by G. K. DeRosa
Someone grabbed my shoulder from behind, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Hey, you okay?” Just Ricky.
I turned my sights upward again, but the guy and his weird eyes were gone. “Yeah, I’m fine. Did you get me a drink or what?” He handed me a plastic cup filled with amber liquid and ice. I took an eager sip and then grimaced. “What is this crap?”
“Diet Coke.”
“What am I, twelve?” I gave him my best evil eye.
“I promised the Swede we wouldn’t drink if he got us in. He just got this job and doesn’t want to lose it.”
I rolled my eyes and took a swig of my soda. “Unbelievable.”
“Forget it. Come on, let’s go dance.” Ricky grabbed my hand and dragged me through the crowd and onto the dance floor.
After a few minutes, I was back in my element. My body took over, and I was no longer in control, moving and twisting to the electric sounds the DJ concocted. Ricky spun me around and began grinding his butt up against mine, his natural Latin rhythm no contest to my sad white girl moves. Before long we had a crowd around us, and Ricky was showing off all his best stuff. I tried to keep up for as long as I could, but once he started busting out his old-school break dancing, I was out for the count. I signaled to him that I was going to the bar. He winked without missing a beat.
Laughing and out of breath, I made my way to the circular bar below the DJ’s booth. Ricky had been right: this was exactly what I needed to get out of my funk. The truth was that it was my birthday tomorrow, and it was a day I pretty much hated. It brought back too many bad memories I’d rather never think about.
“Can I get you a drink?”
I whirled around, searching for the owner of the deep voice. I turned to the left but felt a tap to my right. I spun back around. A guy with jet-black hair and a wry grin stood just inches away.
“Whoa there, buddy. Have you ever heard of personal space?”
“Sorry.” He took a step back. “It’s a little tight in here.”
He was right. He was shoulder-to-shoulder between two other guys while a drunk girl pushed up against his back trying to get to the bar. There was something disarming about his smile, so I decided not to give him my feisty routine. Plus he was totally hot. “Fine, I’ll give you a pass this one time.”
“So how about that drink?” He smirked as he extended his hand. “I’m Damian.”
“Aria.” I scanned him from top to bottom to figure out how old he was. Definitely at least twenty-one. “I’ll have a Cosmo.”
Now it was his turn to look me up and down. He arched his dark eyebrow, assessing me, then when he seemed satisfied he signaled to the bartender. The tall blonde practically sprinted to get to him. Now I was impressed.
She returned seconds later with my Cosmo and his bourbon on the rocks. Smiling, he handed me the drink. “It matches your hair.”
“Very perceptive.” I twirled one of the hot pink streaks that Ricky had added. “It’s my favorite color.”
“It’s a good one for you.” He raised his cocktail and clinked it against my martini glass.
As I took a sip of the fruity drink, I peered over my glass and snuck a quick look at his eyes. They were amazing—a smoky steel gray with tiny flecks of aqua. They were like none I’d ever seen before. His lip curled up in a grin as he caught me staring. I had to laugh. “Your eyes are pretty cool.”
“Thanks. Yours are beautiful, like the translucent aqua of the Caribbean.” He paused and took a swig of his bourbon, never dropping eye contact. “So do you come here often?”
“Wow, I haven’t heard that one in awhile.” I bit my lower lip to stop myself from laughing. “Does that line really work with the ladies?”
“It’s not a line.” He took a step back, his hands raised. “I’ve been here a few times and never seen you. It was an innocent question, I swear.”
“Umhmm…” I decided to let the cheesy line pass since his eyes were making my insides melt. “This is my first time. My best friend Ricky dragged me here tonight. ” I got on my tiptoes to see over the crowd to find him, but it was no use. Even with my heels, I was way too short, and the crowd was way too thick.
“Am I keeping you?” He turned his head over his shoulder, glancing in the direction I was searching.
“I should probably go find him. I don’t want him getting into any trouble without me.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re the one that’s trouble?” he asked with a mischievous smirk.
I ignored the heat rising from my middle and finished off my last sip before answering. “Too bad you won’t get to find out.”
He grabbed my hand as I turned to leave, twirling me toward him, his eyes intent on my lips. “Give me your number before you go.”
“That sounded like a demand.” I took a step back and set my jaw.
He cleared his throat, averting his eyes to avoid contact. “I’m sorry. I just… I’d like to get to know you better.”
“Look, it’s Damian, right?” He nodded and zeroed his steely gaze in on me. “I appreciate the drink, but I already have a boyfriend, and he’s enough to handle.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.” He cracked his knuckles as he waited for a comeback.
This guy was good; I had to admit. And gorgeous. But things were bad enough with Omar right now and another guy was the last thing I needed in my life. “Goodbye, Damian. Maybe I’ll see you around.” Without giving him a chance to reply, I disappeared into the mass of grinding bodies on the dance floor.
After three circles around the club, I still couldn’t find Ricky, and somehow my thoughts kept straying to a certain steely-eyed stranger I had left at the bar. I glanced at my watch. Crap, how did it get so late? Where is he?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Ricky. Finally.
Sorry, girl, you’re on your own. The Swede got off early, and I’m out.
“Unbelievable!” I yelled as I slammed my phone back into my pocket. I hated taking the subway back into the city alone—not because I was scared, but because the ride was so long and boring. I’d probably fall asleep and miss my stop and end up in Inwood. Another stellar start to my birthday.
Grumbling to myself about the worst best friend ever, I searched for the quickest exit. The entrance was all the way across the dance floor. Man, I do not want to get jostled against all those sweaty bodies again. I looked around. A red neon sign glowed from behind the floating DJ booth to my left. I pushed my way through and shoved the heavy metal door open.
I stepped outside. The pulsating sounds of the club still buzzed in my ears, and it took me a second to adjust to the silence of the narrow alley. I paused to orient myself and turned left toward what I thought was the way to the main street and the subway.
As I made my way through the darkened passage, a couple in a shadowy corner caught my eye. I quickly walked past them since by the sounds of it, there was some major hooking up going on. My heels clicked noisily on the cement as I sped by their hidden alcove with my head down. Please don’t notice me.
Finally past, I let out a relieved breath and slowed. Just ahead was the sign for the red number 2 line. I headed toward it.
A guttural scream echoed from the alley. I whipped my head around. Where had the couple gone? I hesitated, then I doubled back toward their murky nook, walking as silently as possible. I turned the corner. The guy was backed against the factory wall, his face contorted in an odd expression and the girl was going to town on his neck. She must have heard me and spun her auburn head my way. Her pretty little mouth was completely covered in blood. What the hell? I bit down on my lip, refusing to scream.
“Get out of here!” she hissed.
No problem. I turned and ran, cursing myself for being such a Good Samaritan and going back in the first place. As I flew around the corner like a bat out of hell, I smacked into a very hard body.
“Watch it!” I yelled without looking up.
“You’re the one that nearly knocked me over,�
� answered a vaguely familiar voice.
I took a step back. “Cosmo guy?”
“Damian.”
“Right.” I glanced back to make sure I wasn’t being followed by that psycho chick before turning to him once again. “Listen, there’s some crazy stuff going on back there. I swear I just saw some girl biting a guy in the alley.”
His steel gray eyes widened. “What do you mean, biting?”
“I have no idea, but there was blood. Lots of blood. Maybe it’s some sort of new kinky thing or something, but that girl freaked me out.”
He glanced to where I had pointed and furrowed his thick eyebrows. He didn’t seem fazed at all. Instead, a look of annoyance crossed his handsome face.
“Are you by yourself?” He turned back to me. “Do you need a ride home?”
A ride back to the city in a car instead of the gross subway sounded amazing, but my survival instincts were yelling at me to reconsider his proposition. I eyed him up and down and contemplated the likelihood of me being able to take the guy if things went south. He was tall, definitely six feet at least, and while he wasn’t meathead muscle-bound, his defined biceps strained through his long sleeve button-down shirt. “I’m taking the subway,” I said finally, purposely avoiding his first question about being alone.
“Where do you live?”
“Upper West side.” No need to give him specifics.
He eyed me like I was some sort of scared animal he was trying to pet for the first time. “Let me at least walk you to the subway then.”
“Okay,” I conceded. Though I would never admit it, that weird girl did have me a little frazzled. What was that anyway—an episode of The Walking Dead?
We turned toward the number 2 line, which was just a little over a block away. And there was silence. Like really awkward silence. When I thought I couldn’t take another second of it, he finally spoke.
“So what happened to your best friend?”
“He met up with some guy and sold me out.”
He arched a brow and frowned. “That’s not cool.”
I shrugged. To be honest, it happened all the time. I loved Ricky like a brother but he was a huge flirt and had more boyfriends than I could count. “No biggie.”
“Hold on a sec. I need to get something out of my car.” He paused in front of a super sporty vehicle.
I didn’t know what kind it was—Ferrari, Lamborghini? All I knew was it had to be expensive. “That’s your car?” It really annoyed me how my voice went up a notch.
“Yeah.” He walked up to it, and the door opened automatically. He bent down, grabbed something from inside and slid it into his back pocket.
Alarms went off in my head as I imagined a knife stuffed into his pants. I took a step back as he locked the car and approached me. My face must have given me away because he stopped immediately.
“What’s the matter?”
“Don’t come any closer.” I tried to keep my voice calm.
“What are you talking about?” He took a step toward me.
I shoved my hand in my purse and pulled out my pocketknife then held it out, my knuckles white from gripping it so hard. “I don’t know what you just put in your pocket, but you’re not going to get a chance to use it.”
A throaty laugh escaped Damian’s mouth as his gray eyes twinkled under the dim streetlight. “Promise you won’t stab me, and I’ll show you my cell phone.”
I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as he slowly pulled the phone from his back pocket.
“I thought I’d try to get your number again.”
I don’t know why I did it, but I pulled a stick of gum from my purse and scribbled the phone number to Thanks-A-Latte on it. I threw it to him with a self-deprecating smile. “Thanks for the drink. Call me if you ever want to buy me another one.” Without looking back, I hurried down the steps to the subway.
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Acknowledgements
A special thank you to my loving and supportive husband who always understood my need for escaping into a good book (or TV show!). He inspires me to try harder and push further every day. And of course my mother who is the guiding force behind everything I do and made me everything I am today. And to my father who will always live on in my dreams.
A huge thank you to everyone that had a hand in the creation of the final book in the series. I could not have done it without you! To Robin Wiley, the first person to read all of the Wilder books, you’ve been Celeste’s biggest supporter from day one. I don’t think I would have gone forward if it wasn’t for your constant encouragement. It means the world to me. To my dearest and oldest friend Dorothee Leiser who spent hours reviewing my first manuscript and who is always there to listen or act as a cover proofer! To my awesome friend Chelsea Ferruggia who came with me on a “research trip” to an unnamed convention and for her tireless PR efforts! A big thank you to my editor, Sarah Tyrrell, who has fully immersed herself in the Wilder world and has provided me with encouragement and fool proof editing since day one. And my incredibly talented graphic designer, Masa Licinia, for creating yet another beautiful book cover. Finally a special thank you to my dedicated beta readers who gave me great ideas, caught spelling errors, and were all around amazing.
Thank you to all my friends, family, former co-workers and new indie author friends who let me bounce ideas off of them and listened to my struggles as a first time author and self-publisher. I appreciate it more than you all will ever know.
Author Biography
G.K. De Rosa has been an avid reader from a very young age. At the precocious age of two, while living in Italy, she had memorized an entire children’s book in Italian and expertly turned the pages at the exact right moments of the story. As she grew up, she always enjoyed literature, no doubt having been instilled with a love of story telling from her early years in Catholic school where she was greatly influenced by exemplary teachers who taught her the value of English and Literature. Though she did not pursue writing in college and instead went for the more traditional route of International Business inspired by her love for travel and all things foreign, after a move to New York City, she found her creative writing side calling once again. She began writing a restaurant review blog, City Lights and Tasty Bites, detailing her other passion – food! The hectic hustle and bustle of the city, combined with long commuting times gave her the opportunity to spend more time reading and rekindled a lost love. After reading countless books in many diverse genres over the two years in New York City, and returning to her home state of Florida, she felt compelled to write something for herself. She had always felt particularly drawn to Young Adult novels and having been an eternal romantic at heart, a fantasy romance was a natural choice. She currently lives in South Florida with her real life Prince Charming, their new baby and their fur baby, Nico the German shepherd.
Contact me:
Website: www.wilderbook.com
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: www.facebook.com/wilderbookseries
Twitter: @vampgirl923 or for Celeste @CelesteWilder18
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