” Olivia dips her finger in the chocolate and then sticks it in her mouth. “Mmm, better than sex.”
I huff and roll my eyes.
“Who pissed in her Cheerios?” Olivia turns toward Lexie and wrinkles her forehead.
“Yeah, what’s up with you tonight? That time of the month?” Lexie nods toward me and shovels a forkful of cake into her mouth.
“God, every time a girl isn’t frolicking around like a cheerleader she must be on the rag, right? You’re worse than the guys.” I cut myself a mammoth piece of cake and dig in.
“Ah, I get it. Your panties are still in a bunch from your non-date.” Lexie holds back a smile.
“Sorry to break it to you, but there were no panties involved in my non-date.” I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth.
Olivia and Lexie erupt into a mess of giggles.
“A panty-less non-date.” Lexie smirks.
I shovel more cake into my mouth and slug down my diet cola. Thank god panties weren’t involved in my non-date. It’s been two days and no word from Dean. Guess I misread the signals, or he finally read mine loud and clear. Perfect example of why I need to stay away from all frat boys, even if they do seem different. Nope, same old scene; one minute you’re the most interesting person in the world and the next it’s like they don’t even know you. Maybe now my body will listen to my brain.
I drop the menu on the table. “Let’s order a bunch of appetizers and share them. Best of both worlds.”
“Excellent idea.” Lexie heads up to the bar and chats with our waitress, who’s doing more flirting than working.
“Dean really is a great guy. I know it’s none of my business but you know my boyfriend Trevor? Well he’s in Beta Omega and he said Dean mentioned your non-date like, four times the other day.” Olivia finishes the last forkful of cake. “Must be a record for a guy to talk about a girl that much to his brothers.”
An involuntary smile creeps across my face. “He’s a good friend.”
She tilts her head. “You sure that’s all he is?”
I throw my hands in the air. “Yes, so everyone can stop assuming it’s more. We’re friends, that’s it, end of story.”
Lexie makes her way back to our table and slides into the chair. “What did I miss?”
“Just Brooke’s bitch hiccup.” Olivia snickers.
A low growl escapes my throat. How ridiculous! I wouldn’t be this bent out of shape if I didn’t hear from any of my other friends in a few days. I’ve got to get it together. Plus, I’m ruining Olivia’s birthday celebration. I’m the one who’s a horrible friend.
“Okay, bitch episode is over. Now on to bigger and better things.” I sip my soda. “What did Trevor get you for your birthday?”
Olivia shrugs. “Don’t know yet.” She gestures toward the door. “Looks like he just walked in…with your friend.”
I turn toward the door and fidget with my fingers. Dean pulls off his hat and runs his hand through his hair, styling it in a perfect, sexy mess. My pulse rate doubles. He shrugs off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack near the door. I stare, following the outline of his sculpted pecs flaunted by the thin material of his dark green Beta Omega T-shirt in just the right way, then move to his chiseled biceps which dance every time he moves. I nibble on my fingernails and lean back in my chair.
“Enjoy,” the waitress says, breaking my trance. She sets a menagerie of plates on the table. I reach for a fry, my fingers trembling.
Olivia waves her hands in the air as if she’s landing a plane. “Over here guys.”
Great. I turn back toward the door and glance at Trevor, Tom, and Dean, making their way to our table. Sad excuse for a triple date on girl’s night.
Olivia jumps out of her chair as Trevor approaches. He pulls her into a bear hug, his multitude of colorful tattoos peeking out from under his short-sleeved T-shirt.
“Happy Birthday, babe.” Trevor drops his hands from Olivia’s waist and hands her a silver box.
Olivia bounces on the balls of her feet. She slowly opens it, pulling out a gold chain with a heart attached. “Ooh, I love it! Thank you.” She slams her lips against his.
“Get a room,” someone from across the bar yells.
Trevor pulls away and nods. “Sounds like a plan. See you guys later.” He turns toward Olivia. “The celebrating is just about to begin.” He pulls her coat from the chair and holds it up.
She slips her arms inside and high tails it toward the door, turning back toward us before she leaves. “Thanks guys. I had a blast. Talk to you later.” She blows us a kiss and walks out the door, almost skipping.
Leaving just the four of us—how convenient. Tom flops into Olivia’s recently abandoned chair and crosses his arms over his chest, accentuating his muscles. Lexie rests her head on her chin and leans closer to him.
Amazing, how things change in an instant. And what’s with the short sleeve shirts anyway? It is winter.
Dean pulls up a chair and sits next to me. “Nice, all my favorites.” He winks at me and grabs a mozzarella stick, shoving it in his mouth
.
“How’s the physics studying going?”
I squirm in my seat and stab a fried mushroom with my fork. “It’s going.” I breathe slowly, trying to control the thumping of my heart. Dammit, why does he have this effect on me? “What’s with the summer attire?” I turn toward him and peruse the curves of his bicep, moving up to his face. My stomach flutters.
“Summer spirit week.” He drags a french fry through a mound of ketchup and devours it. “Don’t be surprised if you see a Beta Omega brother in a speedo.”
Gross. I grimace. Hate to break it to him but no one looks good in a speedo. I mean, most women would rather see a gorgeous guy in a perfectly tailored suit than a thin layer of spandex covering his junk.
Tom turns toward Lexie. “There’s an eighties band tonight. Ready to show me your moves?”
Her face turns a bright shade of crimson and she twists hair around her finger. “I’m game.”
I tap my fingers against my glass of diet cola. “You’ll have to watch from over there because tonight it’s girl’s night.
”
I point across the room to the far corner near the bar.
Lexie shoots me a sinister gaze as if Satan himself was sitting right in front of her.
“Dammit. I could’ve used my wingman tonight.” Dean finishes the last mozzarella stick. “My mind hasn’t recouped from being stuck in a cabin for two days with no cell service. Ice fishing blows.”
That’s why I hadn’t heard from him. Lightness fills my chest. “My wingman days are over, especially on girl’s night out. Unless you want to discuss hair and nail tips.”
Dean runs his hand through his hair. “I prefer the natural look.”
I burst out laughing. Amazing…one minute I want him to disappear from the earth and the next I’m giggling like a flirty cheerleader.
Dean stands up from his chair and nods toward the pool table. “Ten bucks I kick your ass.”
Tom’s scrapes his chair along the wooden floor and stands up. “You’re on.” He gives Lexie a peck on the cheek and walks toward the pool table with Dean.
Lexie lowers her eyebrows and tilts her head. “Seriously. You just banished the guys from our table.”
I dab my finger into some chocolate frosting and quickly suck it off. “Yep. It’s girl’s night, so you’re stuck with me.”
Lexie leans back in her chair and twirls her finger around her hair. “Listen, I get your whole anti-jock, anti-frat boy rule, but look at you. You’re making yourself miserable. You like him. Go for it. What’s the harm in giving it a try?”
“What’s the harm in sticking your head in an alligator’s mouth?
”
There’s a damn good chance you’re going to get crushed. “It’ll never work. I’m not into the whole fraternity scene and besides I want a man not a party boy.”
“Sometimes what you want is the opposite of what you need.” She flashes a quick smile.
I exhale loudly and shove my cup toward the middle of the table. “Enough with the deep talk tonight is all about fun.” I look toward the stage. “Band’s almost ready, get your dancing shoes on.”
Now if I could just stop her words from replaying over and over in my mind my life would be less complicated.
The drums vibrate through my chest and the screech of the guitar resonates through the crowd. Lexie and I push our way to the stage, turning sideways and elbowing through a plethora of people. I cough my way through a cloud of fruity perfume. It’s like I’m at a sold out show, this place is so packed.
I glance around the jam-packed room. Dean leans against the back wall holding a pool cue in his hand. He runs his hand through his hair, and then leans forward aiming toward the cue ball. His lips upturn in a small smile as we make eye contact. Chills sweep through my body even though it’s got to be at least eighty degrees in here. Is he deliberately tormenting me? Yeah, right. I’m pretty much doing that to myself.
The familiar tune of
Love is a Battlefield
blares through the speakers. Lexie and I instantly sway as if we’re part of a spontaneous choreographed dance. I inadvertently break into the routine my dance team back in high school made to this song, which will never leave my brain. I close my eyes and hit every move like my body was programmed to do so. I slowly gaze at the crowd. Oh god, they had merged into a large circle with me in the center. Heat spreads across my face and my chin trembles. The crowd claps until the music stops. I cover my face with my hands and slowly drop them to my sides, walking backward until I’m pinned against the stage.
“We are
Totally Eighties
and we’ll be right back after a quick break,” the singer announces.
“Aren’t you used to being in the spotlight from all those years of dance team?” Lexie leans against the stage next to me.
I nod. “I wasn’t expecting to put on a show tonight.”
“I know someone who enjoyed that show.” She nudges my elbow.
I roll my eyes and fan my face with my hand. “I need a drink.”
We turn sideways and slide through the crowd, getting pushed and elbowed on the way. A small area opens near the bar. A multitude of people line up, waiting for drinks.
“We’ll never get a drink. The line’s is at least three people deep.” Lexie tries to squirm her way to the bar.
“I got this.” After living in Regal Hall last semester with a room that wasn’t much bigger than my closet at home, I can fit into more places than an octopus.
I slither around a scantily clad brunette and peek my head between the shoulders of two blondes wearing four-inch heels. Ah, it’s not that bad. I move sideways, parallel to the bar and spot a guy in a baseball cap, taking his drink and moving to his table. Time to strike while the iron is hot. I lunge forward, grazing two people on my way and press my hands against the cool, hard, wooden bar.
A man next to me slurs his speech as he tries to order another drink. Jeez, he has one in his hand and he’s hogging the bartender. Unbelievable. I pull a five-dollar bill from my pocket and place it on the bar. The bartender spots me, and comes to my aid.
“Wait your turn,” the man slurs, spilling his beer all over my white shirt. His nostrils flare and his eyes protrude.
Crap. I find the place at the bar containing the mean drunk. “Sorry.” I shrug.
“That’s not good enough!” he screams and points his finger in my face.
I hold up my hands. “I can buy you another drink.”