by T. L Smith
One of the reasons I now use as an excuse not to visit them, is that I own one of the busiest cafés in my town—the Pink Café. The reason for its name you ask? Yes, it’s pink, and everywhere you look are tones of the color. It is an Instagrammer’s dream to take photographs of themselves by our flowered walls, or in front of my pink heart stands. I’m proud of what I’ve built, and people visit from all over the world to take pictures. And soon, I will have paid my parents back in full. I honestly cannot wait for the day. The pleasure will be so intense, and I’m sure I will be smiling widely when that time arises. To not be indebted to them anymore means I will not have to be surrounded by them and their wishes or demands.
“I need to change, or better yet, leave,” I say in the most irritated tone I can muster.
May shakes her head and steps off to grab our free drinks. That confidence of hers is a really good thing when we go out. She’s also been a massive help for the success of my café. Without her large following and constant posts, it wouldn’t be where it is today.
We move to the end of the bar, sit on two of the stools where it reads ‘No Service,’ and we sip our drinks while May scans the crowd.
“I’m going to pick someone for you to go up to and introduce yourself. Offer to buy him a drink. And if you do, my next three posts on Insta are all yours.”
That’s a bargain for me. May has close to a million followers and is growing exponentially. My little pink café has only fifty-thousand, but I’m hungry for more. She will bring in those followers. Every time she posts, my follows go up, and in conjunction with her posts we become busier. It’s a win for me. Her bright blue eyes shine at me knowing full well I’m going to say yes. She’s simply playing mean now by dangling that proverbial carrot in front of me.
“Move it, because your first post is tomorrow.” May throws her head back and laughs loudly.
I stand there waiting and watching for her to settle back down before she makes her choice. This is my chance—I will be able to go home after this and there is nothing more I want right now than my comfy bed and a book. I tap my heels waiting for her to settle the fuck down and pick.
Once she stops her cackling, May’s eyes scan the dance floor and stop. I watch her line of sight and smile. May would never want me to be with anyone who wasn’t photo-worthy, and this man is definitely in that category. Well, of what I can see of him anyway.
He has brown-blond hair with touches of light, which is curly and tied back in a low ponytail with a few curls straying out to the side. He’s tall and has quite a few women crowding around him. A few men, too. All of them seem to look up at him as if he’s the center of attention. He probably is, let’s make no mistake about that.
“That one. Go. Say hello.”
I turn my attention back to May, raise an eyebrow, and smile. I still haven’t seen his face because his back is to me.
Her smile is more like a gloating smirk. “Yes, him. The one with the fuck-me hair tied back. Go.” She shoos me, but before I turn to walk away, I ask, “Just hello, right? And three posts, if I do?”
She nods with a smile. “Yes. Now move it before one of the other women beat you to it and claim his ass.”
I turn, pull my dress down, and make my way through the throng of people. As I reach him, a girl who’s standing next to him looks me up and down, then dismisses me as if I’m nothing. I turn back to look at May, who’s eagerly watching me. Taking a deep breath, I give myself a little pep talk and tell myself I can do this. He’s just a man, and I interact with people all day at my little café, so saying hello isn’t going to kill me.
Facing him, I almost stop breathing. It literally feels like everything’s knocked out of me, including my breath. He’s facing me, watching me, and waiting for me to turn back around. His dark eyes bore into mine, and it takes everything in me to not take a step back and slowly retreat away. It’s not simply that his eyes are dark, there’s something else held in them too. Like he could eat me alive if he so pleased. And that thought is scary.
“We have enough company. Thank you,” one of the girls says. Her hand is on his chest, but he isn’t touching her. In fact, he isn’t touching any of them now I come to notice.
Removing my eyes from her, I look back to see him assessing me. He’s waiting to see what I’ll do. He still hasn’t uttered a word to me, and I haven’t garnered enough confidence to let any words leave my mouth.
This was a stupid idea.
I shouldn’t have let May talk me into this.
Stupid Instagram. Stupid May and her damn posts.
Deciding this isn’t worth my embarrassment, I go to turn, to walk away, but something in the way he watches me, makes me open my mouth and speak. “I came over to say hello.”
What the fuck!
Seriously… what the fuck!
Who even says that?
My back is straight, when really all I want to do is groan ever so loudly and cover my face with my hands in embarrassment. My eyes dart back up to his. He’s still watching me, and even in the dark lighting I can see he’s amused, just as I see his eyes are darker than everyone else’s. The music blares so loudly, and I hope that it’s loud enough for my words to be drowned out and that he didn’t hear me. But knowing my luck, and the look of amusement he’s throwing my way, I would say it’s a big fat no.
“Hello.”
His voice startles me. I didn’t expect him to speak. And neither did the two girls hanging by his side because they both look up at him with hopeful expressions. Then they turn their evil eyes to me when they realize he’s only looking at me.
“Who wears a yellow dress! You do realize yellow is so last season.”
He doesn’t look at the girl who spoke. In fact, he stands still, staring at me as if he doesn’t hear the words spewing out of her disgusting mouth as she’s stationary next to him.
“Goodbye,” I say, but managing a smile. This isn’t worth my time. No guy with evil spawns hanging off of him is worth my time or effort. I’ve done what I said I would do, and I better get my damn posts. I spin on my high-as-fuck heels and spot May standing in the same place I left her. The damn woman’s laughing, and as I come closer, I snatch the drink from her hand and down it all in one gulp.
“That was awful. No more of that shit. Do you hear me? No more.”
She takes the glass back from my hand.
“And is this dress really that bad?” I look down at myself, pleading with her for the truth.
May looks me up and down. “You look banging. Fuck! I would fuck you if I batted for the other team.”
“Well, okay.”
She turns, ordering us more drinks, and speaks over her shoulder, “He’s mighty fine though, right?”
I giggle like a schoolgirl at her words. “That he is.”
“I bet he likes to strangle his women. I read about that. It’s supposedly the new thing which has some sort of euphoric effect and can give you intense orgasms. Do you like to be strangled, Ev?” When she turns to face me there are now two drinks in her hands.
“I haven’t tried it.” I shrug. “But sure, I’d give it a try.”
May’s eyes flick past my head, and she coughs. One thing you should know about May is, she isn’t subtle. She starts nodding her head behind me, and I know, just know, there’s someone there. I really hope it’s not the stranger who I just interacted with.
“It’s him,” she says loudly enough for me and him to hear.
I stop the groan that wants to escape my mouth and turn around to face him. He holds that amused look in his eyes. I find it ever so charming. Shit!
“I only like to choke on a Tuesday, so you’re out of luck.”
Words! Words have left his mouth, and I have to remind myself he’s talking to me.
May stifles her laughter behind me while I stare at him, and don’t say a word. Not one, single word.
“I’m May. And this here is my friend, Everly Thorne. Everly with a Y on the end, in case you need to find
her on Insta.”
My head swings to her. Did she really just tell a complete stranger my whole name? She’s smiling, still holding our two drinks. I take one, putting it to my mouth to stop myself from talking.
“I’m free Tuesday if that suits you better, Everly.” He tests my name on his lips, and it rolls off as if it’s sweet like candy. I bet he tastes better than any damn candy you can buy. I don’t remove the drink from my mouth. I can’t remove the drink, and even when I’ve drunk the last little drop, I still hold it there against my mouth. Because he’s staring at me, waiting for me to answer. And I can’t. I really, really can’t. He has me awestruck. So much so, I can’t form words.
“Thorne? As in the family of Evergreen Thorne?”
“That’s the one. Big Papa is her daddy.”
He takes the drink from my hand—it’s empty so I let him. He places it on the bar behind me, and when he does, he leans in ever so close that I can smell him. Divine. That’s the word that comes to mind. My eyes close on instinct, and I breathe him in. He smells of sandalwood, and something else—something darker, maybe a little sinister.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you… Everly Thorne,” he says.
All I can do is nod. I’m too afraid to speak, and if I do, I’m still not sure what will come from my mouth.
“She’s pleased to meet you, too. She’s thinking about the right words to say. It happens when she’s awestruck,” May says.
My eyes go wide as I turn away from him and to her, hitting her arm, and she fakes that it hurt, before I turn back to him. When I do, those beautiful dark eyes are staring at me.
He leans in close, and I have to shut my eyes, unsure of what he might do. “I would like to take you home.” My eyes spring open to find him now level with me as I stare at his shoulder, his mouth near my ear as he whispers to me.
My head starts shaking. “I don’t go home with strangers.”
“Gunner,” he offers me his hand. “I live not far from here. How about you come back for a coffee? I’ll even text your friend my address.”
I turn to look at May, who’s nodding enthusiastically. But I’m not sure. I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve never gone home with a stranger.
“It’s just a cup of coffee. No funny business, unless you ask for it.”
“Okay,” I say, turning away from May who looks like she’s just seen Elvis.
I, on the other hand, am sweating out of every hair follicle on my body, considering I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do. Heading off to some stranger’s home who might turn out to be a serial killer.
“Gunner?” I ask, testing out his name. “I knew a Gunner once.”
He nods while putting his number into May’s phone as she holds it out for him.
“And what happened to him?”
I shrug. “I don’t really remember.”
“Such a shame,” he mutters, as his eyes assess me. “Shall we?” He offers me his hand, and, for some strange reason, I take it.
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Also by T.L. Smith
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Savage Collision (A Savage Love Duet book 1)
Savage Reckoning (A Savage Love Duet book 2)
Buried in Lies
Distorted Love (Dark Intentions Duet 1)
Sinister Love (Dark Intentions Duet 2)
Cavalier (Crimson Elite #1)
Anguished (Crimson Elite #2)
Conceited (Crimson Elite #3)
Insolent (Crimson Elite #4)
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Love Drunk
Hate Sober
Connect with T.L Smith by tlsmithauthor.com
