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“You do know there’s a fine line between confident and arrogant, right?” “Never heard any complaints before.” “Hate to break it to you, but you’re prob...
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“Does that mean that they’re lying to me about my drop-dead gorgeous looks too?” This man is freakishly attractive, but I’m sure he doesn’t need me to tell him that. “You’re not hideously ugly, but don’t get a big head, alright?” I grumble. “Oh, there’s plenty about me that’s big besides my head.” As if on cue, my eyes slide down to his crotch, and then I immediately avert my gaze. My nervousness elicits a laugh from him,
“You’re not hideously ugly, but don’t get a big head, alright?” I grumble. “Oh, there’s plenty about me that’s big besides my head.”
“I’m not making you nervous, am I?” he drawls, scooting an inch closer to me, just waiting for me to walk right into his trap.
“Why would you make me nervous?” His eyes roam over my pallor, which is beaded with sweat. “Because you’re warm,” he notes. He redirects his attention to the pulse pounding in my neck. “Because your heart’s racing.”
“And because you refuse to look at me.” Willing my blush to fade, I force myself to make eye contact with him. “Maybe I just don’t like you.” “I know I should feel emasculated, but that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
“Maybe I just don’t like you.” “I know I should feel emasculated, but that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” Don’t know if I believe that, but I’ll play along. “Masochist much?” I joke. “No. But with you, absolutely.”
Why does that do things to me? Fluttery things. Fluttery, bad things that I’ve never felt with anyone before. I can’t tell if he’s being genuine, but I don’t w...
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things to me? Fluttery things. Fluttery, bad things that I’ve never felt with anyone before. I can’t tell if he’s being genuine, but I don’t want to stick around to find out if he’s not. I’ve already made tha...
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I’ve had a shitty week, and I came to this bar to drink in peace and drown in my own existential crisis. Not to be peddled by an Abercrombie & Fitch model who’s trying to stick his three-inch punisher in anything that walks.”
He scrubs a large hand down his face, catching on the stubble dusting his jaw. “I appreciate you giving me the extra two inches.” I almost laugh, but my body refuses to give him the satisfaction. Upon my deadpan, he clears his throat. “That’s a joke, by the way.” “Sure it is, bud.”
He doesn’t curse me out for being a bitch. He remains firmly planted in his seat, still only inches away from me. Finally, he caves. “Are you here by yourself?” he asks.
“I wish it was as simple as boy problems.” My knight in shining armor casts me an easygoing grin.
“Is that your way of flirting with me? Dazzling me with an award-winning smile and hoping my jeans will just fly off like tear-away pants?” “Actually, most women tell me I don’t even need to smile. One look at me and they’re as naked as the day they were born.” “Oh, how charming.” He winks at me. “It’s a gift, really.”
that your way of flirting with me? Dazzling me with an award-winning smile and hoping my jeans will just fly off like tear-away pants?” “Actually, most women tell me I don’t even need to smile. One look at me and they’re as naked as the day they were born.” “Oh, how charming.”
retort struggles to climb up my throat. He leans in just a smidge, enough for his minty breath to feather over my face. “If I was flirting with you, you’d know.” Heel, girl!
Would I mind this mystery guy taking me in the bathroom and bending me over the sink? Maybe not as much as I thought I did. Do I think there’s a good chance of that happening tonight? Definitely not.
I’ve found that when people ask how you’re doing, a lot of times they don’t really care how you answer. They only ask to be polite.
Tears slather my cheeks with a warm wetness that intermingles with the spoiled air. “I’m celebrating my brother’s death. Well, not celebrating. I…I don’t know what I’m doing. He died four years ago. His name was Roden.”
“I’m celebrating my brother’s death. Well, not celebrating. I…I don’t know what I’m doing. He died four years ago. His name was Roden.” I don’t bother looking over, nor do I bother with wiping the snot off my face.
don’t tell many people about what happened to Roden. One, I don’t like to relive it. Two, it’s not my story to tell. When my grandmother on my mother’s side passed away, the kids in elementary school only said one thing to me, and that was “I’m sorry.” I get it. I mean, there’s really no perfect w...
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So color me surprised when the first word out of this stranger’s mouth isn’t the S word. “My mother died of cancer when I was eight.” Are we sharing sob stories with each other? I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that. Shit, I can’t say the S word now. “She was my best friend. She was also the best person I’ve ever met. She was caring and kind, and it was hard seeing her grow sicker. I wish I could’ve given her the life that she gave me. And I know we’re strangers, but I’m all too familiar with that guilt you’re describing—that feeling that it should’ve been you instead.” “It feels
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know we’re strangers, but I’m all too familiar with that guilt you’re describing—that feeling that it should’ve been you instead.” “It feels like you’re rubbing it in their face by being alive…like you’re disrespecting them by moving on.”
“Do you have any siblings?” His mouth rights itself into a smile. “I have a sister named Faye. She’s on the other side of the country right now going to college at UPenn. She’s studying early childhood education so that when she graduates, she can work with kids. She’s smart, hardworking, and somehow turned out to be a well-rounded kid despite the upbringing she had. I became her sole caretaker after my dad dipped.” “Wow. She sounds amazing,”
She sounds amazing,” I admit in awe, running my finger along the rim of my empty shot glass. “She really is.”
“If she’s well-rounded, then that means you did a good job looking out for her,” I add meekly. His eyebrows bounce up. “You think?” “I mean, I don’t know the ins and outs of your relationship, but I do.”
don’t know the ins and outs of your relationship, but I do.” I leave out the fact that I only know that because in my situation, my failure ended a lot differently.
He chuckles, and it’s an addicting symphony in my ears. It’s what I imagine heaven sounds like if it could be bot...
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“Do you live nearby? Maybe I should take you home,” he offers, splaying the back of his hand to my forehead. “Y...
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He steadies me by the waist, and sparks crackle over my skin from his touch.
Without another word, Mystery Guy is sweeping me out of the doors of the bar.
but what I found instead was a thousand times better. From the moment I stepped foot in that bar, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the lonely girl at the counter. Even with that dark parasol hanging over her.
Even with that dark parasol hanging over her. Autumn-colored ringlets fell softly in place on the middle of her back, her bangs framing a round face. Her eyes were dark, slathered in kohl that clung to the crescents of her lids and rode the length of luscious, dark lashes. She had a soft jawline and cherubic cheeks. And if my eyes didn’t deceive me, I could make out a few faint freckles that bridged over her nose.
bangs framing a round face. Her eyes were dark, slathered in kohl that clung to the crescents of her lids and rode the length of luscious, dark lashes. S...
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eyes didn’t deceive me, I could make out a few faint freckles that bridged over her nose. I didn’t mean to unnerve her, but I couldn’t stop staring at her body. She had curves in all the right places. Her cleavage was spilling out of her small top—one that I admired with a half-lidded gaze—and the hem of it ended just above her navel, where a sliver of tantalizing s...
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but I couldn’t stop staring at her body. She had curves in all the right places. Her cleavage was spilling out of her small top—one that I admired with a half-lidded gaze—and the hem of it ended just above her navel, where a sliver of tantalizing stomach extended into the...
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I couldn’t just leave her there, not with how drunk she was. I know plenty of bottom-feeders who would’ve taken advantage of the situation. The girl in front of me is a wobbly mess, so I’m doing the majority of the navigating for her.
I shrug my jacket off and wrap it around her shoulders, earning me a tiny half smile. “Thank you,” she says quietly,
“Aer,” she replies, a slight tremor to her vocal cords, one I’m hoping is from the cold and not my presence. “Air?” I ask, making a stupid motion with my hands. “Like, O2?” A laugh breaks free from her throat, and although it’s at my expense, I can’t help but love the way it sounds. Hoarse and full, melodic even.
“Short for Aeris.” The name suits her. It’s beautiful, just like she is.
Her breath is warm as it settles over my neck. Her lips are full, red—maybe even swollen
want to kiss her so badly. And she smells so good, like lavender mixed with a hint of strawberry. I inhale her like she’s an aphrodisiac.
And her touch…don’t get me started on her touch. I want it everywhere and all at once, scouring every inch of me. I want to know her body like the back of my hand, so I don’t have to open my eyes to find all the ways to make her come undone.
“Uh, it’s Hayes,” I respond, starting to walk, hoping she catches on and mirrors my strides. Fascination dances in her caramelized eyes, and she hiccups, lolling her head against my sternum.
“Hayes. Haaayyyeees. Hay. Yus,” she burbles. “That’s a nice name. Like hay, but with an S
“Mmm. I like that.” “Like what?” I humor her. “How you say my name.” I stop in my tracks. I don’t know what it is about this girl, but she gets all my wires crossed.
true, she would’ve gotten along great with Aeris. Aeris might be small in stature, but she commands the attention of the room like a big shot. Sherry valued authenticity in a person. She said it was something inherent, and she could sniff out an ingenuine disposition after just one interaction.
Aeris might be small in stature, but she commands the attention of the room like a big shot. Sherry valued authenticity in a person.
If you’d told me that some drunk chick at a bar would get me to open up about my mother, I would’ve never believed you. I never talk about her.
She looks a lot paler than she did back at the bar. Her lips part, and the last thing I expect her to do is burp in my face. It seems to startle her, and I have to stifle a laugh. “I’m so sorry,”
