Ruined: Loving An Alpha Male(8)

She clapped her hands together and smiled.

“Buttons by the Pussy Cat Dolls.”

I shook my head. “Mimi, I don’t know that one. Remember? You were supposed to show me the routine, and you didn’t get a chance.”

Typically when WDMD practiced, they did it at our place. I either helped with choreography or made up the entire routines, so I knew most of the songs they would perform. Mimi frowned and placed her shoulder-length, straight black hair behind her ear. I sighed, knowing that me doing this means a lot to her. I have to admit that, when I do sing with them, I have a ball. I completely escape who I am and become someone I only dream of being.

“Why don’t you guys do that song, and then we all can do a Rihanna song.”

I watched her smile and get excited.

“Great idea. I’ll call Tiny to have her buy you an outfit too.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t say we are going to be half-dressed again.”

“Of course not. This is my brother we’re talking about. It’s weird enough I’m dancing for a bunch of horny twenty-somethings. Believe me, I have some dignity.”

I pushed her out of the back room.

“Please, girl. You know you love all attention. Male or female, it makes no difference to you.”

She laughed. “You got that right.”



****





The rest of the night grew extremely busy. It’s like everyone on the South Side anticipated our performance. I rarely see this many people in here. I found myself so swamped with drinks and men hitting on me that I didn’t even notice a pair of eyes on me.

What I did notice is the goose bumps that were forming on my arms and the increase of my heart rate. This feeling has happened twice before. So when my eyes searched the crowd in front of me, they met those familiar ice blue eyes and an unbelievable smile.

Suddenly at that moment I heard nothing else as I moved towards him. When I got close, he simply smiled broader, and I couldn’t help but smile too.

I said, which I tell you right now was not my finest moment, “Are you following me?”

See? What did I tell you?

He wasn’t fazed by my fumbling self. He leaned in closer to me so he could be heard over the jukebox blaring some rock song I’ve never heard before.

He said, “If I told you I was, would you give me your number?”

I blushed and shook my head. He shrugged.

“Well, I guess I’ll settle for just a Scotch net. And none of that cheap shit.”

I frowned and shook my head. “Never,” I said.

Then I smiled and turned from his gaze. Lou kept a stash of expensive Scotch behind the bar, so I reached for that and poured him a glass. I passed the glass to him, and he gave me his card.

“Keep that open for me, angel.”

I nodded and tried not to show how just those simple words and that smile of his was effecting me. I went back to work, trying to concentrate on my patrons and not his eyes that seemed to see right through me. I was glad at first when some blonde starting talking to him because it kept the focus off me. But then I started to feel a little jealous.

Really, Max? How the hell can you be jealous of something that doesn’t belong to you? I asked myself, shaking my head at the notion.

I continued to busy myself, trying not to pay attention to him. But he was making it really hard. Even though everyone in the bar could tell this blonde was throwing herself at him, I kept feeling his eyes on me—undressing me, unhinging me. I saw him motion for me, and I walked over to him again, trying to control myself. But as I got closer to him, my heart started to beat faster…damn him.

I smiled instinctively, but realized at that moment that the smile he gave me was totally genuine and honest. I felt myself completely relax. I poured him more Scotch.

Noticing that the blonde was gone, I asked, “So are you out by yourself tonight?”

I saw his eyebrows raise with my question, and I immediately realized my implication.

He smiled and said loud enough for me to hear without moving closer to him, “No, I’m waiting on a friend of mine.”

“Oh, so you have a hot date then? Huh?”

‘Damn, Max. Really?’

It’s so unnerving how I’m acting around him. I shook my head slightly, hearing the disapproval pulsing through in my voice. I looked in his eyes and saw them drenched in amusement. Wait! Is he blushing? He looked down at his glass first, as if he was thinking about how to answer me.

He then smiled shyly, and said, “I wouldn’t call it a hot date.”

I nodded, “Oh, I see.”

Take a deep breath, Max. Act natural. You are, after all, in a relationship. It shouldn’t matter if this guy is on a date or not.

“So are you guys going to hit the bars along South Street?”