Looking around, I tried to redirect their attention. “Okay, ladies, enough talk. Scope out the keg. I hope you brought your big girl panties. You’re gonna need ’em.” My mouth slid into a sly grin.
Out of necessity, I’d learned a long time ago how to divert people’s attention. It was crucial when they pried a little too deep. The bat of an eyelash and a simple look seemed to enamor them, and I needed it that way. I had it down to a science. I only wished I could see myself through the same eyes they did. I was one big mirage—a house of mirrors. I could keep you running in circles, seeing a million different faces of myself, but none of them were the real, flesh and blood, true-to-life me. They were all different reflections of the pretty face I was forced to look at every day, never revealing the ugliness that lay beneath it.
Dirt billowed up in dusty clouds as we approached the rowdy crowd. Fun times. I waved my hands in front of my face to disperse the dirty smoke, taking an inventory of my surroundings. Sweaty guys showing off six-packs they had—or didn’t have. Cackling girls trying to one-up each other to get noticed. People participating in games in random quadrants of the park while others huddled around a cluster of kegs nestled beside a set of trees.
Bullseye!
I draped my hair over one shoulder and picked at the dirty-blonde ends, zeroing in on the mind-numbing liquid. Beside the keg, a small group of girls was circled around one guy. They stared starry-eyed, taking turns hanging from his sculpted bicep and vying for his attention. I rolled my eyes. They could have him. I just needed a drink to take the edge off and help me blend. I was familiar with guys like him—gorgeous, suave, and toting that cocky, I-can-have-any-girl-I-want attitude.
Normal, I reminded myself. This is normal. Act fucking normal!
His eyes lifted from the girls and settled on me as he tried to hold their conversation. I recognized that I’m-coming-to-get-you look. It turned my palms slimy. Taking a deep breath, I flipped an internal switch, turning off my inhibitions.
His mint-green eyes flicked to my fingers as I grabbed the nozzle at the top of the silver cylinder. I pumped the top as fast as I could, trying to pour my drink and get out of there.
I was too slow.
Not more than two-seconds later, cocky Mr. Perfect stepped away from the girls as one of them was mid-sentence, and ambled to my side. His hand was just about to cover mine—to do the honors of pouring—when I slipped in my haste, sending the liquid down the outside of the cup and over my jittery fingers. I shook off my hand, expelling an exasperated sigh.
“Didn’t mean to make you nervous.” He flashed a dazzling smile that probably got him laid most nights a week.
I didn’t want to seem like a freak, and the last thing I wanted was to give away my weakness, so I did the first thing that came to mind. “You don’t make me nervous, but now you owe me one.” I wrapped my fingers around his red solo cup, pulling it from his grasp. I curled my lips and took a sip.
His tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip before he bit down, his pupils dilating a fraction. It sent a warm flutter to my already nervous belly, and I jutted my eyes away, feeling self-conscious. The looks on our bystanders’ faces were enough to make my heart race. I didn’t want to be on this guy’s radar, but now it looked like I’d just placed myself in the dead center of it.
“I would’ve poured you your own.” My gaze flickered back to his widened stare.
”Maybe you should’ve let me pour my own.” I bit back through an obviously phony smile.
His eyes danced with excitement. “An independent girl. I like that. What’s your name, Little Miss Forward?”
I ignored the prickles that crawled up my spine and looked at him over the rim of the cup. “Evangelina.” God, get me out of here.
He leaned on a tree trunk and crossed one leg over the other, getting comfortable. “I’m Eric. Do you make a habit of taking what doesn’t belong to you, Evangelina?”
I shrugged nonchalantly as if I wasn’t trembling inside. “I was thirsty. You had a drink. Opportunity knocked.”
Eric’s smile broadened, a gleam radiating as he studied me. “You’re new,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“I am.” I scanned the crowd for my friends. I had to bail, and quick. My eyes found Eric’s one last time.
A confident smile spread across his handsome, yet boyish face. “Well, then you’re in luck. I’m an old dog here. It would be my honor to show you the ropes.” He straightened and slipped a heavy arm around my shoulders in an I’ll-be-in-your-pants-by-sundown gesture.
Last straw.
I jerked forward, completing a combination duck-sidestep, and separated myself from him. Tipping my head back, I emptied the remnants of the cup down my throat. “Thanks for the drink, Eric, but you’re really not my type. Maybe I’ll see ya around.”