by Amy Noelle
He lingered on the photo for a moment before he handed it back to me. “So you two were making plans for the weekend?”
“Yeah. Well, tomorrow anyway. Tonight is Supernatural.”
He laughed. “That’s right. Nobody’s allowed to interfere with your show.”
“Don’t you forget it. You’d better not call me with a work emergency on a Friday night, ever.” I smiled to let him know I was kidding. Sort of. It would have to be a major emergency for me not to go postal.
“I value my life too much to attempt it,” he said and held up his hands in surrender. I wanted to grab one and link his long fingers with mine, just to see how we fit together.
“You’re a smart guy, Josh.”
“I try, Nic.” He looked at me for a moment before glancing at the computer. “I guess we should get to work.”
I felt a pang of disappointment that playtime was over, but he was right. “Sounds like a plan. I suppose you’d like to get started on your first weekend in Chicago, as well,” I said as I opened the file we’d been working on.
“I’m looking forward to it.” There was a look in his eye that made my stomach churn. Of course. He was going out with his friend, and women would be all over his fine ass. Well, that was good. I was going out to find someone to screw my brains out, wasn’t I? I could hardly expect him to sit at home like a monk when I had no hold on him.
“I hope you have fun,” I said, doing my best to sound sincere. I was hoping the opposite of that, which was bitchy of me, but he didn’t need to know how evil and hypocritical I was.
He smiled as he passed me the phone and grazed his thumb along the back of my hand. “I think I just might.”
I tried to keep smiling despite the fact that my toes were curling and I felt like my body was on fire. At the same time my stomach tightened when I thought of him having fun with some faceless, nameless—but no doubt slutty—girl.
This had to stop. He would go out and have a good time and, damn it, so would I. I was going to drive him out of my mind with some nameless, faceless guy of my own, even if it killed me.
Chapter 9
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Jen said as she walked up to me outside Oblivion. I looked her over and was pleasantly surprised she’d worn a pretty teal dress that showed off her curves. I’d half thought she’d show up in jeans and a ratty T-shirt just to make tonight more of a challenge for me. Not that I couldn’t hook her up even if she was wearing that. My best friend was beautiful, and it was time she put herself out there again.
“You look amazing,” I said, not bothering to keep the awe out of my voice.
She rolled her eyes. “You do realize I look decent at work every day, don’t you? Unlike some people, I have to dress appropriately.”
And some of us were just lucky to get a better work environment. “I can’t help it if my job performance is judged on talent, not looks.”
“Stay out of retail, then,” she said. “You look pretty hot yourself.”
It was about time she noticed. I’d gone for the classic little black wrap dress that cut low enough to show my breasts off to perfection. I’d adorned it with a silver chain link belt and some chunky silver jewelry. Like Jen, I’d left my hair loose, though I’d curled mine a bit. I’d gone the whole nine yards with the makeup, but I was wearing ballet flats instead of the ice-pick heels she was sporting.
“Thank you. Are you ready?” She didn’t respond, and I laughed and steered her inside. Oblivion was a club downtown that catered to business types. The majority of men here tended to wear suits rather than jeans and leather. There was a dance floor, but primarily it was a place to drink and mingle. I came here now and then when I had an itch to scratch. While my friends liked to tease me about my losers, the vast majority of them weren’t. Nerdy, a little less attractive than average, yes, but losers, no. I’d only hooked up with a couple of those.
“This doesn’t look that bad,” Jen said when we reached the bar.
“I was hardly going to bring you to a biker bar or a sex club on your first night out,” I said, grinning when she looked horrified.
“Please tell me you don’t ever go to those,” she said and grabbed my wrist.
I laughed. “I don’t frequent them or anything.” She looked like she might slide off the stool, so I steadied her. “I’m kidding. This is usually where I come. Sometimes I go to Junior’s or the Red Door, but that’s about it.”
“The Red Door sounds like it might be a sex club,” Jen said, and I laughed again.
“Well, it’s not. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“Too late.”
“What can I get you?” Sandy asked from behind the bar and grinned when she recognized me. “Never mind, Nic, I know what you’re having. How about you?”
“I’ll have a Long Island,” Jen said. I let out a low whistle. She was bringing out the big guns. Whatever she needed to make herself comfortable. My amaretto stone sour was going to hit the spot. After the week I’d had, I needed it.
Sandy slid our drinks in front of us and patted the register to let me know she’d started a tab. I thanked her and we strolled through the bar, ostensibly looking for a table, but really scoping out the clientele. That’s what I was doing, anyway. Jen was shuffling along next to me, sucking down her drink. I was seriously worried she would have it finished before we even sat down, but a table opened up directly in front of us, and I claimed it before anybody else could. Victory.
“So, did you see anything you liked?” I asked once Jen had joined me.
“What?” she asked.
She was so clueless. “Hello! You were supposed to be checking out the guys while we worked our way to the table.”
“Oh. Oops.” She shrugged and glanced around, looking obvious as all hell. I sighed.
“That’s not how it’s done,” I said, exasperated.
“Well, how do I know? I don’t do this crap.” She started drinking again, and I let her. Maybe if she got a buzz on she’d be a little less uptight. “Tell me about the office hottie. Do all your coworkers want to stab your eyes out with pencils?”
“Lovely imagery,” I said, though it wasn’t entirely inaccurate. “Lisa glares at me every time I step out of the office. Angela just wiggles her eyebrows at me and gives me a thumbs-up. I’m starting to wonder if Kim’s e-mailing her.” Jen laughed. “Andrew makes crude jokes implying we’re doing more than working in the office. I think he’s doing it more to piss Lisa off than to get to me.”
“Is Lisa making moves on him?” Jen finished her drink and pushed it away. “I need more.”
She was going to be trashed. I’d have to switch to water soon to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid. I flagged down a waitress and ordered Jen another Long Island Iced Tea.
“Well, is she?” Jen asked again.
“I don’t know.” Just the thought of it had my stomach fluttering again. “She’s dressing even sluttier, if that’s possible, and I’ve seen her talking to him.” And him smiling at her. It had taken everything in me not to march over and start yelling at him for giving her my smile.
But he wasn’t mine, and I didn’t even know if I wanted him to be. I wanted him, yes. I could admit that now. If I could just fuck him and forget him, he’d be out of my system and we could move on. But I didn’t sleep with coworkers. I also didn’t sleep with such insanely attractive men, and I figured once with Josh wouldn’t be enough. Not the way my body went on hyper-alert every time he was near.
“Maybe I could bang him on his last night in town.” Then I’d be forced to be done with him.
“And what if he blew your mind? Would you follow him to New York and leave me behind?” Jen’s second drink was in front of her, and she was already pounding it.
“Does drinking turn you into a poet?” I laughed. “I’d never leave you behind. You’re the one who’s looking for Mr. Right. Maybe I should be worried about you leaving me behind.” I wasn’t, really, but the thought did giv
e me a little bit of anxiety. Jen and I were standing alone these days.
“I would never leave you. You’re stuck with me even if I get a man, because you know I’ll need you so I don’t screw it all up again.” She sighed and pushed her drink away. Thank God. I didn’t want to have to cut her off. “I don’t know how to do it, Nic.”
“How to do what?”
“Talk to a guy. It’s been so long since David . . .” She scrunched up her face. “You know I suck at this. Before him, I had so little experience. I dated my brother’s best friend. I didn’t have to flirt or do anything. I don’t know how.”
“You talk to guys all the time,” I said. Sure, the boutique where she worked mainly had a female clientele, but men did stop in and I’d seen her at work. She was good at it.
“That’s not the same. It’s professional detachment. I can do detachment really well.”
We both knew I wasn’t any better when it came to opening up to a guy, but I did know how to flirt. “It’s not that hard. Look around, see if there’s anybody who gets you going, and we’ll take it from there.”
She glanced around and seemed to zero in on one. “He’s kind of cute.” I followed her gaze to a guy who was playing pool. He had slightly long blond hair and was wearing a sharp gray suit. He laughed at something his friend said before banking the nine ball in the corner pocket.
“All right. He has a friend, so we work them in tandem.”
“Tandem? What do you mean?” she asked, sounding panicked as I stood up.
I couldn’t trust her to walk up to the guy and try to strike up a conversation without a little help. “I mean, I’m going to distract the other guy so you can talk to yours.” My guy wasn’t too bad. He had glasses and his hair kind of stuck up in adorable ways. His face was a bit round and he was carrying a few extra pounds, but he didn’t offend the eyes or anything.
Jen grabbed my hand. “What am I supposed to say?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just walk over and pretend to try and get my attention. When I ignore you, turn to him and apologize for my distracting his friend during their game. Offer to play in his place when I take him away.” I was going to get him to buy me a drink after he caused me to spill mine. It was an old trick but surprisingly effective.
I headed that way as Jen trailed behind me. “I’m going to kick your ass,” I called back to her. As planned, I collided with the wingman and managed to avoid spilling my drink on my dress. “Oh, my drink!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.” His deep baritone voice was pretty sexy. I could work with that. Maybe Jen had unintentionally found me my man.
“What a week,” I said as I set my drink aside and grabbed some napkins. “Did I get any on you?”
He glanced at his jacket where there was a drop or two, and I took my napkin and rubbed at it. His brown eyes got pretty wide behind his frames, and I fought back a smile. It was that easy. “I’m so sorry about that.” I sighed as I surveyed my drink. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jen standing next to the other guy, waving at me. I ignored her as planned. “Guess it’s back to the bar for me.”
“Let me buy you a drink. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thanks. I guess I should go clean up. I’m a little sticky.” I bit my lip and watched him gulp a little. So easy.
“I’ll be right back,” he called to his friend, setting his pool stick aside before walking with me toward the bar.
“You really don’t have to,” I said.
“I insist.”
“Okay. I’ll go wash my hands and meet you back here.” I hurried through the task, not wanting him to take my drink and head back to his friend. When I came out, I got a glimpse of Jen smiling at her guy.
“The bar is busy,” wingman said when I returned to his side. It was, though Sandy would hit me up as soon as she saw me. She was a kickass bartender.
“Since you’re buying me a drink and all, maybe I should introduce myself. I’m Nicole.”
“I’m Scott,” he said and held out a hand, which I shook with my no-longer sticky one. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
Jen was now playing pool with his friend, so I shifted Scott’s attention away from the game. “Are you from here or just visiting?”
“I’m originally from Wisconsin, but I’ve been here for about a decade,” he said.
Sandy came over and shot me a knowing grin. We’d talked about what she deemed my “questionable taste” before, and she knew what I went for.
Scott ordered my drink and a Bud for himself. He put down some money, and Sandy headed off to make my drink.
“I’ve lived here nearly that long. What do you do?”
“I’m an accountant.” I should have known. He had that look about him. I’d hooked up with an accountant before. What he’d lacked in the size department he’d made up for in attention to detail. I wondered if it was the same for all accountants. I could probably find out, since Scott couldn’t take his eyes off my tits, but I didn’t feel any of the usual buzz I felt around one of my conquests.
Normally I felt some attraction, even if others didn’t understand what I saw in a guy. There’d be a little spark of anticipation. But right now I had nothing, which was surprising because the guy wasn’t bad looking, and he seemed pretty nice.
Our drinks came, and I turned to head back to the pool table but stopped when I saw his friend was now playing alone. I looked around and found Jen back at our table, drinking. “I’d better get back to my friend. Thanks for the drink!” I said to Scott before hurrying away. There was no point in playing the game when it wasn’t going anywhere.
“What happened?” I asked when I got back to my chair.
“Engaged,” Jen said flatly after taking another long sip of her drink. “His name is Patrick, and he’s very nice. He thinks I’d be an excellent pool player with a little work, and he’s heading home to his fiancée as soon as he wraps up this game.”
“Well, damn. At least you talked to him, right? You saw that it’s possible.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, scowling into her glass. “Just my luck. But I do have to tell you that you’re smooth as hell. I loved watching you work that guy. Maybe I should have gone for him instead. He’s not intimidating.”
I grinned at her. “Stooping to my lower standards, are we? It’s definitely easier to talk to a guy who doesn’t knock your socks off than it is one you’re attracted to. That’s just the law of nature.”
“Talking sucks.” She pushed her empty glass away. “I’m going to use the bathroom. Can we go to Mulligan’s? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Sure.” I was over this place anyway, since there was nobody who gave me even a slight tingle. Stupid Josh, ruining me for all other men. “Don’t let one taken guy get you down, Jen. This is a big city, and there are plenty of fantastic available men out there.”
“Yeah, right.” She walked away and I sighed, worried she was going to give up before she even got started.
“Um, hey, Nicole.” I turned. There was Scott, looking nervous. Shit. I smiled, even though I wasn’t interested. I didn’t want to discourage him, just like I didn’t want Jen to be discouraged. “My friend has to leave, so I was hoping maybe I could join you.”
“Well, actually . . .”
“Hey, beautiful. Sorry I’m late.”
It couldn’t be. But I’d know that voice anywhere. I turned slowly and there he was, in all his stunning male glory. Unlike most guys here who were in suits, he was in black jeans, a black shirt, and a leather jacket. What was he doing here? Did he call me “beautiful”? Was I hallucinating? No, he was real. The buzz was definitely there now, and it wasn’t for poor Scott.
“Josh?”
Chapter 10
Josh smiled that intoxicating smile that brought me to my knees as he put his hand on my shoulder. I felt the heat of his touch all the way to my toes and cursed him for it.
“Who else would I be?” he asked.
I had many answers to that question, most of which were some version of “the devil” for the way he tempted me.
What in the hell was going on? Had I wished him into reality? Maybe he really was some sort of demon.
Josh slid into the seat next to me, and I was vaguely aware of whatever-his-name-was shuffling off. Josh leaned toward me, and I wasn’t sure if I imagined his lips skimming my cheek before they reached my ear. Probably more wishful thinking. God, he smelled good.
“You looked like you could use rescuing,” he said. He pulled away, and I gasped for breath as he glanced over his shoulder. “It seems your friend had someplace else to be.” Naturally, he thought it was funny to fuck with me.
“Do I really give off that damsel-in-distress vibe?” I asked, letting my temper loose since that was much easier to deal with than my desire to drag him to the nearest surface and take what I wanted.
His expression turned smug. “No, but you have to admit that guy wasn’t your type.”
And just what did he know? That guy was exactly my type, unlike this smug bastard in front of me. “You don’t know anything about my type. And whether he was or wasn’t, I could have gotten rid of him if I’d wanted to.”
“Yeah, but this saved us a little time. How are you?” he asked, like he hadn’t just laid fake claim to me. I was pissed off because I wanted him to claim me. But it wasn’t real, and it hurt.
“I’m busy, quite clearly,” I said. I picked up my drink and took a long slug. I was going to need help to get through being in his presence yet again. Wasn’t I supposed to have a weekend away to get him out of my damn system? And yet here he was. Always in my face and on my mind.
“Yes, you look very busy.”
“I was, until you came along,” I said through clenched teeth. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you stalking me?” Was it wrong that I wanted him to say yes? Probably. Maybe I should start seeing a shrink along with going to the gym. I could get mentally and physically healthy, all while driving him out of my mind.
