Somehow I doubt it. This guy is a charmer, I can just tell by the look in his eyes. He’s probably been in more pants than he will ever remember. He likes Dani. I’m wearing my cut-to-your-ass jean shorts. They look worn and frayed, but I just bought them last week. I have on a hot pink tank that reads, ‘Smooth As Tennessee Whiskey’, Jimmy Choo stiletto heels that are too fucking tight and silver bangles on one arm that jingle when I walk. My hair is a mess despite pulling it back and my face has no makeup on, save for Dani’s signature red lipstick. Yeah, he likes what he sees. My heart kicks up yet again, whether it’s because the panic attack is getting closer to the point of no return, or the way the man in front of me makes my body tingle—I’m not sure. I shouldn’t like the way he is looking at me, I shouldn’t take pride in it. I find I do, and that’s just weird. What would the biker think if he knew I’d rather be home wearing a sweater and sweat pants? What would he think if I did what I really wanted to do with these fuck-me shoes and throw them in the garbage?
He puts his hand on my shoulders to steady me, which wasn’t needed. I might be tall, and these shoes might be dangerous and very conducive to falling, but I’m not going to. Shit, I dance in shoes higher than this. The only thing surprising me at this moment is how tall the man is. He’s taller than me—even in my heels.
His touch sends heat through me and immediately my body coils in fear. I stiffen my back to hide that reaction and do what I trained myself to do when I created Dani, show no fear and be a badass.
“You going to let me go so I can get in the store stud, or stand there and eye-fuck me all day?” I ask, full of attitude. I want to cringe, but I ignore the impulse, Dani wouldn’t give a fuck and this is who I am now. So I disregard everything, including the sweat trickling down my back and the wave of nausea in my stomach.
“Sorry, Darlin’, didn’t mean to mow you down,” he says and that country boy accent and good ole’ southern boy charm oozes off of him.
I like it. I like it too much. I shake my head, more at myself than at Biker-Cowboy. Then, I move around him. He lets me go and I’m through the door and scanning for the restroom area when his voice stops me again.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
For a minute I don’t turn around, instead I close my eyes and try to still the thoughts spinning in my head. I’ve got to get away. I look over my shoulder, but even as I do, I’m aware that part of my mask has slipped. I’m too close to the edge.
“Today, I’m not even sure,” I reply, hating how sad my answer comes out. I push through the store, ignoring the small crowd of people and hunt out the restroom.
Thankfully it’s one of those single restrooms and completely empty. I lock the door and lean against it for a minute. I need to catch my breath. I count quietly and get to fifty before my pulse begins to slow. I reach in the pocket of my jeans and pull out a small pill case. I cup water out of the sink, using it to wash down the pill.
I’m not sure how long I’m in there, but it’s nowhere near as long as I want it to be. I force myself to come out of hiding and get the items that Nicole asked for. When I make it back outside, Nic is talking to one of the bikers. He is definitely delicious eye candy, and very busy looking at my girl. He’s staring at her like she’s an all-night taco bar and he’s the stoner who smoked blunt after blunt and has a serious case of the munchies. Normally, I’d be all for Nic letting her hair down, but this guy screams danger—even more so because he’s starting to look like he’s going to strip and bang her right here in broad daylight against the gas pumps. Time for Dani to move in, divert, make them laugh and get us the hell out of dodge.
“Damn, Nic! When I said I wanted chocolate, you didn’t have to go all out, bitch.” I say it loud and my body instantly wants to crawl away and hide as eyes shift to me. I hate it, but I stay the course. “Hello there, Tall Dark and Do-me-all-over.” The biker pulls his eyes briefly away from Nic and looks me over, but I see the lack of heat when he looks at me. He really is wound up over my girl. I like that. If he didn’t have this look that said, I-kill-people-eat-them-for-dinner-and-spit-out-their-bones, I’d even encourage Nic. Trouble is, he has that look.
“Dani meet Stud, Stud meet Dani. I popped his cherry while you were in the store,” Nic says walking around to the driver’s side of the car.
The guy I should no longer be thinking about and his crew have been watching it all and laugh loudly. I look over towards them and he isn’t joining in the laughter. He is watching me…closely. For a brief space in time, our eyes lock. Everyone and everything fades away. I could get lost in the way he’s looking at me even from across a damned parking lot. This cannot happen. I laugh, open the car door, trying to be careful not to hit Nic’s boy toy and get in. He closes my door, but his eyes are zeroed in on Nic. Shit, I can almost feel the heat coming off of him, he is seriously in lust over Nic. I spare a glance at her. As usual, Nic doesn’t see it—she’s oblivious. Her parents have worked her over so much she doesn’t think any man would want her.
The man and Nicole banter back and forth as he leans on my car door. I don’t pay any attention. In my head, I’m still counting backwards. I try to concentrate on the sunshine, the color of my fingernail polish, anything but the panic I can still feel inside. It’s better and subsiding. Still, I wish we could just get out of here.