Sort of.
“I'm Alexandra Feodorovna,” I said, smiling sweetly.
Chase's eyes flashed for a second, a smile tugging at his lips. Then, without missing a beat, he nodded, “You look damn good for someone who died by firing squad almost a hundred years ago.”
“I moisturize,” I nodded and he burst out laughing.
“This isn't going to work if you don't take it seriously,” he said after a minute.
“Sorry. It just... feels weird.”
“What does? Flirting with me? Baby, I've been inside you.”
Oh,
lord
Jesus.
Okay.
My lady bits needed to give it a rest. One sentence from him and I felt like I was ready to drag him into the bathroom and have my way with him.
“Sorry,” he smirked, “I didn't mean to get you all hot and bothered.”
“I'm not,” I insisted, trying to save at least a shred of my pride.
“Really?” he asked, his hand landing really high up on my thigh. “I could... check that out for you. Just to make sure.”
I really, really wanted him to check.
And, damn him, he knew it.
His fingers toyed with the hem of my skirt which was indecently high when I was sitting down. One of his fingers slipped upward and almost made contact with my panties.
I nearly fell off the seat.
“Okay,” he said, sitting back, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. “Sorry. I'll stop.”
“I don't want you to stop.”
Oh, my god.
I didn't sat that.
No way.
His eyes darkened, leaning closer, his mouth by my ear. “Believe me, babe, I don't want to stop either. I want to drag you out of here, throw you into my car, and watch you ride me until you're screaming my name.”
Okay.
Wow.
I pressed my thighs together hard, taking a deep breath.
“But I can't do that. Tonight, you aren't mine to have.”
Right.
I was a public fucking commodity.
I sat up straight, moving away from him.
And I was never really his. Not the way I wanted to be.
Game face on.
“Okay. So, what now? You're leaving?”
“No. I'll be here. If you need me, come get me. Or call me. I'll keep an eye on you.”
So much for my flirt training.
“If someone is really bothering you...”
“I got it, Chase.”
“Ava...”
I stood up, grabbing my martini. “I said I got it,” I said, walking over to the railing and looking down at the dance floor below, bodies writhing. Women in small circles, dancing sexually to attract the attention of men, whether they would admit it or not. Then men and women, their bodies moving together like an archaic mating ritual. The entire building was oozing sex.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Chase. He had moved to the far end of the bar, swirling his drink, occasionally glancing my way.
It wasn't long until I felt someone move in beside me, blocking out my view of Chase. I looked upward, taking in the fitted blue suit, the white shirt, the dark blue striped tie, then finally his face. He was good looking. Tall. Towering over me even in my heels. His face was broad of jaw with a strong forehead, with short dirty blonde hair, and kind brown eyes.
“You with that guy?” he asked, tilting his head in Chase's direction.
Technically, yes.
But, at the same time, completely and utterly... no.
“No,” I said, giving him, what I hoped was, a charming smile.
“So I can ask you to dance?”
Oh, god.
Not dancing.
Anything but dancing.
“Sure,” I smiled, taking Shay's advice and touching his hand which was next to mine on the railing. I brought my drink up and drained it, hoping some of the liquid bravery would hit me before we got to the dance floor.
“I'm Trip, by the way. I know,” he said, smiling easily, “it's a ridiculous name.”
“I'm Ava,” I supplied, feeling the knot in my belly loosen a little. It wasn't that bad. If that was all there was to flirting, I could totally handle it.
I ducked my head as I turned, not wanting to make eye contact with Chase for numerous reasons as Trip put a hand on my hip, steering me through the lounge and toward the stairs.
We pushed through the edge of the crowd until we were somewhere near the center and, unable to help myself, I lifted my head to look back toward the lounge. Just as another woman, blonde, pretty, breasts all but spilling out of her dress, walked up to Chase, placing a hand on his shoulder and whispering in his ear. Chase turned, tilting his head up toward her, and smiled a megawatt smile I had only gotten to see less than a handful of times.
So that was the way it was.
I felt the quick, nauseating stab of pain accompanied by the twisting sensation of jealousy. My eyes dropped, looking up at Tate.
Well, fuck Chase.
And fuck his rules.
I was three drinks in an hour later, inhibitions low, as I pressed my body into Tate's, his arms going around my back. Way too tight. And if I wasn't dealing with a nice buzz making my skin feel tingly and foreign, I would have pushed him away, freaked out and ran, anything other than sink into it.
“You're so gorgeous,” Tate murmured close to my ear.
“Thank you,” I said, swaying my hips against him.
“Ava.”
Chase.
His voice was the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dropped on me. Sober. I was suddenly so incredibly sober it was ridiculous.
I felt myself stiffen, moving to put space between me and Tate.
“She said she ain't with you, bud,” Tate said over my shoulder, looking like he was ready to defend my honor if he needed to. Which was sweet. I would have realized how sweet it was if Chase wasn't right behind me, no doubt completely disapproving of my behavior and giving me one of those looks of his.
“She was mistaken,” Chase said, his voice cool. “Ava... it's time to go.”
I felt my spine straighten. “No, I think I'm good here, Chase. Thanks for your concern. You may leave without me,” I said, not turning around.
“Ava...”
“I said go, Chase.”
And then he did.
I entertained the idea of Tate for a while, trying to push past the growing knot of anxiety inside. But soon his arms felt like a prison, his cologne smelled overpowering, the collective energy of the crowd felt stifling. And I couldn't breathe.
“You alright?” Tate asked, watching as my hand went to my throat, as my eyes got wide and panicked.
“I... I have to go...” I said, turning.
His arm closed around my arm, pulling me back, making a rush of panic rise hysterically in my throat. “Wait. How can I get in touch with you?”
I swallowed hard against the knot in my stomach as he pulled out his phone, trying to pull away gently, but his hand was like a vice. I mumbled off the number of Shay's disloyal best friend, which made him smile, wretched my arm away, and ran.
I burst out of the front doors what felt like forever later, having to push through the crushing throngs of people inside to get to the exit.
The air outside hit me, cold and comforting as I stumbled in the opposite direction of the line of people waiting to get inside.
“Ava...”
My head snapped up, looking around and finding Chase leaning against the wall of the club, looking tired. His eyes fell on my face, softening immediately. “Hey... babe...”
Why did he have to be so fucking nice?
I mean, even after being a jerk.
It wasn't right.
It was causing all kinds of conflicting feelings inside.
And I wasn't in any condition to fight them.
So they surfaced. Through the panic. Tears blurred my eyes and I turned away again, walking in the other direction, away from him.
His arm wrapped around my hips before I had even taken two steps, turning me, steering me away from the crowd. “It's alright,” he murmured, close to my ear as I blindly followed him as he moved me around the building. “Take a breath, Ava,” he instructed and I tried, but it got caught in my throat. “Hey,” he said, stopping, grabbing my face and pressing me against the back of the club, “look at me.” My eyes slid up slowly. “Breathe.” I sucked in a shaky breath, feeling like sulfur, burning my nose and throat. “You're okay,” he said, his eyes willing me to believe him. “I'm right here.”
The tears slipped over and I leaned forward, resting my head against my spot, taking another breath, breathing him in. His arms went slowly around me, hesitant to trap me. But the effect was like a tranquilizer to my system. Like a warm blanket over my brain.
I blinked the tears furiously away, more angry at myself than I had been in a long time. Giving myself a panic attack because I was trying to be spiteful was so incredibly immature. And the plan backfired in the worst way possible, not only did I freak out and run away, but I broke down in front of Chase. Again. I clung to Chase. Again. I let Chase fix me. Again.
I needed to learn to fix myself.
He wasn't going to be around.
I couldn't run to him anymore.
I needed to stop leaning on him.
I straightened, pulling away, wiping my cheeks before I looked up.
“You alright, baby?”
“Yeah, I … it was too crowded and loud and hot. I... couldn't fight it anymore.”
“You should have left with me.”
I took a breath, dropping my eyes to his collar because I couldn't lie to his face. “I was having a good time.”
I saw the muscle in his jaw start to tick again. “What did you say to your... friend?”
“I gave him a fake number and just... ran.”
“A fake number, huh?” he asked, sounding almost amused. “I'm assuming that way Shay's idea.”