A Crazy Little Thing Called Love (Serendipitous Love Book 1)
Page 3
That’s what you get for sending suggestive messages.
I placed the phone on my bedside table, opting to let the exchange remain ambiguous. Innocent or not, I was sure that eventually, the intentions would become clear.
His, and my own.
Don’t be boring.
I can’t remember where I saw that quote, which in full was a directive to “look cute and don’t be boring”, but it really resonated with me. I had the “look cute” part down. Don’t be boring… eh. Not so much.
I called myself being daring when I got my back length hair chopped into the trendy bob I currently wore, but that only succeeded in adding time to my morning routine, since I couldn’t throw it into a ponytail anymore. A hairstyle wasn’t exactly the key to any type of spiritual awakening… at least not when I was failing so miserably at my mantra.
Don’t be boring.
Hmph. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been on a real date in more than six months, and hadn’t had sex in even longer. My get-togethers with friends consisted of tagging along on play dates, and while I loved kids, developing tennis elbow from incessant swinging in the hot sun at the park wasn’t really my idea of a good time.
I laid back on my bed, thinking about the night before. The thumping music, smoky air, enticing aromas, and good company had all been invigorating in a way I’d never felt, especially not when I was partying in hot, smelly hip-hop clubs in my early twenties. The vibe at Urban Grind had been different… cool, and laid back. Fun.
Fun.
That was exactly what I needed, a little fun. To actually follow my mantra, and not be boring. I’d spent my self-imposed Saturday off lounging, instead of going out to do something, but that didn’t mean my Saturday night had to be wasted. As if it could sense exactly what I needed, my music system shifted and I cranked it up, blasting lyrics about seeking something sexy and new. I climbed out of the bed, flinging my closet open to find something to wear. My eyes landed on a pretty multi-colored tribal print sundress, with the tags still on it.
I’d been too lazy to even get myself dressed after my shower earlier, so I simply dropped my robe and put on panties before pulling the sexy dress over my head. Satisfied with the fit, I sat down in front of the mirror to groom my pitiful eyebrows, then applied a little mascara, liner, and gloss to complete my face. I combed my hair down from my wrap, styling it to frame my face in layers as the singer crooned rebellious words of breaking free from chains.
“Breaking chains indeed,” I whispered to my myself in my full-length mirror, pleased with what I saw after slipping my feet into killer shoes I would definitely not be wearing to make the walk to Urban Grind. I called a car service, even though it was only a few blocks. If India were here helping me get ready, she would have forbid me to do otherwise. While I waited, I lotioned and perfumed my skin, hoping that if I ended dancing close with someone sexy — Roman, to be specific — they’d be in for a nice little treat.
— & —
It was a little after ten when I walked through the doors of Urban Grind. It was a less crowded than the night before, but I was pleased to see the vibe was mostly the same. There was no live band tonight, but the floor was still crowded with people up on their feet, bobbing their heads to an eclectic blend of hip hop, soul, and r&b artists.
I spotted Roman before he spotted me. He was behind the counter, taking orders as he laughed and joked with the short line of customers. I joined the queue, pretending not to notice him as I scanned the listed menu of alcohol-infused drinks. By the time it was my turn to order, I’d been so busy ignoring him I didn’t realize Roman was no longer behind the counter.
“I’ll have… your frozen mudslide,” I said, pushing out a heavy sigh as I took a seat on one of the high leather barstools. I watched as the friendly barista prepared it, then delivered it to me with a smile. I extended my debit card to her to pay, but a large, warm hand covered mine, tucking the piece of hard plastic back into my palm.
“Your money’s not any good here.” Roman’s deep, warm voice carried over the music and into my ears, sending a familiar tingle over my skin as he slid onto the bar stool beside me.
I shrugged, then placed the card back in my wallet as I turned on my stool to face him. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” I laughed. Our eyes met, and instead of answering my natural inclination to look away, I smiled as I brought my straw to my lips to take a sip from my drink. “Mmm! This is amazing,” I said, when I was finally able to pull myself away from the cold chocolate drink.
Before he spoke, Roman leaned close so I could hear him over the music. “Yeah… we make the coffee liqueur ourselves, none of that watered down commercial stuff. When you use high quality rum, high quality beans, and high quality vanilla, you get high quality liqueur… and high quality drinks.”
I nodded, turning the straw between my fingers as I took another drink. “Well, the difference certainly shows. Your passion for all of this is remarkable. It’s… sexy.”
“Is that right?” Roman asked, grinning as he lifted an eyebrow.
Instead of answering, I occupied my mouth with another long pull from my drink. I could barely believe I’d allowed such a bold flirtation out of the safe confines of my thoughts, so there was no way I was about to consciously offer any follow-up.
Roman laughed at my avoidance of his question. “So now you’re shy?”
“Yes, actually,” I said, placing my nearly empty cup on the counter. “I am.”
Shaking his head, Roman turned to rest his elbows on the bar, but kept his eyes on me. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why not?”
“Because I haven’t seen that. Yesterday in your store, you talked to Davis like he was an old friend. Last night, you agreed to come here with me. When you got here, you were grooving as soon as you hit the door, and you seemed to hit it off with Vivienne and Eddie. Where’s the shyness?”
I shrugged. “I…”
Hmm.
So maybe he had a point. Once I got serious about school, I morphed into an introvert, with a mostly single-minded focus on finishing those degrees. After that, I never did really break out of that shell. Even on those dreaded play dates and suburban dinner parties with people I distantly considered friends, I retreated into myself, putting on my “I’m trying to pretend I don’t hate everything about this” face. Customers and clients got my pleasant, professional face. The general public got my resting bitch face. Apparently, the part of me that didn’t need a mask was ready to come out and play.
“I think maybe you’re not shy at all. You just need the right people to bring the fun out of you.”
I raked a hand through my hair, pushing it away from my face before propping my elbows on the bar. “I don’t know. Maybe so.”
He inclined his head toward mine. “So… I was here this morning and was disappointed I didn’t see you. I hoped I’d converted you from that Keurig crap.”
Laughing, I shook my head. “Actually, I didn’t have coffee this morning at all. I was out of my pods and didn’t feel like leaving the house, so I skipped it.”
“You could have called… shot me a text. I would have taken care of it for you.”
“Oh, so you’re doing home deliveries of coffee now?” I asked, biting the inside of my lip to keep a silly grin from spreading across my face.
The corners of his mouth tipped up in a sexy smirk that sent a warm, familiar tingle over my skin. “For you, I—”
“Roman!”
Roman’s jaw tightened, and he gave an exasperated sigh as he turned toward the source of interruption. A young guy wearing an Urban Grind tee-shirt was standing behind us, rubbing at his hands in obvious distress.
“What is it, man?” Roman asked, irritation edging his voice.
“Uh… there’s kind of a situation in the back.”
“I’ll be there in a second.” Roman nodded once, then turned back to me.
“It’s kind of an emergency.”
With a frustrated g
roan, Roman stood. “Don’t leave. I’ll be right back. We’ve got some stuff to talk about,” he said, flashing me a smile as he turned to follow his employee to the back of the shop.
When he was gone, I exhaled a deep breath, allowing myself to breathe freely for the first time since he’d sat down beside me. I’d made it a whole ten minutes without embarrassing myself. Finishing my drink, I looked around the room for the familiar faces of Vivienne or Eddie to pass the time. I didn't see either of them then, but ten minutes later, Eddie was tapping me on the shoulder.
“So I see you came back for some… coffee,” he said, smirking as he sat down beside me. “I’m guessing you and Roman hit it off?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really know what to say about that.”
Eddie waved to get the attention of one of the bartenders. “Give us a couple of Dark Moons.”
“Us?”
He gave my empty mudslide glass a reproachful look. “Yes, us. You can’t sit at the bar with me with that little girly drink. Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”
I eyed the swirling combination of ice cubes, cold coffee, cream, and bourbon skeptically, but followed Eddie’s lead when he slammed it back in one gulp.
“Okay,” he said, giving me a nod of approval. “Now let’s dance.”
Eddie pulled me onto the dance floor and kept me there until we started to sweat. We headed back to the bar for water and another round of drinks, then he dragged me back to the dance floor, then we repeated the process again. It was fun until I started to feel lightheaded and dizzy as the alcohol kicked into my system. I left him to find a seat at a comfortable, empty booth.
The most liquor I’d had in a long time was a couple of glasses of wine, usually over the span of a few hours. Three heavily poured drinks in less than an hour was way past my comfort zone.
So much for getting a little wild tonight, I thought, rolling my eyes. Maybe “wild” didn’t exactly fit for me. I lowered my head to the table in front of me, and the next time I opened my eyes, it was because Roman was kneeling beside me, gently shaking my shoulder as he repeated my name.
I quickly sat up, shaking my head in an attempt to clear away the fog.
“What’s going on? Are you feeling okay?” he asked, with his eyebrows drawn together in concern.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine, just… had a little too much to drink. I’m good, really.” He stood as I slid sideways in the booth, taking a step back to give me room to get out. As soon I was on my feet, the sensation that the floor was spiraling had me wobbling on my heels.
“You don’t seem fine to me. Let’s get you home.”
I didn’t protest, but my cheeks were hot with shame as he put an arm around my waist to keep me steady as we headed through the crowd of people. He took me into his delicious-smelling office, decorated in dark wood tones and leather, depositing me on a sofa while he called a car service for me.
“You know, I have to say… I rarely see people actually get drunk in here. I’m surprised,” he said, eyeing me with interest as he sat down on the corner of his desk.
I shook my head. “Getting drunk is so not my thing. It’s been a really long time, and I guess my tolerance has… disappeared, or something. Eddie had me—”
Roman interrupted me with a shout of laughter. “Eddie? You were drinking with Eddie? Simone… no.” He paused to chuckle. “Eddie’s liver is made of steel. For future reference, never drink with Eddie. You can drink around him, but with? Don’t do that to yourself.”
“I wish someone had warned me before, because I’m starting to get the headache from hell.”
“Well,” Roman said, standing up. “The car is probably here now, so you’ll be able to get home and sleep it off. Come on.” He held out a hand to help me up and I accepted it, trying my best to ignore the electric buzz passing between us, even in my semi-drunken state.
I was still disoriented enough that he had to help me out, so I wasn’t surprised when Roman climbed into the car with me, but I rolled my eyes when he reached over me to secure my seatbelt. “Really?”
“Really. You came to my place and got intoxicated, the least I can do is get you home safe.”
I smiled. “First you offer to bring me coffee in the morning, and now I’m getting personal escort services. I’m starting to think you have an ulterior motive, Roman.”
He shrugged, flashing me with his dimple-inducing grin. “Nah, I do this for all of the gorgeous flower shop owners on the block.”
“Oh please,” I said blushing. “I’m sure I’m pretty far removed from gorgeous right now, after falling asleep at a table — a public table, mind you. While the people around me partied. I’m about 99% positive I look a damned mess.”
Roman sucked his teeth. “Simone, are you serious? You’re bad as hell. Especially in that dress.”
His eyes flickered down my exposed thighs, and I self-consciously attempted to pull my dress down for cover. I managed about an inch before I started laughing at myself. Glancing out of the window, I noticed we weren’t moving. “Are we gonna sit here all night?”
“Yeah, if you don’t tell the driver where you live.”
I cut my eyes at him, then leaned forward to give the driver my address. I didn’t even care about Roman knowing where I lived anymore. My headache was building in intensity, and I was ready to get my backside into bed. Seconds later, we were moving, and I looked over to Roman, buckled in the seat beside me. “What’s your last name?” I asked, nudging his shoulder.
“Taylor. Why?”
“So I can text my friend your name and my last known location in case you decide to try something.”
Roman chuckled. “Okay, that’s fair. What’s yours?”
“Owens. Why?”
“Same reason as you. How do I know you’re not gonna drug me or something? Make me do all your housework and bring you coffee? You’re probably not even really drunk.”
“I’m not,” I said, laughing. “Tipsy, maybe. My brain is working fine, I just feel a little… wobbly or something. Walking and standing don’t seem to be working out so well.”
“Is that your way of telling me you need me to help you get to your door?”
“I’m sure the driver wouldn’t mind giving me a little assistance.”
Roman frowned, then leaned close to speak quietly. “Hell no. Do you see that guy? He’s probably got a couple of bodies in the trunk right now.”
I laughed, but it was shaky, nervous laughter. His breath was warm and sweet against my neck, eliciting a bodily reaction I wanted to blame on the alcohol, but who was I kidding? Roman was smart, sexy, and as far as I could tell, sweet. His breath on my skin would have given me damp panties and hard nipples on even the most sedated of sober days.
The cab pulled to a stop, and I obliged Roman’s request to wait for him to help me out. My temples were already throbbing. I didn’t see a need to risk tumbling out of the car, creating an additional ailment. When we were out, Roman sent the car away, reminding me that his apartment was only a few blocks over. It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed behind us that I began to feel a little apprehensive about the situation. He was keeping a respectful distance from me, not touching me unless necessary, but still. I’d known his last name for all of five minutes, yet here I was, showing him exactly where I lived, as if I weren’t a single woman in a big city.
I’ve lost my damned mind, I thought, slipping my hand into my bag for my keys. I pulled them out, positioning my fingers around my portable can of mace. Just to be safe.
“I feel bad,” Roman said as we stepped off of the elevator and headed toward my apartment. “If I hadn’t left you at the bar, Eddie wouldn’t have gotten ahold of you. Maybe we could have spent a little more time together tonight.”
I smiled. “Yeah, you did kind of abandon me. But, duty calls. And you didn’t have to be mean to your employee like that.”
“Was I mean?”
“Um, maybe just a little,”
I said with a grimace. “You seemed pretty agitated.”
Roman shook his head, releasing my arm as we stopped in front of my door. “I didn’t mean for it to be obvious like that, but seriously… It’s almost as if they can sense when I’m relaxed, so they’re like “What ridiculous issue can I exaggerate to give Roman something to do?”. Today has been a non-stop stream of that.”
“Aww, it seemed like they had a real emergency though.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Roman said, “You wanna know what the big deal was? That fool had gotten his sweater caught in the air roaster. I still don’t even understand how it happened. Or why the hell he had on a sweater anyway. It’s summer!”
I laughed as I pushed my key into the lock. “Well, I do see how that could get annoying.”
“Yeah. Well… I’m not gonna hold you up. You go ahead and get inside to sleep this off so you can feel better. And maybe in the morning… I don’t know, since you said you’re out of coffee anyway… you can come have a cup at the shop with me. We’ll share a cinnamon roll or something.”
“Share?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.
“Okay, you can have your own cinnamon roll. Are you gonna come?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Roman chuckled. “Fair enough. But, I really hope do you decide to stop by. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I said, giving him a slight nod. I watched him as he began down the hall, walking with a definitive swagger that reminded me of Eddie’s assessment that he was stepping around… himself.
My goodness.
Shaking my head, I turned to push open the door and walk in. Almost immediately, I tripped over my own feet, sending myself hurling to the floor with a shriek. “Shit!”
I turned myself over so my panties weren’t on display for anyone walking past my still-open door to see, and pulled into a seated position.
“Hey, are you okay?”