What's Left of Me Read online

Page 2


  Shannon shouts over the music, “To making new friends!”

  Jean beams in her chair; locking eyes with me, “To letting go!”

  What the hell. Bottoms up!

  I clink my glass with the others. “To letting go, new beginnings, and new friendships.”

  Bringing the shot glass to my lips, I tilt my head back and take the shot in one swallow. The sweet taste hits my tongue before it moves smoothly down my throat. It’s sweet, like raspberries, but strong, like tequila.

  Jean is already sipping her martini laughing at something with Shannon. Feeling a little left out, I lean back in my chair and look around. The dance floor one level up is now packed with people jumping around screaming “Shots!” over and over again along with some song. The two-story bar is fairly open, leaving little to the imagination. Every table in the lower level is occupied and the long bar to our right is packed.

  Three bartenders, two men and one woman, stand behind the bar pouring and mixing drinks, and flirting with anyone within earshot. The men are dressed in tight black t-shirts that show off their arm muscles and very tight dark jeans that show off everything. The gorgeous redhead is wearing black and silver, showing just enough skin in her low cut tank to allow the men to drool over her.

  “So, Aundrea, Jason told me you’re attending the University of Rochester this semester? Did you get the classes you wanted?” Shannon asks.

  Setting what I learned was a Pineapple Lemon Drop martini down on the table, I look over to Shannon. “Yeah, online. And I’m only taking one class this semester. Something light.”

  I didn’t plan on taking classes here, but after speaking with my parents and Genna it made sense. I want to do something instead of being stuck inside Genna’s house, suffocating.

  After I graduated from high school, I took a few online courses, and one semester at the university with Jean. I’ve always been good at math and I love science, so I started with those courses. It was after a few classes that I decided to apply them toward an Astrophysics major. When I was a little girl, I sat out on my parents’ deck, drinking hot chocolate and stargazing with my dad. My dad would make up stories about the stars. They stuck with me, so after I learned about the program, I knew that was what I wanted to do. Study the universe.

  By the time our second round of martinis arrives, I’m one drink past my limit. Now I understand the need for water. The beat of the music moves through my body and I start swaying with the slow song, grateful for less shouting and the change of pace.

  I stand up and point to the bathroom sign. Shannon nods in acknowledgment while Jean waves me off. I’m actually surprised no one stood to go with me. Women always seem to travel in groups to the bathroom.

  I reach the long line of women waiting to use the two-stall bathroom. After a few minutes of waiting, I glance over at the sign labeled “Men.” Watching to see if anyone is coming or going, I decide to take my chances. Stepping out of the line, I make my way over to the men’s restroom.

  After washing my hands, I touch up with the lipstick that Jean stuck in my purse. I actually don’t look half bad. My short, dark brown hair is pulled back and pinned in a small teased bump. Pulling my dress up slightly, I’m taking one last look in the mirror when the door opens.

  Shifting my eyes in the mirror, I take in the large figure that walks in. He looks up, and I’m met with clear, crystal-blue eyes. I step away from the counter, not dropping his gaze. His eyes remind me of the Caribbean ocean. His sandy blond hair is gelled in all sorts of directions, giving it a sexy, messy, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed look that goes perfectly with his tanned skin. He has well-kempt stubble and is probably the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life. Correction, he is the most handsome man I have ever seen. I drink in the white dress shirt he’s wearing with black dress slacks and the matching black tie that is hanging loosely around his neck. A little over-dressed for this place? Yes. But do I care? No. He could be wearing anything—or nothing—right now and I would be happy.

  My eyes are still on his as I watch him slowly back away from the spot where he was standing. Opening the door behind him, he glances very briefly at something just outside, which I can only imagine is the door labeled “Men.” He lets the door close behind him as he makes his way back into the bathroom closer to me.

  Raising an eyebrow, he asks, “You do realize you’re in the men’s restroom, correct?” There’s a hint of amusement in his deep voice, but he doesn’t smile. Blushing, I nod. I’m too shocked at the attractive man in front of me to say anything. For the first time in my life, I’m left speechless. It’s as if he has sucked all the air out of the room, preventing my lungs from filling back up.

  Men this good-looking are only supposed to exist in books or movies. Not real life.

  Even in my low heels, which make me almost six feet, he’s still towering over me. Breathtaking.

  With his eyes traveling over my body, I can feel heat creeping up my face. Finding the air in my lungs, I let out the breath I was holding. “Sorry. Um, there was a line, and I really had to go. Excuse me.”

  Really had to go? That’s all you could come up with!? Smooth. Real smooth, Aundrea.

  I quickly move around him to leave, not looking at him as I go. I can hear a soft chuckle behind me as the door closes. Once I’m in the hallway, I try to slow my breathing to prevent me from hyperventilating.

  I make my way back to our table to find it empty. Looking around, I spot Jean and Shannon on the second level laughing and dancing with a group of guys. I pick up the shot glass on our table as if it’s calling my name, and tell myself that tonight is all about new beginnings. Tonight, I’m letting loose.

  I take the shot quickly, because Lord only knows I need to be completely wasted if I’m going to make a fool of myself out on that dance floor.

  Welcome to Rochester, Aundrea!

  After joining the girls on the dance floor, I lose all track of time. I have no idea how long we’ve been dancing, and I can feel my head spinning from the alcohol with every move, letting me know I’ve hit my limit on the booze.

  There is a dull ache creeping in my side that I’m almost positive is from my horrible dance moves. Knowing I need to give my body a rest, I start to make my way toward the stairs when hands slide around my waist, pulling me back against a firm chest. Instantly, I freeze. Just when I’m about to turn around and tell off whoever has his hands on me, he starts to sway his hips, moving mine with his, making us move together as one. Jean comes into my view with the biggest smile in the world, so I know who ever has his hands on me must be good-looking or she’d come to my rescue. She gives me the approving thumbs up and turns back to the guy she is dancing with, no longer paying me any attention.

  I figure one dance with “thumbs up man” will be okay, so I bring my hands up, wrap them around his neck and start to grind back against him. His hands grip my hips tighter, causing me to wince as he pulls me farther back into him where I can feel all of him. Every. Hard. Inch. I release my hands around his neck and swivel down along his rock hard body, raising my dress slightly as I do.

  I don’t normally dance like this. Actually, I never dance like this. I give silent thanks for the liquid courage allowing me to have one of the best nights in months.

  Bringing myself almost low enough to touch the ground, my dress rises an inch more, showing off the ass cheek I was trying not to flash this evening. I quickly make my way back up his body, which I’m sure did not look as seductive as I planned. When I’m finally back in a standing position, his strong hands tug my hips, turning me. My head spins faster than my body, so it takes a second to stop the room from moving around me. When a finger under my chin tilts my head up, I am gazing into a pair of clear, crystal-blue eyes.

  Chapter Two

  I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head twice and brings his hand up to softly touch the back of my neck, causing chills to run down my spine. I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel the music at the same time as his
knee slides between my legs, lifting my dress ever so slightly. Moving his hand away from my neck, he takes one of my hands and wraps it around his neck while his other hand curls around my waist, pulling me snug to his body. When his hand releases mine, he swiftly moves it to wrap around my back. I bring my other arm up to meet his neck, just barely touching his hairline. Together we start moving with the music, grinding into one another. I work my hips in slow circles, matching his seductive pace and keeping my eyes locked on his.

  I’ve heard that you can tell a lot about someone’s bedroom skills by the way they move on the dance floor. Let it be known that if this man moves in the bedroom the way he’s moving with me right here on the dance floor, I will be more than happy to allow him to show me those moves. Here or in the bedroom. And by the feel of a certain thing, I know he wouldn’t mind showing me those moves either.

  We keep our eyes on one another as he gradually bends his knees, lowering us. My dress shifts higher, but I don’t care. His left hand moves from my hip and grabs my ass tightly, supporting me while guiding us down even further and then, little by little, back up again. His fingers graze the skin between my thigh and butt, making me quiver.

  The alcohol has completely taken over my entire body making everything numb, including my teeth. The ache in my hip that was present earlier is no longer noticeable.

  I move my right hand away from his neck to move some hair that is sticking to my forehead from the sweat of us dancing. Before I reach my face, he releases his hand on my backside to move my hair for me. He keeps his hand cupped to the side of my face making it rather difficult to look away from his eyes boring deep into my soul, and all I can think about is how badly I want him to kiss me right here, in front of everyone.

  Wait. My soul? Kissing? I have officially reached my limit on the alcohol.

  Shaking my head, I float back down to earth and push out of his grasp. A soft objection leaves his lips at the sudden release of our bodies. I need to get away before I start doing something that I shouldn’t. I turn away from him, but before I can walk away he’s reaching out and grabbing my elbow.

  “Don’t go,” he says as he tries to pull me back against him.

  He isn’t quick enough. I look at his hand on my elbow just as the other dancers begin to move closer, breaking us apart and filling the void that wasn’t there moments ago. His eyes beg me to stay. Turning, I quickly walk toward the steps, glancing at Jean. Nodding my head toward our table, I start my decent down the stairs. As if on cue, she follows quickly behind, leaving her dance partner alone. I have no idea where Shannon is, or if she’s even still up there dancing. There are too many bodies to look around, so I just head to our table knowing she’ll meet us there when she is done.

  Staying there, dancing so closely with him, gave me a thrill I haven’t felt in a long time. I haven’t had the feeling of wanting to be close to anyone in four years. But tonight, with him, it felt right. I didn’t want to walk away, but staying wasn’t an option. It isn’t an option. Staying leads to trouble. And that man is trouble.

  Reaching our table, I gulp down my glass of water, not bothering to sit, and wipe the water from my chin when it spills.

  “Holy fucking shit, Dre! That was so fucking hot! He’s fucking hot! Get your cute little ass back up there, and get that fine piece of ass’s number. Better yet, take his ass home, or go home with him!”

  My eyes follow her mouth as she speaks a mile a minute. I’m not even sure she has taken a breath yet. “How many times do you think you can say fuck or ass?”

  “Fuck. Ass. Fuck. As—”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. Calm down.” I laugh. “No one is exchanging phone numbers. No one is going home with anyone or taking anyone home.” I slur my words a little as I say them.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Jean, you know me better than that. I’m not some bar slut who goes home with random guys.”

  “Random hot guys. And you think I’m a bar slut?”

  “Sorry, random hot guys. And you already know how I feel about the barflies you hang around.”

  Shannon grins as she makes her way toward us. “Oh. My. God. Did you see who I was dancing with? He was so dreamy.”

  “You should have seen the hotness that was grinding all up on Aundrea. That man was seriously fucking hot!”

  “He wasn’t that hot,” I state matter-of-factly.

  Jean stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have. “Not that hot?” she screeches.

  Shannon stands there with a confused expression. “And I missed it? Well, damn!”

  Jean continues speaking over Shannon, “I may be drunk, but we’re not so drunk that beer goggles have kicked in yet. Aundrea, if you don’t march back up there and get his number, I’m going to go get it for you. Better yet, if you don’t go home with him and get laid, I’m going to go over there and mount him myself. Maybe even right here!”

  I roll my eyes at her last statement. “Slow down. No one is mounting anyone. Especially not here! There will be no fornicating for this girl tonight. Drunk or not.”

  Shannon continues to look back and forth between us, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I missed this. I’m so pissed!”

  “Aundrea, come on. When is the last time you had meaningless, hot, passionate, crazy, sweaty sex with someone? Oh, wait. What’s that?” she questions, raising her hand to her ear. “Right, never, and don’t you dare tell me Steven Jacobs because that was, like, I don’t know, forever ago. Plus, you kept complaining about how awful it was.”

  It was awful. Like, really awful. I met Steven in a study group. It was during the only semester I ever took classes on campus. He kept asking me out, but I didn’t want to lead him on because I didn’t want anything more than friendship. That only lasted four months because I was stupid enough to sleep with him, if you can even call it that. Steven came before we even got started. The second he came in contact with me, he was a goner. I was stupid enough to try it again with him a few nights later. I told myself it was going to be meaningless sex, just something to take my mind off of all that was going on with me: my family, my life, everything. He made it five thrusts that time before coming. Needless to say, we avoided each other like the plague after that.

  “Okay, fine. I haven’t had passionate, raw, sweaty, meaningful or meaningless sex, or whatever the hell you just said, but that just means I’m one less woman with an STD walking the streets.”

  Jean points her finger at me, “First off, I don’t have any STDs. Second, what the hell is all this ‘letting loose, new beginnings’ shit you speak of? Seriously, I’m giving you what you asked for! Don’t think too hard, Aundrea. Thinking just gets in the way of living. Take it. Now is your chance.”

  Jean mumbles something about needing the bathroom and turns around, heading that way without waiting for anyone to respond.

  I finally sit down at the table. My mind has become too foggy with Jean’s words, the music, and the alcohol. Reaching for another glass of water on the table, I start to drink.

  Thinking just gets in the way of living.

  Her words replay in my head until they sink in. Damn it, why does she always throw this kind of words back at me? I do deserve to have some fun for once.

  The waitress stops to collect our empties, and Shannon tells her we’ll take our tab, then excuses herself from the table. I’m not sure where she’s going until I watch her make her way over to the bar, and my jaw drops when I see her talking to Mr. Handsome. My Mr. Handsome!

  Wait, when did he become my Mr. Handsome?

  He’s sitting with his left side against the bar and a beer in his hand. There’s another guy sitting to his right, facing Shannon, who is standing between the two.

  Mr. Handsome starts laughing at something she said.

  My God, he is so beautiful.

  Okay, I just called a man beautiful. Yep, I’m officially drunk.

  Shannon says something else while placing her hand on his shoulder, causing both me
n to laugh again. Great, she’s flirting with them. She looks at Mr. Handsome one last time, saying something to him before smiling and turning down the hallway where the bathrooms are.

  I shouldn’t be jealous. He’s not mine. But a part of me is jealous.

  A little.

  As if he knows I’m watching him, he turns his head and meets my eyes.

  Those fucking blue eyes.

  I swallow, watching him stare back at me. I can almost feel the heat coming from his gaze. I couldn’t look away right now even if I wanted to. We stare at each other for what feels like minutes, when Jean interrupts.

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two are totally eye fucking each other right now.”

  Breaking my eyes from his, I pick up my purse and give a twenty and a ten to Jean. “I don’t know who paid for what, or how much I owe, but this should help cover the tab. The waitress is supposed to be bringing it. I’m going to the bathroom before we head out.”

  “Okay. I’ll meet you right here with Shannon.”

  Walking away from the table, I head toward the bathroom, which just happens to take me past Mr. Handsome himself.

  I don’t really have to use the bathroom. I just needed an excuse to get away from Mr. Handsome and those beautiful eyes before I do something stupid like walk over there and straddle him at the bar. What I need is to splash some water on my face and catch my breath.

  Not looking his way, I turn the corner, but I can feel his eyes burning into the back of my head.

  I’ve never—I repeat, never—picked a guy up at a bar. I wouldn’t even know the first thing about picking someone up. Am I supposed to cite some lame cheesy pick-up line? Excuse me, I’m a little short on cash. Would you mind if we shared a cab home together? Or take the bold and direct approach and just straight up ask for his number? I’m clueless when it comes to the rules of this game.

  I’m grateful when I reach the door to the ladies’ room, and there isn’t anyone around. I reach for the handle when I hear from behind me, “Not going to use the men’s room again?” I know that sexy voice.