It’s kind of intense.
The other emotion I feel is much darker. It has teeth. Like I’ve just shot up heroin for the first time and the rush is all aboutthis girl. I can already feel my addiction to how fuckingbeautifulshe is spearing deep into my beating heart, changing me into a man obsessed, whether she feels the same way or not.
She will. She has to. It’s my mission now, to make sure she fucking does.
I’m a logical person. This isn’t like me at all and it’s giving me a kind of vertigo.
You can’t be obsessed with her, you lunatic. You haven’t even spoken to her yet. She might be vapid or petty or totally wrong for you. Calm the fuck down.
What I’m used to is a sort of blanket disappointment that colors everything, especially every woman I’ve ever met.
Until now.
Colors—especially hers—are freakishly bright. The music sounds sweeter. In this moment, I am completely devoid of either disappointment or boredom, maybe for the first time in my goddamn life.
She notices me and those fangs she’s already sunk into my leaping heart slice deeper.
What the fuck is happening right now?
Her hair is a dark chestnut-red at the roots, lightening as it falls in reddish-blond waves over her shoulders and down her back, thick and loose. The jaunty blond ringlets at the very ends almost reach her waist. Shorter strands curl lightly around her face. Even her bangs are wavy and playful.
It’s then that she notices me.
I keep my cool but my heartbeat feels bloody and raw.
Holy fuck, her face.
I’m used to beautiful women. I’ve spent my life around A-list movie stars and pop culture icons.
This girl has a different kind of beauty. Her beauty isn’t cultivated or self-aware. It isn’t being strategically deployed and this feels ten thousand times more dangerous.
As she moves closer, I can see that her eyes are hazel and kaleidoscopic, with shards of gold, green, brown and blue competing for attention. Her lashes are long and naturally sweeping. Her mouth is full, her lips a natural shade of pink that kicks my new obsession several notches higher.
Fuck.
My cock thickens and this almost annoys me. I don’t want anything distracting me from drinking in the sight of her.
The girl’s eyes rove slowly over me. She’s taking in thedetails of me, like women always do. There’s not a shred of desperation in her, which is always the most obvious emotion of women I meet. They’re ravenous for what I can give them. This girl just … isn’t. It’s refreshing. And it kicks my fascination into overdrive. I can tell she doesn’t recognize me.
Which is good. I don’t want her assuming things about me that no longer apply.
All of the old rules are gone, like tendrils of smoke in a balmy breeze. Everything about this girl is new to me.
She walks toward me and I honestly can’t believe such a gorgeous creature could bereal. I’m so suddenly besotted it’s disorienting. “What can I get for you, sir?”
Sir.
My cock gets fully hard but I try to ignore it, sliding off my sunglasses so I can see her without barriers. Immense relief—or joy, or choirs of angels, or whatever the fuck you want to call it—floods me when I hear her voice for the first time. It’s bell-toned with a smoky edge and a saucy little New Orleans accent that means she’s a born and bred local.I love this.And I can tell by the way she asks the question that she’s not petty. She’s the furthest thing from vapid. She’s equal parts sweet and fierce. Our eyes meet.She’s so perfect it’s quite literally painful, like I’m staring directly at the sun.
“I’ll have a Dos Equis, if you’ve got it.” Good. My voice sounds normal. Maybe deeper and huskier than usual but close enough.
“I’ve got it. You want lime?” That soft, gentle drawl is quite simply slaying me.
Mine mine mine.
I don’t know where the caveman rush is coming from but I’m feeling ithard.
The change inside my chest feels structural, like my rib cage has loosened to make room for the bigger, more complete beat of my heart. “Sure.”
