Wyatt (18 page)

There’s a happy student thrill in the air. If you’re looking for a place to get lost, this might just be it. I watch the bartender help some patrons, his hands working fast to get the glasses filled.

A door behind the counter opens, and I watch as another bartender place some clean glasses behind the counter before he looks up. He smiles at me and I have to admit, he’s not too bad looking – that’s if I’m into the kind that has more piercings than I do.

“What can I get y’all?” he asks, sending my stomach off on a mad dash around the pub. I’m a sucker for American accents and oh my, as long as he keeps talking I won’t need a flag. Forget about Queen and Country, I might just be able to do this thing.

“Uhm…” Hell, I don’t know. I give him an awkward smile. “Anything you can suggest?”

“Start her off on tequila.” Some smart-arse goes off next to me.

I scowl up at fellow next to me and then wish I hadn’t even given him the time of day. Yu-uck, not even for Queen or Country. I keep my hands on my lap, making sure I don’t touch the bloke by accident.

The bartender glares darkly at the bloke, and then gets busy. I watch him prepare the drink. What he’s doing looks rather interesting. Seconds later, he places a tall glass with some mixture of crushed ice and red fluid in front of me.

“Strawberry Daiquiri,” he says, winking at me. I reward him with a smile and tip.

I hope the drink will soothe my nerves real quick. It’s sweet and actually refreshing, not at all what I expected alcohol would taste like.

American men. I haven’t even dated a British bloke, how am I going to handle an American one? I’ve heard they don’t take nonsense, not exactly the Mr. Darcy types. If they see something they like they go for it, and I’m hoping that will work in my favor tonight. I hope if I throw the offer out there, the bloke will just take it and not ask me any questions.

Halfway through the dink, which is really only seconds later, a loud roar erupts from the entrance of the pub, and just like all the patrons, my curiosity gets the best of me. I glance back.

It must be the ‘in’ crowd that has just entered. Most of the girls are beaming and I think they’re just about ready to drop their knickers all over the place, as the hot group of men saunters in. There’s a whole lot of hugging going on. There’s only one girl with the testosterone brigade, and she’s built like a brick shit-house. And she definitely knows it. I can’t tear my eyes away from her. I’ve never seen a girl move with so much confidence before. Her black hair shimmers in the dim light, and the sparkly top and short skirt don’t cover much. But then, if I had her legs I’d be walking on my hands to show them off.

The men are built, I mean muscles ripple and even the stale air gives way to their presence. Definitely a crowd that knows they have the ‘IT’ factor, especially the girl and the bloke walking next to her. They just give off a vibe that says, ‘screw with us and you’re shit-paste.’

And I’m right, because the second her eyes meet mine the jittery feeling increases, and a cold shiver runs down my spine, making my stomach go all knotty. Her eyes are cold, merciless – like those of a shark – making sure this small British fish knows she should simply head right back to her faraway pond. Then she smiles, and no matter how I try to force my lips to curve up, I know it must look pretty grim.

I take big gulps of the drink. I shouldn’t have stared. The last thing I need is some crazed American Amazon woman getting – AHH! Brain freeze! Bloody hell. I slam my hand to my forehead, trying to rub the freeze away.

“Hey, sweet thing.” The husky drawl crawls down my spine.

Please, please, please let it not be her, but even as I send up my quick silent prayer, I know it’s going to go unanswered. My first night out and the first person to take an interest in me would be the Amazon woman. Just my bloody luck.

I take a deep breath before I look over my shoulder. Bugger! She’s got eyes straight from King Neptune’s deepest oceans.

“Ah …Hi.” I’m willing her to go away, but she doesn’t.

She squeezes in next to me, way too close, and I’m starting to wonder if I read her wrong. Is she lesbian? Did I give her the impression that I am? Just so not my thing and I don’t think it’s what Chloe had in mind for me.

“Rob, the usual, and one extra for our new friend here,” she practically purrs at the bartender before turning her sapphire eyes back on me. “Come on. A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be sitting here between the uglies. We’ll take care of you.”

She’s not asking. She’s demanding I join them, and I can’t begin to imagine why. If I looked like Chloe yes, I would understand. Chloe has brown curls I’d kill for and brown eyes to match them, and a body that would fit in with this group. Me? With my blond hair, green eyes and pale skin I look anemic, because I hardly ever got to leave the house.

For a split second I think about making a run for the exit, I really don’t want to be bullied tonight, and that can be the only reason she would take an interest in me. An easy target to get a few laughs from.

I look back at her, and that’s when I see him over her shoulder. I didn’t see him at first, but he’s all I see now. Now he, Chloe would approve of.

I’ve read books. I’ve watched movies. I mean I’ve gone through them like some people might go through toilet paper. But none of the characters and actors compare to the bloke I’m gawking at. He’s not built as stockily as the others, but the shirt sits tight enough for me to see there’s plenty of hard muscle hidden beneath it. His brown hair isn’t shaggy, but short and neatly kept. And his face is hard. Okay, maybe not hard. Serious? Or maybe it’s the penetrating look? I can’t put my finger on it.

What am I saying? I do want to put my finger on it – on his whole face, just to see if the tingling sensation I’m feeling can possibly get any more intense. That’s saying a lot coming from me, seeing as I don’t do the touching thing, at all. I like my personal space, a lot. I think the only reason I’m such good friends with Chloe is because it’s over a phone, and she can’t touch me. I never asked to be the way I am, it’s all because of the way my mum treated me. I learned from an early age that touching hurts, it disgusts me. People telling you they love you is just bullshit. My past made me who I am today, a broken soul.

Oh, tonight is going to be a problem. I look at the bloke again. Would I be able to let him touch me? I don’t feel the familiar wave of disgust well up in my stomach, and the words slip out. “Why not?”

I follow her, all because of him and the distracting tingling feeling growing in the region of my stomach. (Which is so much better than the nervous one I’ve been having up until now.)

“Look what I found all alone over there by Rob,” the girl drawls when we get to her group of mates.

They have a booth and table next to each other in the back corner, tucked away from the others.

“What’s your name, prettiness?” She throws her arm around me and I cringe. Oh hell, I hope she’s not the ‘let’s all be a groupie’ kind of person. I’ve read about those in some of my books. Reading it is one thing, doing it is completely another thing I’m not so interested in.

“Emma.” It takes everything I have not to look at him, at least not until I’m introduced. Then I’ll eye-stalk him a bit.

“Well, Emma,” she says my name as if she’s tasting it. “This is Colton. Mine.” I knew that from when they walked in together.

Colton has shaggy, light brown hair and sharp brown eyes. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it makes him look downright scary. I’ll make sure I stay away from him. The girl keeps going.

“Paul, Harper, Aiden,” My eyes stop on Aiden and I eye-stalk. Even his name … bugger, I’m going to drool just saying it. He finally looks at me and the pub takes a spin. Crikey! Does alcohol work that fast?

I’ve never seen gray eyes like his before, it looks like there’s a storm brewing in them. His eyes sweep over me and suddenly I wish I’d dressed better. I feel like the dullest girl here.

“And Joe, and Dave.” She finishes. I don’t bother look at them.

Aiden’s mouth curves at the corner, just slightly, but enough for me to notice – because I’m still eye-stalking. The tingles are back in full force, making it feel as if a flock of eagles has taken flight in my stomach. The slight smile makes him look utterly dishy.

I have to stop staring. Stop gawking, Emma, now! 

I manage to tear my eyes away from his and look to her. She’s waiting for something, and then I realize she hasn’t introduced herself.

“Oh … and you are?” I ask so she will feel important. I’m very good at making people feel important. I’ve done it all my life. My mum is a control freak, and that is putting it mildly. She has this way of taking over your life and living it for you. It’s her way or the highway.

“Katia,” she says, a slow smile spreading over her perfect face. “Slide in,” she orders.

I hesitate and dare another glance in Aiden’s direction. He catches me glancing at him and a tidal wave of heat spreads through my body, rushing in the direction of my cheeks. Flustered, I move in. Katia comes in behind me, and it’s only then I realize I’m going to be pinned in by them. Oh Shit! I’ve allowed myself to be cornered. Now is not the time to lose control of the situation. I glance under the table, looking for a way to get out if the need arises.

“Or you can just run over it,” a deep voice says close to my ear.

I glance up, and the pub takes on that spinning thing it was doing a minute ago. His eyes are even grayer up close, forget the storm brewing thing I mentioned earlier. They’re almost like a silver moon, spotlighting everything mystical that comes out at night. I’m gawking again. It feels as if Aiden’s eyes are penetrating right through me, digging too deep, trying to find the few secrets I’d like to keep hidden.

I square my shoulders and lift my chin, so I’ll look braver than I feel. I don’t want these people to see how nervous I am. “Why would I run over it?” I feign ignorance.

“The floor is disgustingly dirty. I wouldn’t want you crawlin’ on it just to get away from us. You should rather run over the table if you need to get away.”

I can’t help but smile. It’s a miracle I’m not grinning like a daft nut. So much for acting brave. “You picked up on that?”

“Some here might bite,” he says, his eyes sweep over his mates before they settle back on me, “but I don’t.”

He tilts his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifts. Ahh, and my hormones start to play table tennis with my ovaries. I’m way too aware of everything around me, and we’re surrounded by other people. I need to get sloshed. I won’t be able to kiss this bloke, never mind going for a quick romp while I’m still sober.

I let my eyes take in the attractive man sitting next to me. Yeah, out of all the ones here, if I’m going to shag one, I’d like it to be this one. He doesn’t make my skin crawl, and that should be declared as one of the wonders of the world.

Alright, hormones in high gear, brain shut off and silent. I’m still staring, no, it’s definitely gawking. I finally manage to force my eyes to the bar but they have a one-track mind, because they pop right back to him.

He smiles and my ovaries are suddenly in the Wimbledon final.

~*~

Chapter Two

Aiden~

She stands out like a sore thumb. Don’t go getting me wrong. I see why Katia zeroed in on her. She’s pretty and all, but she doesn’t belong here. Every other girl is smothered in make-up, some sinus-killing perfume, too tight underwear and too little of everything else.

Then, there’s her. Blonde, big eyes, squashed between guys who looked like they were ready to pounce on her at any given moment. She looks like she belongs at home, studying, safely away from all of this – and that’s why Katia went for her. Katia loves the innocent type ones. She feeds off of them.

Only, Emma doesn’t look like your typical blonde. The second she sat down she was looking for a way out, and I had to bite down not to smile. She’s onto Katia’s tricks, not flattered like the others.

She looks flustered and I smile, trying to put her at her ease. Her cheeks flush a soft pink, and that tells me just how right I am about her being the innocent type. I’d love to know what she’s doing here, though.

“What brings you to a place like this, Emma?”

She leans in. I’d like to think it’s to get away from Katia and closer to me, but the music has been turned up. It’s only so I’ll hear her. I haven’t dated in a while; I mean a long while. Saying that I’ve been too busy will only be fooling myself. The thing with Laurie hit hard, and it’s been Zac and me ever since. 

The second she gets close, I get a dose of her faint scent. Something flowery. I should leave. I’m working. I don’t have time for this.

She glances up at me, and the lecture I was about to give myself takes a hike. Okay, maybe a little flirting, a little fun. Make Zac proud, he’s been on my case about dating. There’s no harm in flirting.

“Experiences. I promised myself new experiences,” she answers, way too honestly. Any guy in here will take advantage of that.

“Is that so?” I hear the suggestive tone in my voice. Ah, just damn, just all kinds of dammits. Get up and leave, Aiden! Now. No flirting. No fun. Just leave.

“Aiden, do share her with us,” Katia purrs behind Emma.

“I can’t help she likes good company,” I say, adding a smile to take the sting out of my words.

I know some of them have been frowning on the lack of women at my side. For some reason it’s important to them to show what effect they have with the female population of Chapel Hill. I don’t want to bring someone into this group. Not while I’m working. But then, I didn’t bring Emma in, Katia did.

I place my arm on the seat behind Emma. Whether it’s the protective streak in me that’s making me reach out to her, or the fact that she’s different from what I’m used to seeing around here, I couldn’t tell you at this point.

I need to get my mind back on track. “You should be happy, Katia.” I wait for her to take the bait, but instead, Colton does.

“Why’s that, bud?” He leans forward, his eyes moving slowly from Emma to me.

“I finally have a woman sittin’ at my side.” I lean closer to Emma and I’m surprised when she doesn’t make a run for the exit. She’s letting me come onto her, and it makes my blood pump that one beat faster through my body.

The drinks come and I pull back. Never mind Emma, I should make a run for it, just like I told her to do, but instead I reach for two shots. I hand her a shot of tequila and I see the question in her eyes. Whether it’s about the comments or the drink, I don’t know. She has the most expressive face I’ve ever seen. People will take advantage of that, too, and my mama taught me better.

“So, is everythin’ organized for tomorrow night, Katia?” I put on my poker face. I have to remember I’m working. I have to pretend to be a student right now. I have to act like one of them. It’s imperative to act like one of them.

“Yes, we have six new guys lined up. We’ll see if they’re stupid enough to show. Maybe we’ll find some new talent. We found you a few months back,” she says all possessively. Her eyes roam hungrily over Emma. I don’t like it one bit.

Emma takes hold of the drink and throws her head back, gulping the shot down. She grabs at her throat and gasps for air. Yeah, she’s clearly not used to drinking. 

“Tequila,” I offer the name of the drink she just downed so desperately. “It comes with salt and lime.” I hand her a slice of lime so she can at least get rid of the after-taste.

Our fingers touch lightly as she takes the slice, and her eyes jump back to mine. I’m sure she felt the spark. Her eyes are huge as she looks from the slice to me, and my blood rushes another beat faster – she has no idea what to do. Just how innocent is this girl?

I lean in, placing my arm behind her again. “You need to suck it,” I say, and as soon as I’ve said the words, I realize just how bad they sound.

With flaming cheeks she nods. “Uh-huh.” She brings the slice to her mouth and I freeze. Pulling back is no longer an option as I watch her lips part and a perfect line of white teeth bite into the soft flesh of the lime. Breathe, I remind myself to breathe, because damn, that’s hot.

I zoom in on Katia’s finger as she reaches to wipe a lone tear from the corner of Emma’s eye. Emma flinches back slightly, and it puts her face inches from mine, her arm brushing against my chest. I have to force myself to sit still. I can’t make a move, yet. I have to wait for this thing to play out, as much as I hate it. If Emma makes a move I can do something, but I can’t interfere with Katia. I’ll blow my cover.

“Not used to drinking are you, princess.” Katia leans in to Emma, and I know for a fact as her eyes focus on Emma, she’s going to try something. Emma will either freak out and run, or play into Katia’s hands. For some reason I don’t want to see either of the two happen.

My heart starts to beat faster and I swear I’m going stop breathing any second. But then Emma surprises the hell out me as she turns right into me. Her hand clasps my thigh, her fingers digging into the muscle. The blood rushing through my body is about all the encouragement I need. She surprises me even more when she slides her other hand up my neck, sending streaks of lightning down south. I tell myself it’s an act of self-preservation.

Her breath is hot in my ear. “Aiden, dance with me, please,” she whispers, but the panic is there, and this is what I do. I help people because I’ve been raised to. It’s in every drop of my blue blood to save people.

I tell myself this as we slip out of the booth and Katia glares at us. I tell myself this as I take her hand and walk to the dance floor. I tell myself I’m going to dance with Emma out of duty, to keep her away from Katia. And I pray real hard I’m not flushing all our work down the drain.

The second I pull her body against mine and her fingers dig into my shoulder, the second her curves align with mine, I forget about praying, and tighten my hold on her. She feels so damn good. How can a foreigner feel this good in my arms? I’m a Southern boy. My whole family is from South Carolina. Emma sounds British. Her accent doesn’t come through as heavy as some of the ones I’ve heard before, but that doesn’t make her any less foreign.

Never in my life did I think I’d like a foreign girl. Maybe it’s because of that mystery of something new, something you have to have, and once you’ve had it, your world settles again.

The air tightens between us, and I feel every muscle in my body tense as her body keeps brushing against mine. And I do mean every muscle. I slide my hand up her neck and into her hair. Dammit, it’s as soft as it looks. She moves her hips with mine, and her breath warms my shirt. It’s not helping right now. It’s been two years since I’ve held a woman. Her hand starts to tremble lightly in mine and I bring it in, holding it against my chest.

“Aiden,” she says, and I lessen my hold on her so she can look up. The look slams hard into my gut and other places I shouldn’t be thinking with. She looks really anxious, vulnerable even, and again it makes my protective side flare to full capacity. “Sorry I grabbed hold of you back there.”

I smile. “Katia can be a bit overwhelmin’,” I say to put her at ease. I should stop right there, but for some reason my mouth is not properly wired to my brain anymore, “and I really don’t mind. I’d rather be dancing with you than sittin’ over there.”

Her eyes leave mine, jumping to my chest, another nervous action. And then it hits me - she’s not nervous about Katia, it’s me, and I haven’t been out of it that long to know that it’s a sign that the attraction is mutual. I struggle to keep from smiling, knowing she’s all flustered because of me. 

“I want to ask you something,” she begins, “I don’t want you to ask me any questions and I won’t ask you any. I was wondering …” She swallows hard. “You look like a pretty decent fellow and I’d like to get rat-arsed without Medusa over there.” Medusa, good one. “Then … well, I was wondering if you would like to shag … as in a one night stand. No strings attached of course. Do you think you could do something like that?”

Fuck me!

I stop moving and people start to bump into us. It’s the last question I expected from her. Right now my mama would smack me upside the head. My brother would high-five me, and Zac would sigh with relief.

Without thinking, I grab her hand and drag her out of the bar. Once we’re outside and I’m sure we’re alone, I turn to face her. “Do you have a death wish, Emma?” I snap. The detective in me takes over, because shit, I care about what happens to people. I’ve seen too many women assaulted and murdered to just walk away and not care. “What if I’m some psycho?”

“You…” She looks shocked. “You’re not,” she says, and then glances away from me. She can’t even look at me. She sighs miserably and I hear it catch in her throat, and then she just starts to walk away.

“Hold on one damn minute there.” I take hold of her arm. “Why ask the first guy you see to go to bed with you?” She flushes a deeper shade of red. I frown, I can’t be wrong about her. I’m not wrong about people. I’ve done it for too long.

“You’re not the first bloke I saw. There were some odd blokes and then you.” She still won’t look at me. This is all about that stupid “wanting to experience things” for her.

I shove my hands through my hair. I can’t just let her go. I’ll worry myself to death whether her face will pop up on my screen tomorrow as one of the missing ones. “You’re being damn near stupid woman,” I snap. I wish I could just talk some sense into her but I’ll blow my cover and I can’t risk that. Damn it all to hell.

Then I remember about the getting drunk part. “And you want to get drunk?” I should be angry at her for being so careless with something as precious as her life, but I’m not. I’m just damn-well frustrated.

She nods, still looking determined. I can’t fucking believe this.

“Why?” I hate the fact that I now sound like her dad.

“I’ve never been drunk. I want to know what’s so fancy about it that people keep doing it.” The look in her eyes makes me take a step closer. It’s not pain or heartache, it’s something else. “I’m not looking for a big brother. I have one of those. Tonight is all I’m giving myself. Sloshed, wonky, a shag, all of it.” Her eyes pin mine back for the first time. “Are you in or are you leaving?”

Dammit! I can hear it now.
Hey, Mama, I just wanted to let you know I did the noble thing and got a girl drunk. Then, I slept with her so no other guy would.
It just doesn’t sound right. Maybe I can still change her mind.

“Fuck … okay,” I agree. “I’m in.”

She smiles brightly. Damn. Maybe she’ll change my mind.

~*~

Not even one hour.

Four drinks.

And a few more attempts from Katia to grab hold of Emma in some way.

That’s all it takes for Emma to grab my hand and drag me outside. She’s drunk all right. I was hoping to have more time to convince her otherwise. The nights are still warm even though it’s fall. Yeah, I’m trying to think of the weather and shit like that, but it all goes south when we get outside and Emma swings around. She slams hard into me and lifts herself up on her toes. I feel every curve of her body press into mine and my pulse speeds up, racing a mile a minute. Her mouth presses hot on the corner of my lips. I think she was aiming to kiss me, but missed.

“Let’s get you to a bed.” My voice comes out raspy, and I clear my throat as her hands slip down my chest. My muscles tighten under her touch as she drops them lower. I settle my hands over hers to keep them from going too low. I am a man, after all is said and done; I am still just a man.

My new roommate is only coming in on Sunday. I’ll let her crash in his room for the night. But she doesn’t pass out as I hoped she would, on the drive over. She’s really cute, walking to the wrong side of the car, and her eyes go huge every time a car comes at us. She must still not be used to driving on the opposite side of the road.

I stop outside the apartment block and watch her tug at her seatbelt as if it will just spring loose on her command. Like I said, real cute.

“Let me get that for you.” 

I reach over and unsnap her, but before I can pull back her hands are soft on my face and slip into my hair, pulling me in. Oh Fuck!

“Wow, they do get more intense when I touch your face,” she murmurs against my mouth.

“What?”

“The tingles,” she admits with her new-found drunken bravery.

I meant to put her to bed. I meant to be a gentleman. But there is only so much a man can take.