AllFreeNovel
Share Us
17
SO GODDAMN PRETTY
Take Me Away by Morgan Wade
Remembering when I was a child, my mother insisted I wear a dress every Sunday when we had dinner at my grandparent’s house, and every Sunday it was a battle. The dress wasn’t the issue. It was perfectly beautiful, fit nicely, and was something I actually picked out at the store. The problem was that I was being told to wear it. If my mother had never insisted, I probably would have worn it every time, but because she did, I wanted nothing to do with it.
Standing in my closet fresh out of the shower with a towel wrapped around me, I stare at the expensive pair of three inch gold heels with the wraparound ankle clasp that Adrian held up when he was in my closet a week ago. The ones he requested I wear tonight, which is why I grab a pair of comfortable sneakers instead.
Pairing them with shorts and a sleeveless shirt, I pull open my cosmetics drawer, seeing the extravagant lotion Noelle begged me to get when we were on vacation in L.A. I have a closet full of expensive shoes and nice dresses, but nothing makes me feel more like a lady than a pair of delicate lace panties, a great stick of lip gloss, and the smell of expensive lotion.
Smoothing the cream over my neck and chest, I notice how the gold flecks make my skin shine. Even though I don’t want to admit it, I wonder if Adrian will like it.
An hour later, I’m standing in front of theTap Roomagain, except this time, there’s the absence of wind to lift the edges of my shirt or rain to wash away the nerves. I’m a grown woman, and yet I’m here to stand on the sidelines to watch a guy play like a fucking groupie. The sweltering summer night starts to eat away at my hesitation. Wiping my sweaty palms against my shorts, I contemplate turning on my heel and going back to my car, but then the door opens letting out the music that had been trapped inside, and that’s when I hear his voice beckoning me to dare to come inside.
Passing the bouncer once again, he looks me over, not bothering to ask for my ID, and I narrow my eyes at him before heading to the bar.
Needing a little bit of liquid courage I walk up to the bar, recognizing Gael who served me before. His short cropped brown hair is covered this time by a Diamondbacks ball cap.
“Putin!” he calls over the bar to me.
“I’m surprised you remembered me,” I chuckle, knowing that I recognize him because I don’t frequent bars, but he must see hundreds if not thousands of people in any given week.
“How could I forget?” he gestures to me with one eyebrow cocked and a smile.
Now I know he’s messing with me.
“Think you can go for another?” he asks.
“Why not?” I shake my head knowing I’m going to need something strong. Leaning against the bar top, I look around the bar as I wait for my beer. It’s the same bar and yet it feels different tonight, and perhaps that’s because I’m not looking for anything. There are no ghosts to chase away, no past to cling to – there is only him, the man whose voice filters past the crowd and reaches out to me.
Gael slides the beer across the bar, the sound of the glass running over years’ worth of scratches drowned out by the music and chatter. The glass, already sweating from the humidity, feels cool against my hand. I never thought I would enjoy dark beer, but it seems to have attached itself as part of my persona in this bar. Dropping a few bills on the counter, I take my liquid courage with me as I walk into the small, crowded music venue. The room offers no empty tables although there are a few empty seats scattered among the crowd, and I doubt people would mind sharing. Instead of finding a seat right away, I lean against the column holding my beer, the same as I did on that first night, and stare up at the man on the stage with the easy smile and charismatic attitude.
The crowd is sucked in as much as I am with how much fun he has on stage as they sing along to the chorus of an oldJohn Cougar Mellencampsong. When his eyes meet mine, a smile spreads over his face and travels into his eyes, as he pushes away from the mic, strumming the short guitar solo between verses. His black graphic t-shirt rises above the waistband of his jeans, revealing a sliver of smooth tanned skin, hinting at his six pack as his body flexes with exertion.
Following me as I move around the room, I pick a table close to the stage, sharing it with a group of people that seem to be open to making a new friend. The table is sticky with spilled beer and hours of forgotten fried food grease, but I don’t mind. The group at the table tell stories as if they are all old friends and even bring me into their confidence with a crude story that would never be tolerated at Zentech – unless it happened on the golf course amongst the good ole boys club. I couldn’t tell you what the story was about or what their names were when they introduced themselves, because my attention has been diverted the entire time to the man on the stage who has been eye fucking me the entire time.
When the set is finally over and the hour is late, Adrian lays his guitar gently in its case to the side of the stage. The live music has been replaced by music coming from the speakers in the corners of the room, and most of the crowd has gone home or moved to the arcade. Exiting the stage, he wastes no time making his way over to me with a purposeful stride. Hair sticks to his face, and I find myself wanting to dive my fingers into it, pushing the stray pieces behind his ears.
There’s a war going on in my stomach, equal parts dread and excitement that I can’t seem to shake because I keep replaying everything in my mind, from that first moment I saw him to the shock of him showing up at my sister’s wedding where he turned out to be Laura’s little brother. The look on my sister’s face when she said,he’s ten years younger than you.
Maybe I should stay away, putting my sister first, but I want this too much.
When someone tells me I can’t have something, it only makes me want it more. It’s what makes me a good businesswoman but sometimes a poor human being. I remind myself of our arrangement – no expectations, just fun, and nobody gets hurt. I can repeat that over and over in my head, but my heart knows just how dangerous this is, and that might be part of the thrill.
Looking up at Adrian as he approaches, I find myself wanting to be swept up in his energy, treated coarsely, and have any doubt fucked out of me.
His eyes sweep over me and there’s no doubt he can feel the nervous energy emanating off me like a tidal wave. It’s probably why he doesn’t give me a chance to speak; instead he pulls me from the chair with a kiss. In his arms I’m like a rag doll, helpless to stop myself from snaking my arms around his shoulders and sinking my fingers into his hair. The room melts away like the burning of a candle until only the flame remains.
“I like it when you smile,” he says against my lips, and I hadn’t realized I was smiling. His expression darkens and his voice becomes low when he says, “Just make sure I’m the only one to cause it.”
“Jealous of my new friends?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I have never been a jealous man,” he says, looking down, brown eyes fixated on me, “Until you,” he finishes, sending an ache to travel straight to the sensitive nub between my thighs.
Forming in my brain are the words, this is lie number… whatever, but either I’ve lost count or I just don’t care anymore.
Catcalls from the table indicate we’re making quite a display, and the room comes back into focus.
