Not Just Another Romance Novel

by Lisa Suzanne

  Scott sighed as he held out his hand. He studied the words on my paper—my list of potential romance novel heroes.

  He snorted. “You think I know a biker?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know everyone in your contact list.”

  Shannon appeared and plopped down in the chair next to Scott. “What’s that?”

  “Piper’s list of potential dates for her project. Know anyone that fits? She wants us to set her up.”

  Shannon grabbed the list from Scott’s hand and scanned it. “What’s a DILF?”

  “A Dad I’d Like to Fuck.” I blushed as I said it.

  “That’s a thing?” Scott’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  “Yeah, it’s a thing.”

  “So go to a park and pick one up,” Shannon suggested, prompting a chuckle from Scott. She flipped her hair over her shoulder while Scott adjusted his glasses.

  Movement over by the reference stacks caught my eye. I glanced over and saw Austin’s head just over the top of a bookcase as he made his way over to our study table in the library.

  He hadn’t shaved, and that little bit of scruff looked pretty nice on him.

  An idea took shape in my mind. Or, more accurately, it hit me over the head as a brilliant thought.

  The friend.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized he could actually fill a couple of different stereotypical male leads in a book: the close friend, the study partner, the metrosexual male.

  And just watching the fluid way he strode across the library, the way his red shirt stretched across his broad chest, the way his strong arms swung with confidence at his sides, and the way his jeans hugged his hips…

  I immediately dismissed my brilliant thought. It was silly. Ridiculous, really. I couldn’t date Austin. It would just mess up our group dynamic and I’d never be able to concentrate when we had study sessions.

  Maybe toward the end of the project I’d revisit the idea, but I needed to focus on finding myself a billionaire or a CEO first. Or maybe a billionaire CEO. I was all about multi-tasking.

  “What’s that?” Austin asked, snatching my list out of Shannon’s hand.

  “The list for my research project. Do you know any men who fit my criteria?” I asked.

  He studied the list for a moment before handing it back to me. “I know a few.”

  Six eyes turned to Austin. “Who?” I asked.

  “I know a rock star. Well, kind of. He sings for a local band, but they’ve got a great following. I know several businessmen, but not any CEOs. I might be able to hook you up with one, though. And I know a few bars around here where your bad boys hang out.”

  My jaw dropped. Everyone has that one friend who knows everybody. Austin had lived in San Diego his entire life, so he knew the lay of the land.

  “Take me to your bars!” I practically yelled, garnering a glare from students studying nearby. “Sorry,” I whispered.

  “Wait a minute,” Shannon said. “I thought of a few you’re missing from your list.”

  A few I was missing? I thought I’d pretty much covered all the bases. “Who?”

  “You need a Fabio.” She stated it like it was obvious.

  “Like a cover model?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Sure. Or like a historical romance guy.”

  I laughed. Shannon could be a bit of an airhead sometimes. “Where am I going to find a historical romance guy? We’re in the present tense, Shannon.”

  “Duh. Renaissance Festival. And Austin, you seem to know everybody else. Do you know any vampires?”

  Laughter bubbled up from my chest. I couldn’t help when it spilled out, and when I looked over at Austin and Scott, I found a similar reaction. Shannon stared at us blankly.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Vampires?” I asked through my giggles.

  “They’re in all the books,” she clarified, only spurring on our laughter. Her brows came together in anger.

  My giggles turned into those silent quaking convulsions I couldn’t possibly control. Scott held up his hand as if to tell Shannon to stop while he laughed, and Austin clutched his stomach from the hilarity.

  We’d stop for a minute only to glance at one or the other, and then we’d start back up again, garnering more glares from students near us.

  Our laughing had to have gone on for at least a full five minutes before we were composed enough to talk about it.

  “What?” Shannon finally asked in frustration.

  Austin gave Shannon a very serious look while I stifled another wave of giggles. Scott had to excuse himself after a less than flattering snort.

  “Vampires aren’t real,” Austin finally said.

  “Well, you need a paranormal,” Shannon said, her voice both irritated and completely serious. “How about a werewolf?”

  After that comment, it was my turn to excuse myself after a less than flattering snort.

  *

  Dr. Prestbury had initiated weekly Round Robin meetings, and the four of us always met a day or two before we were scheduled to meet with him in order to ensure we were ready. He gave us weekly goals to accomplish based on our personal projects, and it always helped to discuss with peers before his intimidating dark eyes landed on us in our very formal and daunting meetings.

  We talked Austin through his research project, discussed which databases would have the best research options for Scott’s project, and helped Shannon focus in on specific age groups.

  And then we were back to me.

  “Piper, you need to see if this is going to work before we meet with Dr. Prestbury tomorrow,” Austin said.

  I nodded, suddenly nervous about actually implementing my plan. “I need to go on a date tonight, then. I need to see if this has any chance of working before I present it.” Shannon nodded in agreement. Scott stared down at his paper, lost in thought about his own project.

  I sighed and directed my attention to Austin. “Take me to your bad boy bar.”

  4

  I waved my hand in front of my face to fan the smoke away from me. Laws banned indoor smoking in California, but apparently that didn’t apply to seedy bars.

  Austin had taken me to the Lucky Lady, a bar in a part of San Diego I’d never had the pleasure of visiting. I’d curled my hair, wore my lowest cut white shirt and paired it with my tightest jeans and tallest heels, and caked on the make-up.

  I realized hanging out with an attractive man would interfere with my chances of meeting my bad boy, so I told Austin to beat it once we were at the bar. I settled into a lone stool across from the bartender, who had his back turned to me, while Austin found a table in a corner to keep an eye on me.

  I glanced around at the clientele and saw mostly mid-to-late twenty-something locals. Not many graduate students frequented this part of town.

  The girls wore fairly trashy outfits—mostly skin-tight, ridiculously short dresses. The men wore jeans and black t-shirts. It was like some sort of unspoken uniform.

  I glanced back at Austin. He stared at me from his corner booth with amusement.

  “What can I get you, doll?” The smooth, velvety voice called my attention from Austin.

  I turned to the bartender and completely lost my train of thought.

  Hot damn, the bartender was an alpha bad boy if I’d ever seen one.

  Tattoos lined the strong arms that stretched the short-sleeves of his black, v-neck shirt. He held a pint glass in his hands, and my eyes were drawn to the long fingers and masculine hands.

  I’d never used the word “virile” to describe a man before, but the word fit him exactly.

  My eyes flew up to his. His were so dark brown they were almost black, and they were staring back at me with this unadulterated lust I’d never seen thrown my way.

  “Uh…erm…some tequila…” I finally stuttered.

  “Straight, rocks, or mixed with something?” His eyes burned into mine.

  Like I could answer a question with eyes like that focusing on
me. Seriously?

  Who did this guy think he was?

  “Whatever you recommend.”

  He leaned in close to me, like he wanted to share a secret with me. His eyes never left mine. “To be honest, doll, I’d never recommend tequila to a sweet girl like you.”

  I stared back at him, refusing to back down. In my mind, I knew I’d acquired my target. Now I just had to activate the flirty slut I knew existed somewhere inside of me. “I’m not so sweet.”

  “I bet you taste pretty sweet.” His voice rasped low and deep and every other romance novel adjective I’d ever read about.

  Who said shit like that?

  Right. Romance novel boys. Stereotypical bad boys.

  Boys who had a hard and fast one-night-only rule when it came to women.

  Well maybe I could be this guy’s one woman for the night.

  I took a deep breath.

  Get it together, Piper, I scolded myself. You have research to do. This is just a job.

  “I sure do,” I said with my sweetest, most flirtatious voice.

  He grinned at me and backed away, pulling a smaller tumbler glass out from under the bar. He filled it with ice and then poured a generous helping of clear liquid from a glass bottle with a green ribbon on it. I squinted to read the bottle while he placed a cork in the top, and then he set it back on its perch behind the bar.

  Patron.

  He set the glass in front of me. “This one’s on me. Just take it slow, doll.”

  It was his third “doll” in our twenty second conversation. I really should have been taking notes. I’d never be able to use this research if I drank Patron. More than one glass and I’d be toast. I’d always stuck to cheap tequila when I mixed my margaritas. I had no idea what I was getting into here.

  Sexy Bad Boy Bartender turned back to the bar and keyed in some numbers. A drawer popped open and he closed it, and then he moved across the bar to make drinks and wait on other customers.

  I took a sip of my Patron. It tasted like tequila for sure, but it didn’t have the same bite back the cheap ones did. My gaze moved back to Austin. Some guy had slid in the booth across from him, and it seemed like they knew one another. Austin was laughing at something his friend said while I sat at the bar alone like a loser.

  When I turned back around, the bartender’s eyes were on me. His eyes followed my line of sight to Austin, and then he looked back at me. He shot me this smoldering look for a few seconds before he returned his attention to his work.

  I quivered.

  I wished I had a girlfriend with me. This would be so much easier with someone to talk to while my target did his job. I’d thought about inviting Shannon, but she was gorgeous. I didn’t want the attention on her. That would compromise my project.

  Studying nearly full-time for my master’s degree didn’t leave a lot of room for friendships apart from my study group. After we’d graduated with our undergraduate degrees, most of my friends scattered. Some went to LA, others moved back home with their parents, and a couple moved to Texas. But none of them stayed in the San Diego area, so there weren’t a lot of options for me when I wanted to troll a bar for a hot alpha bad boy.

  I thought about pulling my phone out of my bag just so I had something to do, but it seemed to defeat my purpose.

  So I sipped my tequila faster than I should have and smiled every single time the bartender’s eyes met mine…which seemed to be fairly often.

  He was definitely interested.

  I decided I would have to step up my game.

  “So, Mr. Bartender, what should I call you?” I asked innocently the next time he came my way.

  “Mr. Bartender is just fine. How’s your tequila?” He glanced down at my nearly-empty glass with a mild look of surprise.

  I looked down at my glass and then lifted my eyes to look at him from lowered lashes. I went for demure, but I was certain I just looked like a fool. “Delicious. I want more.” I attempted breathlessness, but I probably sounded like I was panting.

  He did that thing where he leaned in close to me again, and I was pretty sure that now I actually was panting.

  “And I’d love to give you more, doll.” He winked at me, and then he turned to pull down the bottle of Patron. He filled my glass with about the same amount as the first round.

  Oh God, was my flirting somehow working?

  A female bartender made her way over to my target, and I watched as she smacked my hot alpha bad boy on the ass. “Stone, I got your back tonight.”

  Stone? His name was Stone?

  “Thanks, Kitty.”

  Kitty? Her name was Kitty?

  Was I living in some alternate universe?

  “Your name’s Stone?” I blurted.

  He laughed. Heartily. Apparently at my expense. “Well, yeah. My last name.”

  “First?”

  He leaned in close again. God. Every time he did that, tingles ran from my throat to my toes and back up again. He grinned, and then he moved close enough to me that the spice from his cologne filled my senses.

  He whispered barely loud enough for me to hear over the din of the now-crowded bar. He glanced down at his watch, momentarily distracting me with its extravagance. “Maybe we can go somewhere after I close this place down tonight and I’ll tell you right before I make you scream it.”

  Holy.

  Mother.

  Fuck.

  I cleared my throat. “And her name’s Kitty?” I asked, my voice a high-pitched squeak.

  He chuckled and then shook his head just as I put my lips to my glass to take a sip of tequila. “No. It’s a nickname she gave herself because her pussy’s open to anyone who wants it.”

  Needless to say, I shouldn’t have had a mouthful of tequila when he answered my question. Instead of swallowing it like a normal human being, I spit it out all over the bar at his vulgar description of his colleague’s nickname.

  He was all bad boy, and apparently I was all good girl.

  He roared with laughter while he wiped up the tequila all over the bar in front of me with a rag. As he moved away to help some other customers, I really couldn’t help but wonder if she’d opened her legs for him. I brushed the thought away. It didn’t matter, anyway. I’d managed to snag the interest of a bad boy. My intentions with him didn’t go beyond the night.

  It may have been nice to think about my mother’s trite advice about things that seemed too good to be true, but in the moment, I hadn’t. Instead, I went on living a book-worthy moment while my eyes met Stone’s from across the bar.

  I sipped my Patron, wondering what the next step was, and then a presence slipped into the barstool next to mine.

  “Hey, gorgeous.” His voice was deep and masculine. “You new around here?” I turned in his direction as he spoke. His voice matched his features.

  And when our eyes met, my breath caught in my throat.

  He had these clear, jarring, blue eyes that seemed like they were staring right through me. He was ruggedly handsome, muscular in a sexy way, not in a hulky way. He (predictably) wore a black shirt and jeans with work boots. He smiled at me, revealing straight, white teeth. My eyes moved from his full lips back up to his eyes.

  “I’m a student at SDSU,” I said, my voice shakier than I would’ve preferred.

  Shit. I’d already acquired my target. This second, just-as-hot-as-the-first, bad boy was going to get in the way.

  Unless I went home with him instead of the bartender. There was always that possibility.

  I laughed internally at myself. Yeah, like I could handle two bad boys.

  “I’d love to buy you a drink…” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows as if asking me my name.

  “Piper,” I filled in. “And I’d love one.”

  Right. Because three glasses of straight Patron was a fantastic idea.

  “Piper. Nice to meet you. I’m Ryker.”

  “That’s an unusual name.”

  He grinned. “My parents were hippies.”

&
nbsp; I giggled as he waved Stone over. When Stone’s eyes met mine, I sensed a bit of a storm brewing. It had to be a figment of my imagination. Stone was making a drink, and he nodded toward Ryker while we made small talk.

  “Do you come here a lot?” I asked.

  He nodded toward Stone. “I’ve known the owner for a while.”

  So Stone owned this bar? That was an interesting bit of information on my bad boy. He finished serving the customer on the other side of the bar, and then he made his way over to us.

  “The usual?” Stone asked Ryker, his eyes sliding back toward me.

  Ryker nodded. “Plus whatever Piper wants.”

  “I’ve been taking care of Piper,” Stone said.

  Ryker immediately jumped on the defense. “I figured a gorgeous woman like her shouldn’t be sitting alone.”

  “Hands off.” Stone’s voice had taken on a hard edge, and I was momentarily confused about what was happening.

  It became all too clear when Ryker turned to me.

  “Are you with Stone?” he asked me.

  “I just met him,” I admitted, my voice small.

  That may have been the wrong answer.

  Stone stormed angrily away to serve a new customer who sat at the bar. I watched the set of his shoulders. He was tense. Ryker had flipped his switch, and I sort of wanted to go back to when it had just been some heavy flirting between Stone and me.

  I was treading into unknown and dangerous territory, but I had to see it through. I had to get my bad boy research.

  Kitty made her way over. “Leave him alone,” she said to Ryker, her voice tough as nails.

  “Why should I?”

  I watched the exchange silently.

  She leaned in closer to him. She looked venomously at him. “Because you always do this, Ryk. You get him all riled up and angry and then you leave and I’m the one who has to deal with the fallout. Let him have his moment with this one.” She jabbed her thumb in my direction.

  I wasn’t really all that sure I wanted him to have a moment with me anymore.

  “Whatever,” Ryker replied, his eyes focused just beyond Kitty.

  She stormed away as well, and that little exchange told me what I needed to know. Obviously Ryker and Stone had a history when it came to women, and I probably wasn’t the right girl to get caught up in their mess.