First Impressions Series (1-2)
Page 1
First Impressions
Series
Book 1: First Impressions (ZIA)
Book 2: Second Thoughts (DYLAN)
By Nicole R. Locker
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 Nicole Locker
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1539836533
ISBN-13: 978-1539836537
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Rogue, who taught me joy, bravery, strength, peace, happiness, and above all, love. Without you, my life would not have been the same.
In loving memory – 2006-2016
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to acknowledge Swati Hegde for editing both First Impressions and Second Thoughts. Thank you to my Beta-Readers who help me improve and keep me on my toes. The cover design for this series edition was created by Nicole R. Locker using Canva.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1: ZIA
CHAPTER 1: DYLAN
CHAPTER 2: ZIA
CHAPTER 2: DYLAN
CHAPTER 3: ZIA
CHAPTER 3: DYLAN
CHAPTER 4: ZIA
CHAPTER 4: DYLAN
CHAPTER 5: ZIA
CHAPTER 5: DYLAN
CHAPTER 6: ZIA
CHAPTER 6: DYLAN
CHAPTER 7: ZIA
CHAPTER 7: DYLAN
CHAPTER 8: ZIA
CHAPTER 8: DYLAN
CHAPTER 9: ZIA
CHAPTER 9: DYLAN
CHAPTER 10: ZIA
CHAPTER 10: DYLAN
CHAPTER 11: ZIA
CHAPTER 11: DYLAN
EPILOGUE: ZIA
CHAPTER 1: ZIA
Cigarette smoke. I had never understood what young people thought was so sexy about smoking cigarettes. Personally, I found everything about the habit disgusting. Yet, here I was, sitting in this smoke alley of a beer joint, the music playing just a little too loud, almost resentful that Clara had somehow convinced me to join her at the Book Shelf for the third Saturday in a row.
Almost.
Clara Kincade. My BFF and roommate, with her long, blonde, wavy hair, glittery dark-blue eyes, curves every man would dream about, and a very outgoing personality. She could have been described as my polar opposite in some ways; me with my long, dark hair, light blue eyes, and deep seated introversion.
Clara was beautiful, outgoing, friendly, and flirtatious. The best way to describe Clara was boy crazy. Not to mention the fact that she was not at all the clingy type. Just the type of companion most of these drunken guys were looking for at the end of the night; although she really just stuck to a few regulars to play out her sexual escapades. At least she loved the attention.
Clara loved the local college town hangout, the Book Shelf.
I had to admit, it was ingenious to give a bar a name that sounded like a place students went to study. I’m sure it helped when all these college students’ parents looked at their credit card bills and found how much “studying” and “coffee” drinking their kids were doing. The liquor shelves behind the bar actually had some dusty old books on them.
I on the other hand, had a whole different outlook than Clara, with a very different idea of fun, I supposed. That didn’t stop her from insisting I come out with her most weekends, so I tried to make the most of it.
“Zia, there’s a table! You go grab it and I’ll order us some drinks at the bar. Marco is bartending tonight.” Clara got that mischievous look on her face when she mentioned Marco, and turned to make her way through the crowd of tables and people standing talking in the walkways before squeezing in between a couple of guys at the bar counter.
I made my way to the tall pub table that Clara had pointed to, waited as the bleached-blonde waitress cleared off the remnants of debauchery the people left before us, and finally I climbed into the tall chair. I sat in the seat nearest the wall and looked around the room, watching the people at the tables around me.
This was what I usually did - people-watch. I guess it was only appropriate that I chose to major in psychology at the university that Clara and I were both attending, as I had quite an interest in the way people behaved.
I supposed this was why the idea of sitting here with Clara weekend after weekend wasn’t entirely repulsive. There was always something – or rather, someone – interesting to watch. Girls who cheated on their boyfriends with the boyfriends’ best friends; guys who were pissed seeing their ex-girlfriends out with new guys; girls who got too drunk and suddenly turned bi-curious; guys who started fights over the same girl they both just met; girls trying way too hard to get noticed by guys who wouldn’t remember their names the next day. The usual.
Clara walked over to claim her chair across from mine and handed me a tall rum and diet coke with a lime wedge. I liked to keep it simple, and I liked that Clara got that about me. She had a large frosty schooner of light beer for herself. She was classy, but down to earth.
“How’s Marco?” I took a sip from my drink and initiated the small talk.
“He invited us to his friend’s apartment after he gets off tonight. I told him we’d have to see. You never know how the night will end up!” Clara had a particular way she liked to de-stress, and after the last of our midterms this week, she had every intention of de-stressing to the full extent tonight.
“Sounds like a blast.” I couldn’t even manage to fake enthusiasm. I didn’t care much for the bar scene, but I cared even less for house parties with people I didn’t know.
“I think Becker will be there. I think you’ll like him, Zia. You should give him a chance. I know you hate it when I try to play matchmaker with you, but you could at least give it a shot. He could be a pretty nice guy. He’s definitely hot.” Clara seemed to think that because it had been several months since I’d dated anyone, and much longer than that with anyone serious, I needed her help in the romance department. I knew she meant well.
“Ohhh, Clara, you really don’t need to try to set me up. I don’t need any help. I’m just not in a hurry, you know? I’m too happy being alone to feel the need to settle for some ‘Mr. Right Now,’ you know what I mean?” I tried to explain this to her for the millionth time. “But if you really want to go, I’ll go with you.”
“We’ll see. Ooh, I saw Motorcycle Guy here on my way back from the bar. He was a couple of tables behind us, looking so hot in those ripped up jeans. Do you see him?”
We had seen Motorcycle Guy in here several times, but usually in passing. Of course Clara would be attracted to a bad-boy type who looked all rough and tough and drove a motorcycle; hence the nickname.
I looked past Clara to see where he might be sitting, and just when I saw him, his eyes met mine. Apparently he’d had his eyes on our table as well, and he took the eye contact with me as the opening he’d apparently been waiting for.
“Oh yeah, he’s back there all right, but not for long,” I tried to be subtle.
A look of disappointment spread across Clara’s face for a moment, thinking he must be leaving. She turned around to look, just in time for Motorcycle Guy to walk up beside her and introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Cason. Mind if I join you for a drink?” He watched Clara, waiting for her response.
“Sure. I’m Clara, and this is my friend Zia. It’s nice to meet you, Cason.” Clara’s most charming smile returned as we made his acquaintance.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Cason replied with a slight nod.
I had to admit, Cason was an attractive guy, and j
ust Clara’s type. He was tall, about six feet two, standing a good six inches taller than Clara in the flats she wore tonight. He wore a tight-fitted black t-shirt that showed off his toned body, and of course there were the faded blue jeans that were worn in well and ripped in all the right places. He oozed sex appeal with his dark, messy hair and light-green eyes.
I listened and contributed as little as I could politely get by with, as Clara and Cason started getting to know one another. Then I excused myself saying I had to hit the ladies room to give them a little time alone. I’d be close by if Clara needed me, but it seemed like she was pretty into the conversation and he didn’t give me any creep vibes yet, so I wasn’t too worried about leaving her alone for a while.
Instead of going to the ladies room, I made my way up to the bar counter. Marco and another bartender, a pretty red-head with not much clothing covering her up, were pretty busy tonight as the Book Shelf was filled up to capacity. This was pretty usual for a Saturday night here.
I sat at a stool that opened up as I approached the end of the bar counter, and ordered myself another tall rum and diet coke, single shot. I had never cared for the bitter taste of alcohol or the feeling of losing control of myself being drunk, so I never let myself drink enough to get that way. I’d just drink enough to loosen up a little and enable myself to tolerate the loud music pulsing in my ears. I was usually more of a wine drinker, but this place didn’t exactly have the wine-drinking kind of atmosphere, much less that great of a wine selection.
From this vantage point, I was able to look around and people-watch a little bit. I considered myself lucky that most people were so wrapped up in their own lives that they never noticed people like me watching them, listening to them, making judgments about them.
Lucky for them, I was not a stalker or some kind of murderous psychopath.
Tonight nothing really stuck out for me. Just the same old thing you’d expect to see in a bar on a Saturday night. The more they drank, the louder they got. Girls all dressed up in their skimpy outfits and high heels they’d be stumbling in by the end of the night; guys buying one drink after another for the girls, hoping it would pay off for them before the night was over; several girls at one table apparently out for a girl’s night.
Finally, one table caught my interest. There were three guys, each one appearing abundantly confident. One of the guys seemed to be the pack leader, so to speak, as the other two guys seemed to take their cues from what he said or did. This guy was the most attractive of the three.
His hair was medium brown with light brown, almost caramel colored eyes to match. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt that hugged his lean, muscular upper body, the sleeves pulled casually up his forearm. His dark designer jeans showed off some thighs that undeniably took some work and dedication in the gym. He looked like he could model for Calvin Klein, or maybe he had.
His friends were attractive as well, but neither were quite the caliber of handsome as their pack leader. That guy had what you’d call panty dropper eyes.
What really stood out was how girls kept coming up to their table, as if to pay homage to a celebrity. Girls apparently flocked to these guys without them even having to try. I wondered what that was about, and thought how dumb the girls must be to throw themselves at guys like that.
Didn’t they know they should make the guys chase them? Men usually liked the chase. Not that these guys seemed to mind, as they seemed to ogle and gawk at the lovely specimens walking away, the two sidekicks more so than their leader.
I didn’t have much time to make any sense of their situation that I was secretly observing before I felt my cell phone buzzing in my back pocket. Clara had texted me:
Clara: Where u at? Ready 2 go?
I walked back over to the table I had left Clara and Cason at after paying out my tab. Cason was gone, and Clara stood up, looking as though she was ready to leave somewhere.
“Hey, Zia! Where’d you go? Cason had to leave but he asked me to hang out tomorrow night. Oh my God, isn’t he so hot? Anyway, I don’t really feel like sticking around here for the rest of the night now. Wanna go home and help me pick out what to wear tomorrow?”
How could I argue with an excuse to leave?
“Sure. Let’s go. I’ll see if I can get us a cab outside.”
I noticed on our way out the door that Pack Leader Guy had another girl talking to him, and from the way he leaned in as she spoke, it looked like she was the lucky winner who would go home with him tonight.
Poor fool.
CHAPTER 1: DYLAN
Music pulsed in my ears like the rhythm of an aroused heartbeat as wafts of cigarette smoke infiltrated my lungs. The high of triumph emanated around the crowded room. The Book Shelf patrons loomed around the walkways and hoarded around tables, drinks in hand. This was fairly usual for a Saturday night here, but especially after our team had just won another soccer game earlier that night.
It was a typical bar catering to the college crowd, smoky with dim lighting and big-screen televisions hanging up in the corners. There was also a small stage area for live music that they had now and then, but tonight it was just deafeningly loud music playing over a sound system.
Jonas and Ethan, two guys from the team and my closest friends, insisted that I come out with them tonight. It didn’t take too much convincing, since we were all in a pretty great mood after our big win. No arguments here.
“Come on, bro. We need that handsome face of yours to help score us some dates tonight.” Jonas tried to play it off like he was just joking around, but we all knew he liked the attention he seemed to get when they brought me out with them. I didn’t mind, and I was always up for hanging out.
Jonas wasn’t a bad-looking guy himself, but he was adamant that having me as a “wing-man” really boosted his game.
Of course, I obliged. I certainly wasn’t opposed to seeing who was out tonight, or making the acquaintance of some hot girls, though I never needed a wing-man to score with the ladies. All I had to do was show up.
As soon as we had arrived, we waited around for a table to open up, walking around in the meantime, just talking it up with people we knew here and there. Once we got a table, we sat and ordered up some beers.
“Porter, you still seeing Katy?” Ethan asked, one corner of his mouth raised in a half-smile. It was common for my teammates to call me by my last name.
“Not if I can help it. You interested?” I suspected Ethan had a thing for Katy, though I knew he wouldn’t admit to it.
“She’s hot. I’d hit that.” Ethan laughed in an attempt at indifference and held his beer bottle up for a cheers. Jonas and I obliged.
About that time, a couple of girls came up to our table to say hi, both in short-shorts and high heels with legs for days. They made small talk with the three of us, although I couldn’t help but notice, like always, that they were mostly looking at me.
What could I say? Being Dylan Porter had its perks. I wasn’t too shy to say that I had a certain charm with women. Hell, who was I kidding? I wasn’t shy at all. I never had a problem getting a date, if you could call them that.
Coming from a wealthy family and having a certain amount of good looks usually meant that a girl had a lot of self-confidence to approach me. Sometimes, though, it almost felt like some sort of secret competition these girls had against each other to see who could impress me the most.
There wasn’t much these girls weren’t willing to do to get my attention. I rarely had to approach a girl myself, and honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had. For me, there was no challenge, other than getting them to leave me alone after I’d given them a little attention. I was a nice guy, sympathetic even, but there was only so much I could take when I wasn’t interested.
After the last couple of girls I’d gone out with had gotten overly clingy, I figured that keeping my options open for a while would do me some good. I wasn’t in a hurry to rush back into anything like that any time soon, since I wasn’t looking for
anything serious at the moment, but I wasn’t averse to a little fun either.
It would just take a really special girl to impress me at this point beyond a casual fling, and since all the girls around here were like Stepford Wife clones of each other, I didn’t see that happening any time soon.
A few other girls came up and joined the two already there, and after a few minutes they all moved on before another round of girls came by, doing their own bidding. Some even brought us more drinks.
After we’d been here for a while, I saw Clara Kincade, a girl I knew through some mutual friends, come in the front entrance. That alone would not normally be enough to warrant any mention, but trailing behind her was a girl who caught my eye. She was a gorgeous brunette with big blue eyes and a smoking hot body.
Who was that girl? I hadn’t recalled ever meeting her before.
I watched them walk toward the back of the bar where they must have found a table, though I couldn’t really tell, since my back was facing them. Maybe I’d get a chance to run into them later, I thought, or maybe they’d come by and say hello.
After they moved toward the back, I saw Clara walk up to the bar to get a couple of drinks and head back in the direction of their table. I stole a glance and saw the blue-eyed beauty sitting alone, although I could tell the guys at the table behind her were checking her out. Not that I could blame them, but she didn’t seem to notice.
I thought if I could make eye contact with the girl, maybe she would come over and introduce herself, although the girls already sitting at our table would undoubtedly present an unwanted deterrent. After Clara went back to their table with their drinks, another guy soon approached their table, so I rejoined the conversation at my own table, hoping the guy had walked over to talk to Clara and not the other girl.