Chapter Six
Anthony
I don’t usually do things like this. I’m not a knight in shining armor. I don’t rescue damsels in distress. Hell, I don’t even like damsels in distress. I’ve seen men treat women worse than that before. It doesn’t matter how high the cover charge or how elite the clientele, jerks are jerks. And I never get involved because it isn’t my business.
This time? This time feels different. Like I have to do something to help the brunette from across the bar who’s so unlike Trinity. Maybe it’s those wide eyes. Gray, I realize, not blue. They’re so innocent. Sweet.
Besides, her lips taste like fucking candy. I’ve never been kissed quite like this before. An odd combination of enthusiasm and hesitation that makes me wonder about her. I remind myself to end the kiss before I forget my reason for kissing her. It would be so easy to take things too far, to get carried away.
Damn, I’d like to carry her away.
Her eyes are even wider than before, but I can see it’s because she’s stunned. I don’t blame her. I just hope she doesn’t slap me for trying to rescue her. That would be awkward.
“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day,” I say just loud enough for the dickhead behind her to hear, and with just enough promise in my voice to leave no doubt as to who she is to me.
She’s mine, buddy. Back off.
And to my own surprise, I actually like the feeling.
“Uh, yeah? Me, too?”
They come out as questions, which almost makes me laugh. At least she’s smart enough to try to play along, even if she’s scrambling to figure out the game. I find myself reluctant to move her away and then say goodbye.
“Come on. Let’s dance.”
The music has gotten louder, probably due to the growing crowd, and a few couples are settling in the center of a cleared area I assume is their version of a dance floor. I take her by the hand and don’t wait for her to respond before leading her over there.
The new song is a slow one. Perfect timing, I think as I slide one arm around her waist and pull her close enough to leave no questions in anybody’s mind. Mine. She’s trembling a little, but her hands rest on my shoulders, and she doesn’t step away.
“What is this?”
Her voice has a slight quaver to it, and I want to soothe her nerves.
I lean in on the pretense of needing to whisper in her ear just so I can take a deep breath of what she’s wearing. She smells incredible, the sort of scent that fogs my brain and makes me forget I’m trying to be a nice guy. I want to bury my face in her hair and breathe her in. Even with the light as dim as it is, I can make out her pulse jumping in her throat. Something about that vulnerability makes her even more attractive.
“I felt bad for you out there, with that douche following you around, making a scene. I guess I jumped in before thinking it through. I meant no disrespect.”
“Thank you for that. You saved me.” She laughs shakily.
“No problem. There’s only one catch.”
She stiffens, a wary look coming into her eyes. “What’s that?”
I don’t like that, so I grin and hope that I can put her at ease. “You have to pretend you’re my date until he goes away, otherwise he’ll know we tricked him.”
“Oh.” She laughs again, a little more genuinely this time. “Okay. I think I can manage that.”
She relaxes a little bit, but I can still feel the tension in her. She won’t get too close. Understandable. I did sort of push myself on her, even if it was for a good cause. I need to make her see that I don’t mean her any harm.
“You here alone tonight?” I thought I saw her chatting with a blonde, though I only caught the back of the blonde’s head as she disappeared. Some friend, if she even was a friend. Why would anyone leave this girl alone here? Funny how soon the sharks start to circle when they sense a fish is all alone.
“No, I’m not. My friend is around here somewhere. She was trying to fix me up.” Even though she tries to turn her face away, I can see the blush coloring her cheeks.
For some reason, that just makes me want to keep talking to her. To figure her out.
“Ohh, that’s what this is all about. She was throwing men your way.” Why not me, I wonder. I’m clearly the best catch here. Maybe the friend didn’t see me sitting there alone. Maybe she saw me and assumed I was there with a girl.
Then I realize the more important question: why do I even care?
“Yeah. She was trying to, anyway.” The girl frowns. “I wish she hadn’t, and not just because that guy was a jerk, either.”
“You don’t like being set up like that?”
“Would you?” she deadpans.
I chuckle and turn her in a circle, making sure our bodies collide just a little harder than they need to when I pull her back. I wink at her when I do it and hope that it comes off as teasing rather than sleazy.
Then I answer her question, “I guess not, if it means some douchebag chasing me around the bar, calling me names just because I didn’t fall for him right away.”
“Eh, it didn’t turn out too badly,” she teases right back. “You’re not a terrible dancer.”
I’m not a bad kisser, either. I leave that comment unspoken, seeing as how she’s still holding herself at bay. Still, she has a playful smile and a gleam in her eyes, so she’s not totally freaked out.
“What’s your name, by the way?”
“Jane.” She looks up at me like she expects a reaction.
All I can think is what a plain name for a gorgeous girl like her. Those thick chestnut waves and beautiful gray eyes. She has a delicate sort of face and a body with just enough curves to keep her from truly being petite.
After a moment of watching me, she continues, “I guess it’s not very memorable.”
She sounds almost sad, and I don’t understand. Maybe she wishes that her name would be something more. Something elegant or exotic or whatever.
It’s not a name like Trinity. Why am I thinking about her again? I don’t want to think about my ex. Not when Jane is proving so interesting. She’s not throwing herself at me, not giggling or flirting, and maybe that’s why I want so much for her to open up. Because she isn’t playing games. She’s intelligent, beautiful, and she enticed me at first glance from across the bar. I want to know more.
She looks to her right, and I see recognition spark in her eyes. My first reaction is to assume that asshole is watching us, and I’m ready to turn and fight if it comes to that. Only it isn’t him. I recognize the blonde who’s staring at us with her jaw on the floor.
It hits me. Shit.
“Is that the girl you’re here with?” I turn to Jane, who nods. “Are you kidding? Talk about a small world. She works for me—at my company, I mean. Chloe. How do you know her?”
She blinks, unrecognizable emotions playing across her face. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
She pulls herself away from me, just a little, and her face wears a tired smile. “You don’t remember me? Guess I didn’t make much of an impression after all. Maybe if I was still wearing my mocha.”
Her mocha? My brain whirs a mile a minute...until I realize what she’s saying, and it all comes together. Impossible. But now that I know, I can’t deny it.
“You?” I ask in disbelief.