“Just getting in?” Melody asks, reaching for me. “Late night.”
I put my arm around her slim waist and pull her in. “It’s about to get later.”
“I like the sound of that,” she says and we move inside, clothing coming off instantly. Melody isn’t beautiful, but she’s hot by anyone’s standards. She’s tall, fit, and tan. Her hair is dyed blonde, usually done up, as well as her makeup. Her tits are as fake as her new nose, but what the hell? You’re only young once. She told me her goal in life was to look like a blonde Kardashian, whatever the hell that means.
We fumble our way into my bedroom and fuck on top of my unmade bed. I collapse next to her when we’re done, and she rolls over, running her fingers through my hair like she did the last time we fucked.
“Noah,” she pants.
“Melody,” I say back.
She pushes up, large breasts smashed against my chest. Melody moved in across the hall three months ago, and we’ve hooked up several times. It’s been a good arrangement. She makes up some excuse to come over, then another to take off at least one item of clothing, then we end up in here, naked and tangled together.
Or sometimes I bang her in the kitchen.
Or against the large, floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.
She hangs around for a while then leaves. The rules have been unspoken, but she knows I’m not one to date. What we have—or don’t have, really—is working out great.
“I’ve been thinking,” she starts, speaking slowly as she traces a tattoo on my chest with her finger. I flick my gaze to her face. Fuck. She has that look in her eye. I should have known better than to shit where I eat.
Or in this case, fuck who lives across the hall from me.
“Oh yeah?”
“We should go out sometime.”
I flip her over on top of me and smack her ass. “Why should we do that when we have so much fun in here?”
She laughs, but it’s not enough. Fuck me. “I’d love to introduce you to my girlfriends.”
“Some other time, babe,” I say, not wanting to cross her off just yet. This is what my life is about.
No strings. Nothing to hold me back, to slow me down. Fucking, drinking, and raising hell might catch up with me someday, but not today.
“I gotta get ready for work,” I tell her.
She sighs and gets up, putting her clothes back on. “I’ll see you again?” she asks.
“Sure thing. We live in the same building.”
She gives me a “that’s not what I meant” look that I ignore. Just take the hint so I don’t have to tell you. I’m don’t deliberately break hearts. Just accidentally.
I’m not against a relationship. Having a steady girlfriend, someone to come home to … someone to love. But I won’t settle. I’ll keep looking for that one woman I can’t live without, the one who completes me in a lame Hallmark card sort of way. Though really, I don’t have to search hard. I know exactly where that woman is, where she’s been all these years.
Problem is, she’ll never love me.
Chapter 3
LAUREN
I TAP MY nails along the pink case of my phone, watching TV while checking the time every thirty freaking seconds. My date is five minutes late, and every minute that ticks by tells me this is a horrible idea.
And I think I’m being stood up.
Which bothers me and doesn’t at the same time. This guy doesn’t know me, so I can’t take it personally (but I do.) Because what if Jenny showed him my picture and that was enough of a turn off? I’m not bad looking, but I’m nothing spectacular.
Vader and Sasha lay by my feet, both chewing on various dried cow parts. I take my attention back to the TV, watching Ariel swim through the ocean, longing for a man she can’t have. I love when the Disney Channel plays the classics on the weekend. Though, it’s not like I don’t own every single one of them on DVD.
Ten minutes later, I stand up to change. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror above the couch and sigh. I went all out tonight. Attempted to curl my hair, heavy eye makeup that even included my eyebrows. According to the millions of beauty pins I went through on Pinterest, that’s a must. It took three tries, but I was able to contour my face.
I’m wearing my best pushup bra, giving my average-sized breasts the biggest boost possible. Over that went a pink dress that showed off my cleavage and hugged my curves. I have on my favorite charm bracelet (all the charms came from childhood vacations to Disney world) and Cinderella earrings. Yeah. I like Disney. A lot.
I’m dressed to the nines with nowhere to go. What a waste of time. I make it into my bedroom when the dogs bark. Is my date finally here? I quickly fluff my hair and pad my way through the living room, standing in the tiny foyer, if you can even call it that.
A car is in front of my house, but no one has gotten out yet. I spy through the living room window. The guy—Luke is his name—looks like he’s on the phone. A few more minutes tick by before he kills the engine and gets out.
Twenty minutes late.
It might be stupid, but I’m insulted. Yeah, this is a blind date but have some freaking respect. And yeah, I’m taking it personally again. Dammit. I hurry into the kitchen, grab a handful of dog treats, and toss them as far as I can when the doorbell rings. I step into tall heels, grab my purse, and slip on my coat, then sneak onto the porch.
“Hi,” I say, closing the door before Vader can rush out. He’s protective like that. “Sorry, it’s just easier to keep the dogs inside.”
Luke, who is tall, dark, and handsome like Jenny promised, smiles. “Sounds like it.”
I hold out my hand. “I’m Lauren, nice to meet you.”
Luke takes a second to look me over before shaking my hand. Does that mean I met his approval?
“Luke. Shall we get going?”
“Yeah,” I say and snap my mouth shut. I will not comment on how late he is … I will not comment on how late he is. “Where are we going?”
“La Cantina,” he says and walks ahead of me to his black BMW. “My buddy’s working the bar tonight and can get us free margaritas.”
“Sounds fun,” I say. I’ve never heard of that restaurant, but I do like Mexican food. And watermelon margaritas. Though if I get one, I need to drink it slow. Tequila and I don’t mix. Or maybe we do mix, and mix too well? It doesn’t take much to get me shit-faced and blacked out when it comes to drinking tequila. Been there, done that in college.
I get in the car and settle onto the leather seat. It smells new, and everything is impeccably clean. Luke plops into the driver’s side and starts the car. Rap music blasts from the speakers. We make it down two blocks before he turns the volume to a level where we can speak.
“So, your sister-in-law tells me you’re a vet?”
I mentally roll my eyes. Why do people always think I’m a veterinarian? Do they not know what a tech is?
“I’m a vet tech. Very much like an animal nurse.”
“Ah, so you want to be a vet then.”
I do, but am able to pull apart the subtle insult in his statement. Do all nurses want to be doctors? Nope. Do all techs want to be vets? You bet your ass not.
“Yes. I just applied to vet school. I’m waiting on the reply now.”
“I’m a lawyer,” he says without me having to ask. “And I just got in at the Harrison firm. You’ve heard of them, I’m sure.”
“Uh, probably. Do they have a commercial with a cheesy yet catchy song?” I ask and turn to him, smiling.
“No,” he says, void of any humor. “The Harrison firm doesn’t need commercials.” I raise my eyebrows and nod. He tells me about his hot-shot firm the rest of the way, talking himself up the entire time.
Maybe he’s nervous and trying to impress me … or maybe this guy is just an asshole and that’s why his girlfriend left him.
La Cantina is on the outskirts of town, bordering the line between where I feel safe and where I’d never dare go alone at night. Or during the
day. It’s just a part of town I’d avoid unless I had a sword-wielding Prince Charming at my side. And by sword I mean guns, because I’m pretty sure this is where the high school kids come to buy drugs.
We wait for a table in the busy restaurant, then get seated near the bar. Luke leaves me to talk to his bartender friend, and after ten minutes, I look around and see him talking it up with a pretty blonde behind the counter. So that’s his “buddy.” Interesting.
He comes back with two drinks in hand. I take a sip of mine and recoil. It’s so strong.
“So, Lauren,” he starts. “Tell me more about yourself. What do you do for fun?”
I dip a chip into salsa and look at Luke. Fun. My definition of fun probably isn’t his. “I like to read and watch TV. I’m a sucker for fantasy shows. And I foster dogs, so I spend a lot of time training them. I love anything Disney and have been getting into online computer games a bit lately. One of my friends raves about League of Legends.”
He keeps looking at me, and I realize he’s waiting for me to continue and tell him something he can agree is “fun.” But that’s what I like to do. I like to hang out at home with a good book or a good show. I like to cuddle with my dogs and pretend I’m going to go off on an adventure where I battle villains and meet Prince Charming.
“Do you work out or anything?”
I nod. “I jog with the dogs. I’m not really a fan of running. I mostly do it in case I find a wardrobe or something that takes me to a magical land. I want to be ready for an epic battle.”
Luke looks at me like I’m a circus freak. He’s never heard of Narnia? He’s the circus freak.
“What about you?” I say and eat the chip I’ve been holding.
“I hang with friends. Work out. Play video games on the weekend when I’m not playing football with the guys.”
I mentally sigh. He doesn’t need to go on to explain. He’s basic; one of those people who likes mainstream stuff just to be mainstream, and anyone who doesn’t blindly float down the river of social norms is labeled, and not in a good way. People like him still apply the middle school caste system, and he’s a jock and I’m a nerd.
Well, fuck you, Luke, and your high-paying job and good looks. I sit back and smile, covering up how crappy I’m feeling inside. If he doesn’t like me, his loss … blah, blah, blah, I know. But still … no one likes to be given that look.
We make awkward small talk until our food comes, and then he starts telling me about a case he’s working on. He knows his client is guilty of discriminating against pregnant women, and “can see why.” And now I just can’t with him.
“But that’s illegal,” I say. “And you’re supposed to uphold the law, right?”
He waves his hand in the air. “That’s what cops do.” He leans in. “And, honey, I make hell of a lot more than a damn cop.”
I almost choke on my taco. So he’s saying he doesn’t have to uphold the law as long as he gets paid, right? Wow. This guy is a winner. I have no idea why his long-term relationship ended. I roll my eyes, not even attempting to hide it.
“Hiring a pregnant lady cost my client’s company. Filling her position during leave takes away too. And when they have one, they tend to have more. Having a baby makes women all wack-a-do crazy with hormones and shit.”
I scoop up the last of my rice and beans, using my fork to push it onto my chip. I finish chewing, swallow, and take a big sip of my margarita. Then I grab my purse and coat.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say. I get up and walk right out the door. I call Katie as I walk, and get her voicemail. She’s probably out with her friends and can’t hear her phone right now, and most likely isn’t in the position to drive anyway.
I step onto the covered patio, getting an instant chill. Misty rain is falling around me, and the air is thick with the threat of a storm. I put my coat on and call Jenny. She doesn’t answer either. She’s probably working and won’t be off until later. I try my brother next; still no answer. I sigh. I could call my mom, but I don’t want to make her drive all this way. Julie is another option, but it’s late and she has her kids.
I need to get away from Luke before I throw a drink in his face or stab him with my fork. He makes my skin crawl, and the thought of getting in the car alone with him is quite frightening. I look around the dimly lit street. There is a bar not far from here, definitely within walking distance.
It’s called The Roadhouse and ninety percent of the parking lot is filled with motorcycles, despite the chilly air and the threat of heavy rain. If anything, I can go in, order a drink, and wait for one of my family members to answer. Jenny owes me; after all, she set this disaster of a date up. It’s getting late, so she should be off soon, and I’m not that far from the hospital for her to come pick me up. I try Katie one more time then push off the side of the building, walking toward the glow of the neon sign.
Chapter 4
NOAH
THE BAR IS busy, packed like usual on a Friday night. The crowd is rough and loud, the music even louder, the smell of cigarettes, booze, and leather filling the air. I bartended here for years, and paid my way through college on tips. It holds a special place in my heart. I used my first fake ID to get in here. I got in my first bar fight at this place. And it was my first place of legit employment.
Joey, the owner, isn’t getting younger, and he’s filling in for a call-off tonight and playing second bartender. I came here with the intention to bring someone home with me, but when I see the old man struggle, I hop behind the bar and take a few orders. I was one hell of a bartender back in the day. You don’t lose those skills.
I’m taking in orders, grabbing my tips, and serving drinks at record speed all while talking to the regulars and hitting on women. Time flies by and a weird sense of nostalgia takes over, like I’m back in college and working my ass off to get an art degree. No one but Joey knew how much it meant to me to actually graduate. I wanted to come home with that fucking degree if it was the last thing I did.
The mad rush slows down, and I’m about to hit the floor again. I’ve already set my eye on who I’m going to take home with me tonight. I have it all planned out, and am ready to cut through the crowd to get to the chick in the tight leather pants. Yet I just happen to look up the door opens.
And she walks in.
My heart does a weird skip-a-beat thing. Just like it did the first time I saw her. I freeze, and run my eyes over Lauren Winters. She’s wearing a low-cut pink dress that showcases her tits and hugs all her curves. Her dark hair is swept up and away from her face, and her makeup is done, simple yet elegant.
She’s beautiful.
Just like the first time I saw her all those years ago when we were just teens. I wanted her then, back in high school, before I found out she was my best friend’s sister. Being off-limits only made me want her more, and I’ve never been able to fully get her out of my head.
Over the years I got to know her. She’s a little neurotic, which is adorable in a weird way, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, one of those people who’d do anything for anyone. She poured her heart and soul into helping animals, and is quiet, kind of a book nerd, keeps to herself, and stays out of trouble.
She’s my exact opposite.
And right now, she’s looking upset. I go around the bar to get to her. When I look for Lauren again, she’s gone, hidden behind the many bodies that crowd the bar.
I go from curious to concerned. This isn’t the type of bar someone like Lauren Winters should be at alone, or, really, at all. The crowd here is rough, and no one comes in wearing a classy dress, expensive heels, and gets out with no trouble.
Why the fuck is she here?
I wipe my hands on my pants and hurry through the crowd, pushing past dancers. I need to find Lauren.
Finally, I spot her in the back, leaning against the wall. She looks frightened and keeps her head down, quickly typing on her phone. Right before I get to her, Neil, one of the regulars, blocks my path. Oh fuc
k no. I know Neil, and know he’s a pushy asshole when it comes to women. I might not have room to talk, but I’m never pushy. I never have to force myself on a woman to get her to sleep with me. Not like Neil does. I’ve had to escort him out more than once for getting too up close and personal with the ladies.
“Lauren,” I call in a loud, deep voice.
Her head snaps up and she has to look around Neil’s large frame to find me. She smiles and relief brightens her face. I don’t think she’s ever looked relieved to see me.
“Noah,” she says and Neil turns. He doesn’t particularly like me. I have thrown a few punches to put him in his place. He huffs and leaves, acting like he was walking somewhere else anyway.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I get closer. I notice her hair is damp. So is her jacket. It’s been raining on and off all evening.
She lets out a breath and shakes her head. “Long story.”
I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. She’s a several inches shorter than me, even in heels. It takes everything I have not to stare down her dress. She has a rocking body, one I’d love to touch and have on me, under me, pressed against me in any way, but she never shows it off.
Conservative, that’s how she’s always been.
“You’re at a biker bar dressed like you just left the fucking opera. I need to hear this story.”
“Jenny set me up with someone for a date and it did not go well.”
“That’s not a long story.”
“That’s a summary.”
I smile. “What happened?”
“What?” she calls over the thumping base.
I lean in closer, putting my hand on her waist. She moves away but backs into the wall. She can’t get any farther from me. “What happened on this date?”
She purses her lips and shakes her head. Then she sighs and moves her face closer to mine, putting her lips by my ear. Her breath on my skin makes me shiver.
There is not a single woman in the world I’ve wanted more than Lauren Winters.
[2016] First Comes Love Page 3
