Chapter TwoCallie
Chapter Two
Callie
“Callie, it’s your birthday, bi-ach!” my best friend Maggie shouts, throwing her arms around me. It’s obvious they’ve been making use of the VIP lounge without me. They’re completely sloshed, and even from my brief walk up the stairs to the private seating area, I noticed the sexual tension passing between them. It’s a whole different dynamic than I’m used to. They’re never like this.
I pull away, needing to breathe. I make a big deal of staring at her green dress that has matching cutouts at her waist. I smile and say, “Hey, girl, that dress is banging.”
“Yes, it is,” Jacob says, smirking as he eyes her up and down. “But damn, Callie, yours is fucking a sin.” He stares at me lecherously, like he wants me to join in on whatever it is they were about to start. I wonder how much he’s already had to drink. They pre-gamed because this place is expensive and most of them don’t have money to toss around.
“Come on,” I say, waving off the attention with my hand, ducking my head in faux shyness. Even though I know I look good, I’m not looking for his praise. It’s my twenty-fourth birthday. I’ve already started celebrating by getting a tattoo of a sword in a Celtic knot because I love medieval books, and I asked the artist to draw me something that reminded me of it.
“We needed drinks,” Max says, raising his glass with a smile, showing all his pearly whites.
“It looks like you started without me,” I accuse them with my lips pressed in an annoyed smirk. I know I shouldn’t be drinking after getting a tattoo, but it’s cool because I won’t drink a lot.
“It’s not like they let you sit here doing nothing.” Maggie giggles before sipping her cocktail. “They want you to spend big bucks.” That is something I understand, but I don’t see a motherfucking drink for me. They could have at least told me to stop at the bar before I came up here.
“I can’t believe your dad got this for your birthday,” Kyle says, tossing back a shot. Yes, my dad paid for this and extra booze as well so there should be rounds being brought up, but I’m not waiting for another round. Yeah, you’d think these jerks would have ordered me a drink. I was only twenty minutes behind, and I was almost at the club when I texted them.
“I need a drink. I’ll be back.”
“Hey, they come to us,” Jacob says, trying to drag me back to his side.
I stare at the full glasses and beer bottles. There are extra beers sitting there untouched, but I need some hard liquor. “Yes, it looks like they just left.”
“They’ll be back in twenty,” Jacob says, sliding his hand around my hip. I gently slid away from him and his handsy grasp. “Have my drink.” He hands me an almost-full beer. I’m not a fan of beer, especially pale ale. I take a long pull of the beer and then hand it back, making a terrible face. It tastes worse than I remember.
He pushes my hand back. “No, keep it. I’ll order another when they come back.”
I take another drink, trying to muscle down the liquid, but I can’t. “I need a girly drink, sorry. I’m not a beer girl,” I say as I set the beer down on the table. I give them a smile and then walk back down the stairs to where the action is. The dance floor is pretty full, but there’s still room if we all feel like dancing. Suddenly a wave of need floods my mind. I want to meet a guy. After all these years, I need to find someone that sets my body ablaze with desire, but I doubt that will happen tonight.
I head over to the bar, but then get a strange sense that I’m being watched. I look toward the VIP section, and Jacob has his eyes on me. I bite down on my bottom lip and then turn to the bartender so I can ignore his stare. He’s probably just making sure I’m safe. We’re all med students, and I made it clear that I don’t date people I work with. This program is essentially a full-time position, making all the guys in the program ineligible.
“How can I help you?” the bartender asks. She’s a beautiful woman who probably makes a killing. I wonder if that’s who Jacob is staring at. If I was a dude, I’d totally flirt with her.
“Can I get a screwdriver?” I question, hoping she can make it. “Oh, and a Fireball shot.”
“Coming right up.” She mixes it in front of me. I see her add a twist to the drink, and I hope it’s good.
“Here you go.” I handed her the money as she passed me both the drink and shot.
“Your change.” She slides it across the bar top.
Unlike some of my classmates, I don’t have to worry about that. My dad keeps my bank account pretty full, and I don’t touch most of it. So, I slid the change back to her. “Keep it.” I’m not planning on drinking a lot, so this is the only time I can be generous with tipping. Being a med student doesn’t come with money, which is hard to earn with our schedules.
Still, even if money isn’t an issue for me, time is. We have so much on our plates, but that’s the only way we’ll become doctors one day. Last week I was working in the NICU, and it was my favorite place. It gave me a severe case of baby fever. However, it doesn’t matter because I’m not anywhere near ready for a baby. I need a man for that, and that doesn’t seem in the cards unless I take my dad up on his offer to introduce me to some fine gentlemen. I roll my eyes.
First, I toss the shot back, letting the cinnamon liquor burn as it goes down. Then, I take my glass and face the dance floor. Lazily I sip the drink and watch the crowd grinding and having fun. Reminding myself that I have to join my friends, I pound the drink back, setting the glass on the bar top.
I don’t want to be falling down drunk, but being a little tipsy is fine with me. I’m already feeling the buzz shimmying through my body, so I’m going to cut myself off. As I stand there, I find eyes on me again, and I bite down on my bottom lip. It’s a terrible tell that I have, but I can’t shake it. I don’t like attention, but today is my birthday and I don’t want to be a party pooper.
My father says I should learn to control my expressions because it’s dangerous in his world to give away your emotions. I don’t care about it, though. My father’s world and mine are so far apart. The mob isn’t anything I have to do with and hope to never get involved in. I shivered when he suggested a man for me to date. My dad loves me, but to him a good man is the head or the future head of one of the families. I shake my head to rid myself of the idea of me with a mobster. Never going to happen.
My eyes scan the VIP section, and that’s when I see a man in a suit walking up there. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest. God, I hope it’s not one of my father’s associates. I don’t want my two lives to cross paths. It took me by surprise when he offered to buy me a night out for my birthday. I already have everything else, so he said, “Sweetheart, you’re single and getting older. Don’t waste it. Go out, dance, meet someone.” To get him off my back, I agreed, so long as I could also invite my friends.
Marching up to the VIP section, I’m stunned because he’s definitely not in my father’s crew or I haven’t met him yet, but from his pure energy, I feel a shift in the lounge. Jacob moves around the insanely buff dude in the dark gray suit. “We’re sorry, Callie, but we have to split. Max got us kicked out.”
“Are you for real?” I gripe. My dad is going to be pissed when he finds out about it. I hope they didn’t destroy anything expensive that I can’t cover. This place is insanely exclusive, and I’d hate for my dad to be charged a hefty penny and then want answers. Even with my trepidation, I still can’t take my eyes off the guy’s back. I can almost see him grow taller, spine straightening as the words leave my mouth.
My aggravation and the alcohol fuel my irritation. “It’s my freaking birthday.” Can he feel my stare? He turns his head to the side and lifts his shoulder, giving his neck a little crack. It’s as if he’s trying to dispel tension in his body.
He turned around with a commanding presence. My body stills, staring at pure masculinity. The full but short beard is dark, like his hair, while his skin is just slightly tanned. Does he normally spend his time outside, or is that his natural color? It’s almost as olive as mine, but maybe a shade lighter. His eyes narrow, showing a few slight creases. He reminds me of a powerful, dominant hunter, and I swear he’s ready to make me his prey. His tongue peeks out from his mouth, and then he turns back to them.
He clears his throat. “Excuse me, but you can all leave. Except you ,” he orders while staring into my eyes.
His eyes are the same color as mine, if not a shade lighter, and contrasts with his medium-length black hair that’s slicked back. I love the shaved sides and slightly long top that goes just to the back of his head. It’s so sexy. The facial hair is another turn on. This man screams manly, authoritative, and imposing.
He leads me away from the group. His hands on me are like magic. I need more. I want more. For the first time in my life, I want to have sex. Maybe I just needed pure testosterone. No, that can’t be it because then I would have found some of my father’s men desirable. No, this rugged-looking man in a suit is the only one who can make me lose all inhibition.
And then Jacob has to do something stupid and pretend we were a couple. He’s a great-looking guy, but I made my sentiments known before. I’m taking his motivation for the fake relationship as a way to protect me because anything else is unacceptable to me. Still, it doesn’t matter because the man in the suit doesn’t care, and for some reason, neither do I.
The heat between us is almost too intense, causing me to struggle to catch my breath. Can you hyperventilate while your pussy soaks your panties? I believe the answer is yes.
Before I can process this magnetism, he takes my hand, forgetting about my friends, and leads me to the dance floor. God, this man is something out of a Marvel movie. His muscles cut through the suit jacket, rippling like a beast with every damn step. I watch his body move, and I’m mesmerized.
I follow his lead, hoping it ends with a night I’ll never forget.