“Say it, or so help me…”
“What are you going to do?” I place my hands on my hips.
“I’ll… I’ll lift your dress and show the entire club those hideous granny undies you insisted on wearing tonight as well as your cobwebs.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “All right, all right. They’re cunts… are you happy now?”
“Louder and with more conviction this time.”
“They’re the cuntiest of cunts!” I say, raising my voice. Thankfully the loud music thumping out of the speakers drown out my words.
She roars laughing as she pulls me into her arms. “I fucking love you, Em.”
“I love you, too, Carla.”
There’s a sparkle in her eyes when she draws back. It’s not the first time I’ve told her that I love her, but the reaction I get whenever I do, tells me it’s not something she hears often. That saddens me. She’s such an easy person to love.
I’d be lost without her. Carla’s always pushing me outside my comfort zone, and the truth is, I need someone like her in my life. I need her more than she knows. I’m envious of her. She exudes confidence, which is something I’m truly lacking. Carla does whatever makes her happy, and to hell with the consequences. I, on the other hand, live my life by the book.
Structured and safe.
That pretty much sums me up. It keeps my head above water… my safety-net you could say. A way of ensuring I continue moving forward. I’ll never be that girl again. .
“Now that’s settled, let’s get shit-faced,” she says, reaching for the cocktail menu.
“Lets.”
Chapter Three
ASHTON
I spotted her the moment she walked through the door. My little sinner, dressed in the devil’s color red, of course. And fuck me if her body isn’t pure sin in that tight little number she’s wearing. She looks completely different from the woman I ran into this morning.
Completely different.
Yet my body recognized her instantly. Why out of all the clubs in LA, did she have to end up here? And looking like that. Is the universe fucking with my head? I hardly ever come here, I only chose this place because I had to pass it on my way home from my parents’ estate.
My eyes follow her every move as she walks across the club, hand in hand with another woman. My gaze involuntarily moves to her wrists that are now covered with two large bangles. Are they there purposely? Is she trying to hide her scars? Fuck. She’s somehow become my little enigma. As much as I tried to push her from my mind today, it was fruitless.
What’s her story?
Do I even want to know?
She has me tied up in knots.
I should take my own advice, turn away, and run. Just like I did this morning.
“Did you hear a word I said, Ash?” Grayson asks, pulling me back into the present.
“Yep, every single one.”
“You fucking liar. What did I say, then?”
When I don’t answer, he follows my line of sight. I still haven’t managed to peel my eyes away from her. She looks happy as she laughs at something the chick beside her says. I’m sitting unnoticed at the end of the bar with my best friend, Gray.
“Check out the tit’s on that one in the red.”
His comment makes my jaw tick. “Put your eyes back in your head, asshole.” My gaze snaps to him when he laughs. “I’m serious.”
“She obviously wants people to look, she’s got them out on display for the entire world to see.”
He’s right, and that pisses me off more than I care to admit. I have a good mind to go over there and demand she put on my jacket. “Just stop looking at her like that, all right?”
Grayson looks at me like I have two heads. “Wow. When did you become so possessive of a woman?”
“Just drop it, okay?”
“Do you know her?” I lift my beer to my mouth taking a long chug and shrugging my shoulders. When my eyes dart back to him, he’s smiling. “Jesus, you do. Who is she, Barclay?”
“None of your business, Edwards.”
He goes to stand. “Maybe I should go over there and introduce myself, then.”
“Sit the fuck down.” I reach for his arm, but he chuckles ignoring my request.
“I want to meet the woman that’s got your nuts on a platter.”
“I mean it, Gray. Don’t force me to hit you.”
“All right, lover boy, settle down.” He retakes his seat.
“Lover boy,” I scoff. “As if.”
Grayson slaps me on the back. “Keep telling yourself that, buddy. I’ve never seen you like this before…” He pauses for a moment. “Well, not for a long time, anyway.”
His statement makes me cringe, and I give him a silent plea with my eyes not to go there. Not tonight. It’s been a long day, and I just want to chill.
“Would you really punch me if I went over there?”
“Damn straight.”
He throws back his head and laughs. “I think every guy in this club has eye-fucked her tonight. Are you going to take us all on?”
“If I have to,” I grumble.
He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’ll be fucking damned, this one’s got you good.”
I scrub my hand over my face. What in the hell is wrong with me?
You can’t save her Barclay, she’s not Anastasia.
I can see him staring at me through my peripheral vision. “Sweet baby Jesus. Who is the woman?”
“If you must know, I met her this morning. But that’s all you’re getting.”
I want to tell him about the scars on her wrists, but I don’t. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I know he’ll tell me to stay the fuck away from her, which is wise and the kind of advice I should be taking on board, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to.
The fucked-up part of me.
Grayson Edwards knows me better than anyone, he’s been by my side through it all. The highs and the lows. Especially the lows. He’s the one person who helped me keep it together after Anastasia. Christ knows where I would’ve ended up if it weren’t for him. We’ve been best friends since elementary school. We’re also business partners, so even now, as grown men, we see each other daily.
“The girl she’s with is pretty hot,” Grayson says, flicking his head in their direction. “Those tattoos are smokin’. Damn, I’d tap her.”
I chuckle, I’m not going there. “You’d tap anything that moves.”
“Hey, I have standards.”
“Sure you do,” I say, mocking him. I get a kick out of riling him up, he bites every time.
I’m still watching sweet-thing as she grabs her girly frou-frou drink, taking a sip before heading toward a booth at the other side of the club.
Is it wrong that my dick wishes it was that straw?
My eyes are glued to her ass as she sashays across the room. I may not be interested, but I’m not dead. That short dress she’s wearing barely covers her backside, her cheeks are like two perfectly round peaches just waiting to be squeezed or bitten. I’d happily do both.
But it’s those damn legs of hers that rile me up the most. Christ. That tiny scrap of material only makes them appear longer. I’d like to feel them wrapped around me.