Into Your Arms (Squad Stories #1)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron
1
Rhett
I happen to look up right when she walks in with her friends, but my eyes go immediately to her. She stands out like a lightning bolt in a dark sky. Hair so blond it's almost white, ice blue eyes, and the most perfectly shaped body, in my opinion. Enough on top and on the bottom with a sweet curve in the middle. Fucking perfect.
"Wow," my friend Jem says, noticing the group as well. My eyes are only on the cute blonde, but her friends aren't too shabby either. Normally I would have walked right up to her, bought her a drink, and worked my magic. Instead, I'm watching her from afar. Her friends are loud, they're having a good time, and damn, can they dance.
"Strippers?" Jem says, squinting and turning his head to the side as if he's trying to figure them out like a difficult equation as his floppy brown hair falls into his eyes.
I take a sip of beer and want to roll my eyes. "I don't think Maine State University would condone that many student-strippers." This entire bar is full of students, since it's close to campus and has a lax ID policy.
"You never know," he says, wiggling his eyebrows and taking a swig from his beer glass. Jem's real into craft brews right now, so he's pretty much insufferable whenever we go to a bar. Still, we've been friends since freshman year, and he's a good guy to have in your corner. He's gotten my ass out of a tight spot more than once.
The shitty lighting of the bar somehow works in her favor and makes her look . . . well, luminous, for lack of another word. I like words. Especially long ones. Especially ones I can use for beautiful girls.
She throws her head back and laughs at something the tall brunette dancing next to her says.
Fuck me.
"What're you waiting for?" Jem asks. Good question. I have no idea.
I start to get up but then plant my ass back on the barstool.
"What's wrong with you?" Jem says. This is definitely not my normal modus operandi when it comes to women. I just can't seem to go up to this one. I ignore his staring and see my moment appear when she peels off from her group and comes toward the bar.
Score. Let her come to me.
She doesn't seem to notice me as she leans over the bar to ask for a glass of water. The position pushes her chest up, and I stop myself from trying to check out the view. I don't want her to think I'm just interested in her for her tits. Sure, those are definitely great, but it's the whole package that I want.
She's tiny, probably only about five feet, but I like that, even though she's over a foot shorter than me. Shorter girls are usually the spunkiest, and I have the feeling this one is no exception.
The bartender gets her drink, and as she picks it up she turns around but stops when she sees me, her lips wrapped around the straw.
Well, fuck me again.
"Hey," I say. Her eyes go wide, as if I've said something shocking. She coughs a few times and lowers the glass.
"Um, hey," she says. It sounds like a question.
"I bet you can't guess my name," I say. Her eyebrows lift and then draw together. I know this isn't a line she's heard before, which is why I said it.
"What?"
"I said that I bet you can't guess my name. I'll give you five guesses, and if you don't get it, I buy you a drink." Her lips pull up on one side in a smirk. Well, shit, that's fucking sexy.
"And what if I can guess your name?" she says, leaning closer. Her voice is deeper than I would have thought, given her stature. I'm in so much trouble.
"Then I buy you a drink," I say, giving her a wink. Instead of smacking me, which I thought she might, she laughs just a little. I'll take it.
"I'm game." I lead her over to an empty corner of the bar. Jem gives me a thumbs-up, and I shoot him a dirty look.
"Okay, Mystery Man. My first guess is that your name is Chad," she says, leaning against the bar. I make a disgusted face.
"Are you serious? You really think my name is Chad? That's the most common name for assholes." I've had plenty of experience with Chads. One in particular beat my ass more than once in elementary school. She chuckles again and drinks from her water. I've never wanted to be a straw so much in my entire life.
"Well . . ." she says, shrugging one shoulder. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes.
"Fine, fine. How about . . . Robert? Or some variation of that?" Ugh, no.
I shake my head. She bites her bottom lip as she considers me, assessing me from head to toe. I hope I'm not found wanting.