Connected - Page 2/51

“I didn’t mean the luge,” he said coyly before plunging his tongue into my ear and grinding his h*ps into mine.

I pulled back from him and effectively removed his hands from inside my leggings. I needed to stop this very public display of affection before I couldn’t. I brushed his blond hair away from his seductive blue eyes and asked, “You coming?”

Grinning fiendishly, he answered, “I hope to be soon, gorgeous!”

I laughed and shook my head. “Ben Covington, you’re impossible.”

Loud music played overhead in the dimly lit room that was largely occupied by trick-or-treaters who paid no attention to us. I reached around his neck and tugged his head down to mine, melding my mouth to his. He really was something else.

Ben pulled his soft lips from mine and groaned in my ear. “My room now. I need to f**k you.”

I leaned back and stared at his incredibly irresistible grin. Summoning all of my willpower, I tried to decide what to do.

Before I could respond, Aerie tugged my ponytail. She had a light sway to her stance and with her slightly slurred words she said, “There you are, girlfriend! You ready?”

Disentangling myself from him, I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed, “Sorry. Rain check?”

He exhaled and muttered under his breath to Aerie, “Nice f**king timing.”

Aerie, being Aerie, thumped him in the forehead. “Watch the language, ass**le,” she quipped haughtily as she reached for my arm.

Leaning back toward Ben, I gave him a swift kiss. With Aerie forcefully tugging me toward the door, I managed to say, “Meet you back here later.” Walking backwards and giggling, I blew Ben a kiss and waved goodbye.

Rocking back on his heels, he stood with both hands in his pockets while biting his lip and shaking his head at me.

The cool night helped to settle the heat Ben had just sparked in my body. Sounds of Halloween echoed from every direction as we walked down fraternity row. I put my hands over my ears to block the shrill of the annoying sounds filtering from house windows. I glanced at Aerie, or more specifically, at her devil costume. She must have been plastered when she got ready because it wasn’t something I could have ever imagined her wearing. It really was the most ridiculous outfit; a very short red sequin dress, high heels, and all the accessories to match. It could barely pass as an acceptable red-light district ensemble—let alone a Halloween costume.

As we walked toward the bar, I grabbed a stumbling Aerie by the arm before she landed on her ass. “Have a nice trip?” I laughed, knowing full well she didn’t like to be made fun of but not really caring right now.

Aerie shrugged, pulling her wavy beautiful blonde hair back and fastening it with the clip she had been fishing out of her purse when she missed her step. “Be nice,” she quipped, stopping me so she could readjust her shoe. “At least you can’t call me a non-conformist!” She stopped pouting, having resolved her anger toward my sarcastic remark by assaulting me with her drunken words.

I had never told Aerie that Halloween was the anniversary of my parents’ death. Ben was the only one who knew. He understood why I disliked Halloween and why I never dressed up. For me, it was already a dark day, and I never felt the need to cover my sadness by camouflaging my feelings with a costume.

I sighed at her intoxicated state and recognized my own, not exactly sober, frame of mind; I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and put on my very best Vincent Price voice from Thriller. “Ahhhahhahaaahaaa, you know I never conform. It’s against my religion.”

We continued walking—Aerie in red high-heel vixen pumps, me in black Converse sneakers—and she tripped again, leaving her shoe behind her this time. “Aerie, really, I think your outfit could have done without those shoes. They’re too big, you dumbass.” I turned around and picked up her shoe. “What size are these?” I asked, squinting to see inside the shoe.

“Don’t worry about it; it’s not like you’d ever wear them anyway, Miss I-Always-Have-to-Wear-Comfortable-Shoes. It was the only pair of red shoes left, and one size too big is hardly an issue when they match your outfit perfectly,” she announced, yanking the shoe out of my hand. “You know it’s all about the look. I’d sacrifice comfort for style any day. Ahem…” she cleared her throat while looking down at my shoes.

Shaking my head at her, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

I walked a little slower so she could keep her shoes on. Aerie said in a much sweeter voice, “Thanks for taking me out. Now, come on. Let’s get moving and have some fun. It’s girls’ night out after all, and I have a broken heart to mend.”

I gave her a little smile as I squeezed her arm. “Sweetheart, I think you started the mending process hours ago!”

Aerie shuffled down the sidewalk to hold her shoes in place, and I just knew this was going to be an interesting night. Aerie, my best friend since freshman year, broke up with her boyfriends like I changed the flavor of my coffee creamer—often.

Aerie was a Type-A personality, but you would never have known this in her drunken state. Her major flaw was her drive for perfection, not just with herself, but also with her boyfriends. When a guy fell short of the perfection she expected, she simply moved on. As was the case with her last boyfriend and she broke up with him yesterday. Tonight she was looking forward to new horizons, and I was looking forward to listening to a new band.

Chapter Two

NEXT LIFETIME

What am I going to do

I want you in my life

But I can’t have you for myself

Because I belong to someone else

So I’ll see you in our next lifetime.

We walked through the open door to the USC Campus Bar and Aerie pulled her tail up. “At least they aren’t playing that Halloween crap in here,” she yelled a little too loudly. As my ears adjusted to a more peaceful sound, I heard a velvety soft voice singing an unfamiliar, yet captivating song.

Aerie stopped to put her devil horns on, and I glanced through the large room at all of the familiar faces while trying to get a glimpse of the band on stage. I shouted directly into her ear, “They sound really good. Have you heard them before?”

She was on her toes trying to see over the crowd of people. I laughed at her short stature until her pointy devil horn hit me in the eye. “No, but love their sound,” she responded, still trying to see the stage and almost falling over.

I had been coming here for the last three years to listen to music, experience new bands, and dance. I couldn’t ever remember seeing this bar so crowded. There were so many people around I could barely see the long wooden bar to my right, and with the mass of bodies bumping and grinding on the dance floor, I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of the stage behind it.

Looking at Aerie, I asked, “Do you know their name?”

“I think they're called The Wilde Ones,” she hiccupped and laughed. She winked at me as she started to dance her way toward some friends she had just spotted on the dance floor and yelled over her shoulder, “By the way, I love them! Great name and an even greater sound.”

Aerie was like two people in one. Sober Aerie was a perfectly performing machine, with impatience and order ingrained in her life. Drunken Aerie was a sober Aerie with fun and downright craziness mixed in. I’m not sure which one I preferred.

“I’ll get drinks and meet you out there in a bit,” I said to no one since she was already gone. Throngs of people surrounded me as I made my way to the bar. When the bartender acknowledged me, I ordered two beers, one with ice and one without, and tacked on two shots to continue in my quest to help Aerie drown out her misery.

The live music stopped and the typical mix of Halloween songs played throughout the room. I turned my back to the bar and scanned the crowd for Aerie. You would think she would be easy to spot in her red sequin devil costume. She said she was out for vengeance and if her outfit of choice was any indication, she was going to be vindicated.

Looking through the crowd, I didn’t see her anywhere but what I did see was one attractive silhouette, and I was drawn to it. The silhouette was that of a guy. He was still too far away for me to zero in on any specific physical feature. But something . . . no everything about him drew my attention.

I studied the silhouette’s movement and noticed the beauty of his walk; he was captivating and he oozed confidence. He seemed to be relaxed and not in a hurry, like he knew exactly where he was going. This attractive guy was strutting in my direction and as he got closer I was completely mesmerized. Biting my bottom lip, I was unable to focus on anything else but him. My head was still a little foggy from the three beers I had consumed earlier. I was clearly not thinking straight when I made eye contact with him and slowly studied his body from head to toe purposefully.

As the distance between us narrowed, I could see that his physical appearance was just as captivating as his walk. He was alarmingly attractive: long, lean, and muscular but not bulky. He wore a black beanie hat with his light brown hair sticking out here and there. When I looked into his eyes, they simply undid me. Although I couldn’t see their color, the intensity of them was extremely powerful. It was almost as though if I looked into them for too long I might never get out. His eyes aside, the words handsome and gorgeous weren't strong enough adjectives to describe him.

My mind wandered to where it shouldn't. Knowing better than to compare this captivating guy to my boyfriend, I did it anyway. I felt incredibly guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. My boyfriend was all surfer. He was attractive, hot, and sexy with an ego to match. This breathtaking guy was equally as attractive, hot, and sexy, but there was something else—something more. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Easing his way through the crowd, he removed his beanie, and ran his hands through his hair. I swear I could see a hint of copper peeking through his light brown locks. When our eyes connected it felt like minutes, in reality it was mere seconds. At that moment, something happened inside of me. The connection was like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was an electric pull that willed me in and forced me to keep looking at him.

Everything I saw and everything I felt translated into three little words—he is dangerous. I knew I should look away, walk away, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. He was just too alluring. I wanted to know everything about him and I hadn’t even met him yet. With those three words swirling around in my mind, other thoughts screamed over them. Thoughts I couldn’t ignore, and I knew I needed to see this through.

He was finally close enough that I could see that his gleaming eyes were green. Their soft, reflective sheen reminded me of two crystal balls. I was instantly drawn to his smile like a magnet. It wasn’t a full smile, more like a half grin emphasizing his dimples. His skin was smooth with no facial hair and that made me weak in the knees. He had full lips that made me want to kiss him, and I don’t know why. I’d never looked at another guy like this before, not even Ben. So why was I eyeing him this way, and why was I unable to avert my gaze?

Aside from his overall physical sex appeal, his simple clothing choice made him even more irresistible. He wore faded jeans, a black Foreigner concert t-shirt, and black work boots. I had to laugh a little when I saw the concert t-shirt because I was wearing one too. Mine was my dad's with U2 emblazoned across the front. I had it knotted on the side, which allowed the neck to hang off my shoulder.

Having managed his way through the crowd much better than I had, he was standing right in front of me. His face was breathtaking; he had an adorable chin, a small straight nose, perfectly shaped eyebrows, and long eyelashes. He was an utter vision of perfection and I couldn’t help but smile.

The bar was crowded and there was no room on either side of me. Putting both hands in his pockets, he stood where he was and smiled back at me. Then, running his tongue over his bottom lip, he asked in a low, sexy voice, “Were you staring at me?”