“I met him a month or so ago, right before you moved back. One of those times I got all weak and called Trevor and—”
I looked away from the stage and arched a brow. “You slept with Trevor? Again?” I couldn’t understand her. She cried for two months straight when he dumped her, so why she continued to throw herself on the altar was beyond me.
Huffing, Meg rolled her eyes. “Don’t judge me, and this isn’t about Trevor—”
“He’s a delinquent.”
“I know he is, but he’s…” A smile danced over her lips and her cheeks blushed. She was in love with him, even though she refused to admit it. And I must say, sometimes the only way you can live with things is by denying the truth. “Anyway,” she says. “They’re friends and I can promise you, Noah Greyson is just a dirty little player. Nice to look at, stupid to get involved with.”
“Like Trevor...”
“Yes”—she rolled her eyes again on a huff—“like Trevor.”
I glanced back at the stage, watching the ring on his thumb glint in the light. “He could be the nicest guy in the world.”
“I promise you he’s not, but suit yourself. Just remember he’s a whore, a player. Another Max Summers...” Meg sang beside my ear.
That should have been enough to make me stop watching, to make the anxious knot in my stomach turn to one of disgust. But it wasn’t. I don’t know if anything would have been.
Smiling, Noah stared out at the girls hoarding the stage, and then his eyes honed in on me. He smirked. My heart did that stupid flip-flop thing you always read about in romance novels, and as foolish as I felt for it, I couldn’t make it stop. It kept going. Pound. Pound... pound. Pound. Pound… pound.
“Yep,” Meg said. “Pretty voice. Pretty face. Pretty, pretty lies.”
“Noted,” I whispered. “Stay away from the guy with the pretty voice.”
I was like a deer in headlights. Frozen. Unable to look away from the guy I was told I should stay away from. There was heartbreak written all over his smile, but, at that moment, I swear it felt like no one else existed in that crowded bar aside from he and I.
Stay away from the guy with the pretty voice…
7
Noah
The last notes of the song faded, and I adjusted the guitar in my lap. Drunk people bumped into each other, spilling their drinks all over the place.
Someone shouted: “Sing Sweet Home Alabama!”
I laughed into the mic. “Now, y’all aren’t drunk enough for that shit yet.”
Half the bar raised their drinks into the air and hooted. The girls at the front of the stage grinned, batting their eyes. I strummed over the chords, debating which song to play next, and somehow, I happened to catch two girls walk in. The blonde turned toward the stage and I immediately recognized her. Meg McKinney. One of the girls Trevor kept on call. He told me if I ever needed an easy lay, he was more than happy to give her number to me. I declined.
My gaze drifted to the girl beside her— I’ll be damned. I squinted at the brunette wearing the sundress and cowgirl boots. Sure enough, she was the pretty girl from the church. Maybe I had her all wrong. Hell, if she’s with Meg, maybe she’s not too good for me.
I plucked out a few notes while I watched her cross the bar. Meg said something to her and she smiled. Damn. That smile. I strummed a chord. “How about,” I cleared my throat, and she glanced up at the stage. “How about ‘I Met a Girl’?” I said, smiling. That song seemed appropriate, and I hoped it would make her swoon.
The girls at the front of the stage squealed when I played the first few beats even though I was paying no attention to them. I was too focused on the brunette in the loose-fitting sundress that left everything to the imagination. She swayed in beat with the music, and God, she was the epitome of innocence, like a heartbroken girl in a country music video. What the hell is she doing with Meg?
When I finished the song, I propped my guitar against the brick wall and hopped down from the stage. I didn’t even take three steps before some random girl shoved a shot glass at me. The scent of cheap vodka blew across my face when she leaned in to my ear. “Your voice is amazing,” she whispered, kissing my cheek. She wobbled, struggling to stand up straight. Girls like that were easy, and, on most nights, I preferred a challenge. A chase. Someone that looked too innocent to be with the likes of me.
I thanked the hopeful fuck for the drink and excused myself, making my way to the table the girl in the sundress was sitting at. Alone.
Smoothing my hand over my shirt, I stopped next to the booth.
“Hope you liked the song,” I said. “I’m Noah.” I held out my hand and smiled, hoping my dimples would pop. For some reason, the dimples always seemed to work.
Her gaze fell to my waiting palm. The faintest smirk curled her pink lips and there was a moment where I thought she may tell me to fuck off.
“Hannah,” she said. “And if you’re trying to come over here to sweet talk me into sleeping with you, it’s not going to happen…” She nodded to the bar. “I’m not one of them.”
And first punch thrown. I turned to look at the group of women staring, whispering, then I placed my palm to my chest, feigning a frown. “I’m offended you’d think so little of me.”
“Mmhmm.”
“What are you drinking?” I asked, tapping the rim of her glass.
“Coke.”
“Huh, I had you pegged for one of those girls who liked frou-frou drinks.”
Most girls would have laughed at that. Not Hannah. She subtly cocked a brow, glaring at me with her big brown eyes. There was something deep about her eyes. Something that threatened to suck me into a black hole—and did. “So, Hannah, why is a pretty girl like you sitting all alone at a bar?” I knew it was lame, but sometimes a lame-ass line was the best thing to throw at a girl. Besides, I was never above a mercy fuck.
“Wow,” she laughed. “Is that the best line you have?”
My cheeks heated and just as I opened my mouth to defend myself, an annoyed groan floated over my shoulder.
“Jesus, the line to the women’s room is—”
I slowly turned around to find Meg right behind me, glaring. “Oh God,” she mumbled as she rolled her eyes and shoved me out of the way. “Of course, I walk off and he comes over.” She sunk into the booth, took a sip of her drink, and glared at me.
Of course she was going to try and start some shit. My jaw ticked. “Haven’t seen you at Trevor’s in a while.” I shot a smart-ass grin at her.
“Hannah, why is Noah Greyson sitting with you? Did we not talk about this?”
“Meg,” Hannah groaned. “Just drink your Fireball and hush.”
I laughed because I knew nothing worth a damn would have come from Meg’s mouth. “And just what did you talk about?”
“About how you’re not good enough for my friend here.” She smirked before slamming most of her drink back.
“Meg,” Hannah growled, moving around in the booth like she had a rat crawling up her leg. “Be nice.”
“Ow!” Meg said. My guess was that Hannah had kicked her under the table. And that was my kind of girl. “Whatever, like I said, he may be pretty”—she pointed at me—“but he’s bad news. Bad boy with a bad reputation.”
“I take offense to that!” I said I did, but I really didn’t. Girls love the bad boy. They all want to be the one to tame them.
“If he were that bad,” Hannah said, “I’m sure my daddy would have tried to save him by now.” She smiled before taking the last sip of her drink and pushing the glass to the side. All I could think was that whoever her daddy was, he sure as shit wouldn’t want me around her.
Wham. The table wobbled when some drunk girl stumbled into it, catching herself on the edge with her hands. She blew the hair out of her face when she glanced up. “Noah Greyson!” She swatted the rest of the hair from her face. I had no clue who the hell she was. “I’m a huge fan,” she slurred.
Meg groaned. “And now he’s got fans. Fuck my life…”
“Appreciate that,” I said.
“God, you’re hot,” the drunk girl said, grabbing my arm and squeezing. “Look at these muscles!”
I pulled away from her hold and casually slipped my arm around Hannah’s shoulder.
Drunk Girl swayed on her feet. “You’ve got a… girlfriend?” She frowned and one eye slightly crossed. “Well, that’s a new load of shit.” The girl mean-mugged Hannah. “So, is what I hear true? Is he amazing in bed?”
“Oh,” Hannah cleared her throat. “Well, I mean”—she shifted uncomfortably in the seat.
This is too good. I took full advantage of the situation and cupped Hannah’s soft cheek, sweeping my thumb over her jaw before I slowly dragged it across her bottom lip. There was a slight hitch in her breath. A pause in the rising of her chest— all the cues I needed to know I had her. I leaned in and the soft scent of amber and lilacs lifted from her hair. I could have gotten drunk on that girl.
“Oh,” I whispered, my gaze dropping to her lips, “she never knows what’s coming.” God, I want to kiss her.