“Who?” Colin glanced in the direction Jake was looking. Several minutes passed before he located Ariel in the area roped off for guests of the Ritz-Carlton. “Cool, she made it.” He went back to taping his wrists.
Jake frowned at Colin’s lack of reaction. “You okay?”
“Hmm? Yeah.” A flicker of a scowl passed over Colin’s face. “I think I misjudged her.”
“What?”
“After you left us last night, we hung out for a bit longer, and then we left too. I walked her back to the Ritz.”
Jake said nothing. If Colin wanted to talk, he would.
“Got an air kiss and a sexy smile. That was it.” Colin shrugged. “The way she flirted, I expected quite a bit more.”
“It’s not a bad thing for a woman to decide not to jump into bed with a man she just met that morning.”
Colin chuckled. “Not for her, sure, but what about me? Anyway, there’s the party tonight. Can I use your room if she decides—?”
“What?” Jake scowled. “You want to screw her in my room?”
“Why not? The Ritz is too far away, and my apartment is too far away. She might change her mind by the time she gets there. You gotta strike in the heat of the moment.”
“No. Hell, no.”
“Come on, man—a favor between friends.”
“No.” Jake shoved past Colin. “Now, get your head out of your ass—”
“I’m trying to get my head into a very fine ass.”
He spun around and fisted his hand in Colin’s shirt.
“Whoa!” Colin held his hands up. “What’s got into you, man?”
“Use your head, the one on your shoulders, you asshole. You’ve got a sister. I’ve got a sister. Did you want men talking about them that way?”
The sardonic grin on Colin’s face dropped away. “Huh.” Embarrassment flickered across his face.
Sick to his stomach, Jake released Colin’s shirt and turned away. His burst of temper had little to do with Trina and everything to do with Ariel. Not smart. Picking a fight on a game day with his partner over a woman who had barely exchanged a word with him was downright stupid.
He had to get a grip on himself and his ridiculous physical reactions to her. He had no reason for it. She was pretty, but not necessarily prettier than the two women—what were their names anyway?—who had invited him out clubbing the night before. She had a charming, flirty style, but then again, so did most valley girls. She was obviously a trust fund baby too. Her Ritz-Carlton holiday as well as her obscure remarks on her job, or the lack thereof, the previous night suggested as much.
Jake watched as Alex and Brad stopped to chat with Ariel. Several other players, male and female, accompanied them. Ariel stood in their midst, laughing and talking as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world to be surrounded by attention.
She had a way of inviting company and conversation; she could make a person feel as if he were the only person in the world.
He ground his teeth. She did say she was a party girl. He had absolutely no use for a vapid socialite.
He’d always known it; she was completely out of his league.
Now that she had properly resolved to push Jake out of her mind, Ariel’s second day out on the beach was much more enjoyable. Alex and Brad came over to introduce her to their friends, and she did not lack for company all day. In between their matches, various players came to hang out with her under the shade of her umbrella. Her tray of cheese, crackers, and fresh fruit and the never-ending supply of water bottles from the Ritz-Carlton likely had a great deal to do with her popularity, but she enjoyed the company and conversations, even when they shifted to focus on Colin and Jake.
The pair had narrowly won their first match—one that was supposed to be a shoo-in for them. The second one had been much too close as well, although Jake’s aggressive play style and gambles paid off and they squeaked through with a victory. Their third match, against a team that was, arguably, better than Colin and Jake on their best day, was sucking wind.
“I don’t know what the deal is.” Alex leaned down and grabbed a slice of sharp cheddar from the tray. “They’re usually much better than that.”
Ariel glanced over casually. It would not do to admit that, in spite of her best efforts, her attention, safely concealed behind sunglasses, had been riveted by Jake. “Colin still looks relaxed.”
“It’s just a front,” Alex said. “He can be pretty ruthless. In fact, word is going around that he may be looking for a new partner.”
“Really? What’s wrong with Jake?”
“Nothing, just a difference in their ability to commit time to the game. Guess Colin thinks Jake is holding him back.”
“Jake? But I saw him from my hotel room this morning. He was running along the beach even before the sun was fully up.”
“He trains hard. We all do, but we train for more hours since beach volleyball is the only thing we do. Jake works too, so his time is limited.”
Ariel arched an eyebrow. “And he makes up for it with his intense, eager hunger to win?”
Alex laughed. “No, that’s just Jake. He’s always been like that.”
She could use a dash of intensity and eagerness in her bed, but in truth, intensity freaked her out. It bordered too close to obsession. Been there. Done that. Learned her lesson. Her former boyfriend, Leon Kinrath, had been intense and goal-driven too. In the end, she had gotten burnt. “Is he like that off-court, too?”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know. Jake keeps to himself. He doesn’t party much because he’s working late at night or early in the morning.”
“I didn’t realize that.”
“He usually bails early on parties, but tonight, he’ll be stuck since it’s at his place.”
“He doesn’t seem like the type to host a party.”
“Jake shares the townhouse with two others, and Pete is the ultimate party host. Expect crazy loud music, insane crowds, and lots of pissed off neighbors. Maybe even a cop or two.”
Duly warned, Ariel arrived at the party a little after 11 p.m. to find it well underway. As Alex had promised, the music boomed off the walls. Her heart thumped in time with the pounding bass as she eased through the crowd and smiled at the people who waved at her. It was good to be recognized. The party at Jake’s home offered both safety and welcome as she squeezed past the press of bodies and made her way to the narrow kitchen.
Cartons of beer stacked on the floor, and an impressive array of liquor lined the kitchen counters. She even found fresh fruit, crushed ice, and a blender, although it was clear no one had bothered to use them. It would be a shame to waste the fruit, she thought. Picking out some fresh strawberries, she made a daiquiri for herself and was about to take a sip when one of the female players she had met earlier that day stopped by the makeshift bar. Her eyes lit. “Did you make that drink?”
Ariel nodded. “You’re Lindsey, right?”
“Lauren. My partner’s Lindsey. Everyone gets us mixed up.”
“Sorry. Here.” Ariel put the cup in Lauren’s hand. “See if you like it.”
Lauren took a sip. A smile spread across her face. “Oh my God. It’s amazing. How did you learn to mix drinks like that?” She turned to the man standing behind her. “Here, try it.”
He sipped and nodded. “It’s great.” He eyed the selection of liquors behind Ariel. “You know how to make anything else?”
Ariel winked. “I know how to make everything.” She reached for another plastic cup. “What’s your pleasure?”
She mixed a vesper martini for him, and rum swizzle for Alex. When Colin came by to say hello, he got a vodka sunrise. By then, a line had formed at the bar, and Brad was dispatched to the nearby 7-11 to pick up more crushed ice. The music blended into a loud white noise, but she tuned it out the way she did every night working at Escapades. She flipped bottles and caught them flawlessly behind her back to the applause of the crowd. The blender whirled and spun her concoctions into plastic cups o
f alcoholic bliss. She handed them out, her flirty conversations and sparkling laughter included for free. When she ran out of ingredients, she substituted, often with great success. More people came back for a second run at the bar, this time asking for a special, created just for them.
Ariel jerked as a pair of arms slipped around her waist. She glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Colin.”
“Hey, baby.” He nuzzled her.
She turned her face away to escape his alcohol-infused breath. “How much have you had to drink?” She glanced at the counter behind her and counted her stock. “Did you take the entire bottle of whiskey?”
He leered at her. “Good stuff.”
“I needed that.”
“What you need is a man—” His grip tightened around her. One of his hands groped her breast.
She grabbed his hand and shoved it away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Following up. You’ve been leading me on for two days now. Don’t you think I know what you want?” He took her hand and pressed it against the hard bulge in his jeans.
She resisted the urge to knee him in his groin. “You must be completely wasted if you think anything you’ve said remotely turns me on. Go dunk your head—both of them—in ice water.”
He scowled. “You’re a tease. A fucking tease.” He spun her around so she faced him, and rubbed his erection between her legs. “It’s gonna be good. You know it, babe.”
She pushed him away. “I’m working.”
“You can work me over anytime.”
Ariel faced him squarely. “Colin, go away. I’m not interested.” She glanced past his shoulder and waved Brad over. “He’s had too much to drink. Can you put him in a cab back to his place?”
“I’m fine.” Colin shoved Brad away. The look he gave Ariel would have been menacing if his eyes hadn’t crossed at that moment. “You know what happens to little teases. They get what’s coming to them. They’ll get fucked in the ass, and they’ll never see it coming.” He stumbled away and almost walked straight into a wall.
Brad laid a hand on Ariel’s shoulder. “Sorry about that. We should have warned you; Colin gets foul-mouthed when he’s tipsy, and he’s can’t hold his liquor.”
“Yeah, he needs a warning label.”
“Jake’s usually quite good at reining him in.”
“Speaking of Jake, where’s he? Alex told me he lives here.”
“He rents a room here. I haven’t seen him around though. Want me to look?”
“No. I was just asking.” She suppressed a shudder. Her encounter with Colin had left her cold. She had dealt with drunk men before, but at Escapades, she was safe and on friendly terms with all the bouncers. Here, she was at a party with no one she knew, and the one person she thought she did know was officially a jerk. Probably just as well…
She sighed. Who was she kidding? If she had really wanted to sleep with Colin, she would already have done so. I’m just not a one-night stand kind of person.
It wasn’t too much to ask, was it, to really want to sleep with a man before sleeping with him?
Jake’s face flashed through her mind.
She gritted her teeth. No, not him either. Too serious. Too unrelenting.
He practically reeked of complications.
Too bad about the heat between them. It could have been magical.
Jake glanced up at the pounding on his bedroom door.
“Hey!” a familiar voice called out.
Colin. Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to alleviate the tension headache. Not now.
“Open up, asshole. Need your room.”
What Colin really needed was a kick in the ass. Jake shoved to his feet and flung open the door.
Colin stumbled in, his arms draped around two women—a redhead and a blonde.
Not Ariel was Jake’s first relieved thought.
The redhead blinked at him. “Don’t I know you?”
Her name was Carlie. Or Karen. She and the blonde were the two women he had met the previous night. He grimaced against the smell of alcohol on her breath.
Carlie lurched forward and stumbled against his chest. “Oh…nice and strong. Perfect. Just enough guys to go around.”
Jake gritted his teeth and glared at his partner. “Get out of here, Colin. I’m working.”
“Need your room,” Colin slurred.
“No. Get out.”
“Even brought one to share.”
The woman draped on Jake giggled.
He disentangled himself from her and shoved her back at Colin. “Out, all of you.”
“She shot me down again.”
“What?”
“Ariel. Fucking tease. She’s red hot until you get close, then she turns to ice.”
“Love your bedside manners. Were you this drunk when you tried to get her into bed?”
“I ain’t drunk.”
Jake stifled the sigh. “No wonder.”
Colin snorted. “You should nail her, man.” He rubbed his thumb against his forefinger. “You need a sugar mama, and you know she’s loaded.”
Jake shook his head. “You’re a sick man.”
“Easy money,” Colin sneered. “Come on, ladies. Let’s take this party elsewhere.” He glanced back for a parting shot at Jake. “You know I’m right!”
Jake slammed the door. Like hell Colin was right.
He slumped in his chair and stared at the computer screen, but did not really see the details of his client’s program. When his phone buzzed with an incoming call, he glanced at the screen, and grimaced.
He did not take the call.
Moments later, the phone buzzed again with a voicemail.
His breath escaped with a sigh as he listened to Trina’s message. Mom had forgotten to turn off the stove and one of the kids nearly got burned. His sister’s voice was choked, as if holding back tears. Didn’t he see that the living situation had to end?
He raised his gaze to the framed photograph of his father on the wall, right next to a poster of the Olympics opening ceremony.
His bank account was drained. The only way to fill it was by completing his IT projects, or by finding corporate sponsors, or—as Colin pointed out—a sugar mama.
It felt like a good while later, but Ariel finally noticed the drink requests tapering off. She checked the time on her cellphone. It was past one; no wonder the party was on its last legs. People headed out the door in groups of twos or threes. She closed her eyes, stretched out her back, and rolled her head to work the tension out of her neck and shoulders.
“Ariel.”
Her stomach did a slow flip.
She opened her eyes and saw Jake in front of her.
“I heard you’re the superstar of the party.” He smiled.
She leaned against the countertop to support her suddenly wobbly knees. “Would you like something to drink?”
“A Bud, if there’s any left.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I can do better than that.”
“I’m not big into surprises.”
Why did she get the feeling he wasn’t talking about mixed drinks. “It’s not a surprise. It’s a special.” She studied him. He’d want something powerful yet subtle, with elusive flavors, distinct yet impossible to pin down. She reached for various bottles. Without measuring, relying only on instinct and experience, she mixed his drink. No crushed ice; nothing would be allowed to dilute the flavor. The sprig of mint she added to side of the plastic cup was for scent as well as show.
She held her breath as he took a sip.
His eyes widened over the rim of the cup. “Wow.” He pulled the cup away from his lips and stared into it. “What is it?”
She winked. “A surprise.”
He laughed, acknowledging the jab.
Ariel rinsed out the blender. “I haven’t seen you around.”
“I was around.”
She tilted her head. “In the house or at the party?”
A smile inched across his face. “I
n the house. When the noise tapered off, I decided to come down and make sure no one had died.”
“No one’s dead, although a few people had to be dragged out of here. If you’re looking for Colin, he’s over there.” She nodded at three people making out on a cluster of cushions by the patio door.
Jake flicked a glance over his shoulder. When he looked back at her, his jaw was tense. The faint lines around his eyes hinted at anger, but she couldn’t imagine why.
“You have lots of groupies around. The two girls with Colin were asking for you at first. Quiet blonde and chatty redhead.”
He grimaced but said nothing.
She busied herself with closing the bottles and rearranging them in alphabetical order before wiping down the counter. Somehow, several hours of doing what she thought she despised—bartending—had steadied her emotions. It anchored her in herself, reminding her that she had an identity, even if it wasn’t one she was happy about. She glanced at Jake. “Are you avoiding them?”
“Avoiding complications.” He stared at an invisible spot on the floor.
She arched an eyebrow. “So am I.”
His gaze jerked up. “I see.”
“Do you really?” A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Perhaps his intensity wouldn’t get in the way if he, too, wasn’t looking for anything more serious than a one-night stand.
Find a hunk. Check.
Have an affair. Working on it.
“Well.” She stepped back. Take it easy. Play it cool. “Guess I should be going.”
“Shall I call a cab for you?”
“No, it’s all right. I’d rather walk.” She turned to face the front of the townhouse and pointed to the left. “The Ritz is that way, right?”
He did not quite sigh. “At one thirty in the morning, I’d recommend the ten-minute drive instead of the sixty-minute walk. I’ll drive you back.”
They got into his Honda Element, and Jake turned right—not left, oops—when they drove out of the townhouse together. He lowered the windows, and the night breeze swept through the vehicle. The night was quiet and cool—a welcome change from the heat of bodies packed into a small space.
Flawed: A Love Letters Novel Page 4
