Chapter 3
Adalyn
“Why the hell did I move out here? I hate this city. It’s too loud and there are too many people. Why is everyone here so rude!? Would it kill someone to say ‘excuse me’ once in a while? Seriously! And now, it’s freaking raining. No, correction, pissing all over us like it’s intentionally navigating away from our umbrella just to smack me in the face.”
“Would you stop your freaking bitching and just relax for once in your life and quit acting like a prissy twat. If I didn’t love your face so much I’d fucking punch it right now,” Stacy snapped at me.
I deserved it. We’d been out running errands for only an hour and I hadn’t stopped complaining since the moment we walked out the door. It’s not that I hated the rain, I didn’t care about getting wet, it was having to walk around the city in soaking wet jeans and water filled shoes just to be dragged into high end boutiques where they stared at you like you were a homeless person who wandered in off the street that really bothered me. Freaking judgmental bitches.
Since I rarely went out anymore and Stacy deemed our girls’ night at the club a “special occasion” she had insisted I find something nice to wear. Based on the dresses she made me try, it became obvious that the dress code was “slutty.” I wasn’t self conscious about my body, but I didn’t want to be drawing attention to myself, either. The goal for tonight was to try to have fun while remaining inconspicuous, not flash my lady bits to every man within a ten-foot radius.
“I need a break, Stacy. I’m hungry and tired and I need to dry off. Get some caffeine in me and I’ll be in a better mood. Not a good mood, but a better one,” I pleaded, clasping my hands together as if in prayer and giving her my best pouty face. I was not above begging when it came to caffeine.
“Fine. I need to stop by Carrie’s work first to drop something off to her and then we can head to the sandwich shop and take a break. But then I swear to all things holy, if you do not perk up and cooperate after that, I will seriously cunt punch you.”
She meant it. She had done it before. I cringed at the memory.
Grumbling under my breath, I followed her to Carrie’s work. Freaking Carrie. I shouldn’t hold such animosity towards her since I’ve never even really had a full conversation with her. She just rubbed me the wrong way, I couldn’t help it. Okay, I could help it if I really tried but I didn’t want to try.
Next thing I knew, we were walking up the steps to some huge, fancy ass building. The entire front side of the tall building was made up of windows. They were slightly tinted so you couldn’t see inside very well, but I imagined at night you could see almost everything.
When we opened the doors and walked in I immediately felt uncomfortable. Everything looked so…clean. Sharp edges, shiny surfaces, ridiculous art sculptures that looked like heaps of metal that had been rescued from the dump. I hated it. I lived my life in color. Warm, bright and creative environments are what I felt most comfortable in. I couldn’t wait to get out of this corporate prison. It’s no wonder Carrie worked here, seeing as how her personality was as cold and rigid as the building.
Stacy started to walk up to a woman sitting behind a large desk, but when she began to speak, a tall man appearing out of nowhere interrupted her. I turned slightly, pulling my eyes off of the hideous art, only to be faced with the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Yes, creature, because there was no way the man standing in front of me was an actual human being. Maybe a mirage? I was really hungry. Maybe my blood sugar had dropped so low that I was hallucinating sex gods.
As I neared where Stacy and the sex god were standing, I realized I wasn’t unconscious and only dreaming about the delicious man candy in front of me. Nope, he was real. I could reach out and touch him if I wanted to. And I really wanted to. But I didn’t. I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself, but I did. Go me!
He had to be at least 6’3”, maybe taller. Dark hair, a little longer on the top, perfect for running your fingers through. Dark eyes that could weaken the knees of all womankind and intimidate even the most powerful men. Chiseled, sharp features defined a face that, if he were scowling, would make him extremely terrifying, but he was smiling. A small dimple on his left cheek made his gorgeous face look more than adorable.
I’m pretty sure I died for a couple of minutes. Someone should have checked my pulse, or given me CPR. I’m confident that I stopped breathing. I’d never seen someone so perfect in real life. I literally wiped drool from my chin. Yep. I was drooling. Luckily no one was paying attention to me. How could they? The example of magical, manly perfection that was standing before me had pulled everyone’s attention right to him, and I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one drooling.
And yes, you heard me right. Magical. The only way a man could be this stunningly perfect would be from the assistance of some kind of fairy god mother or a higher being.
Oh shit, I’d been standing there staring for God knows how long. Being caught staring was enough to make me feel embarrassed and vulnerable, especially when I noticed the smirk on his face. I only felt like an idiot for about two seconds though. Any time I felt any sort of ‘weak’ emotion I quickly replaced it with anger and bitchiness, a defense mechanism I had perfected over the years that ended up biting me in the ass every single time, but I was too stubborn to change.
I forced myself to tear my eyes away from his body, mostly because if I didn’t then I wouldn’t be able to stop trying to picture him naked. His eyes seemed like a safer option. So I looked up at him, right into his soul searching, will power devouring, panty dropping eyes. I was strong, I could resist him. Or at the very least, I was good at pretending.
That’s right, buddy. I’m immune to your tricks. I know I don’t know him, but I know guys like him. They know exactly how sexy they are and they think they can melt the panties right off of any woman they deem worthy of their charm. And let’s be real, if I wasn’t so messed up, my panties wouldn’t have melted, they would have gone up in flames. Unfortunately for him, my panties were fireproof when it came to his kind. No matter how devastatingly handsome they were.
Go ahead, slick, give it your best shot. Flash me those pearly whites.
Right on cue, he flashed me a grin that probably would have most women creaming their pants on the spot, as he held his hand out, expecting me to grab on for a friendly shake. I’m sure he thought that as soon as we touched I would swoon. Probably expected me to sigh dreamily and flutter my eyelashes at him. So despite my raising body temperature, shaky legs and quivering sex, I did what I do best.
I made everything awkward.