That Girl is Mine - Part One (3 page)

“Here they come,” Roxy points out, as Josh and Avery spot us waiting for them out the front of
Vibe.
“That Josh is a good looking man. Avery scrubs up really nice too – she’s missing some artwork on her shoulder, I think.”

Smiling, I nod in agreement, watching them as they move closer to us. Josh is wearing a pair of dark jeans and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. And Avery, well, she just about takes my breath away. I mean, she’s pretty normally, but dressed up for the club she’s…she’s…well, she’s breathtaking.

She has on this fitted green dress that doesn’t have any sleeves. The bust area is that love heart shape, so it’s pushing her tits up and out, so it’s really hard not to look. There a matching belt just below her waist and the dress continues down, hugging her figure until just below her ass were there’s a row of ruffled material that kind of flares out. She’s in heels, so she’s about the same height as Josh right now. He walks along, smiling like he’s the luckiest guy in the world to have his arm resting around her slender waist, and I find myself thinking that maybe he is, because there’s something about her…

“Glad you guys made it,” I say, nodding to Josh, while only glancing at Avery so my eyes don’t get stuck on her.

Fuck she looks hot tonight.

I hold my hand out, gesturing that everyone should head inside. We’re in a group of nine, and Roxy hangs back at the rear with me. “I saw that look,” she says so only I can hear. “It was hungry.”

I frown but don’t respond, uncomfortable in this conversation. But she continues anyway. “Just remember who she belongs to.”

“I’m not stupid, Roxy. I know. OK? She just…took me by surprise,” I say, not really sure how to explain what it is about her.

“Prettier than you expected?”

I shake my head. “It’s not that. It’s just
she
isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

I watch as Avery looks up at Josh and laughs about something he says. He reaches a hand up and gently moves her long auburn hair behind her shoulder then lowers his head to press a kiss to the soft skin of her shoulder. She smiles and looks at him with adoration in her eyes. They look so damn in love that it causes my heart to ache.

“I don’t really know. I guess…I just didn’t expect
them
to be like this. They’re so fucking perfect together.”

Roxy shrugs. “They’re in love,” she says, as if that simple remark should explain everything. But it doesn’t. I’ve seen people in love before, and normally I don’t give a shit. What is it about these two being in love that has me tied up in knots?

As we enter the club, a strobe light goes off and makes everything appear to be moving in slow motion. Then Lana Del Rey’s voice starts singing
Summertime Sadness
within a dance remix. I look at Josh and smile. I normally dislike club music, but if they’re mixing things like this, I can definitely get a little more excited about tonight.

He grins and nods, allowing me to drag him straight to the dance floor. We push through the crowd, and settling in to a gap, we begin to move with all the other bouncing bodies, pressed up against each other, the base vibrating within our chests, and the scent of artificial smoke and warm bodies filling our noses. The colored lights flash, and Josh places his hands on my hips as he lets me do my thing. I’m a dancer at heart – it’s what I was studying at Duke. My preference is contemporary, but I’m trained in other styles as well. So as long as the music is good, I’ll find a way to move to it. And the music here is good – it’s really good.

“I think I love it here,” I yell into Josh’s ear.

“The club or California?”

“Both. I’m just happy with you.”

He grins and slides his hands into my hair, bringing me to him for a kiss. It’s deep and passionate, and it has my heart beating so fast that even the bass isn’t registering in my body anymore.

“I’m happy with you too. I’m glad you came with me,” he says when he pulls away.

“Me too.” Reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, moving again to the beat of the music as his hands slide down my back and grip my ass. He gives it a squeeze and presses my body close to his. I lift my head and laugh at his playfulness, but suddenly I stop when my eyes somehow find Dylan watching us from the bar area. My stomach flips (am I embarrassed?) I look away quickly, and when I chance a look back, he’s not there anymore, and I wonder if perhaps I imagined it.

For some reason, I now have a nervous feeling rolling around in my stomach, and I slide my fingers into the base of Josh’s hair, holding him closer in comfort. He shifts, moving me so I’m looking at him. ‘I love you’, he mouths in the noise of the club, and I smile, my nervous feeling melting away as this beautiful man shows me his heart and kisses me while we dance, in the middle of a sea of people.

***

After a good hour of dancing, Josh and I decide that it’s time for a drink. Pushing our way to the bar, we see Roxy and her husband George sitting at a table with two other people I don’t know. They wave us over, and I tell Josh to go and say hi while I get the drinks – it’s too hard to hold a conversation in here, and he’s a better listener than I am anyway.

“Having fun?” a male voice says in my ear, as I wait in line at the bar. My first reaction is to stiffen, but then I realize I know the voice and turn around to find a very intense looking Dylan.

“I am. You don’t look like you’re having a great time though.”

He shrugs. “I’m too cool to look like I’m having fun.”

“Well, you should loosen up a little. You want a drink?” I ask, as I step forward to the bar.

“Sure, grab me a rum and coke.”

Nodding, I lean forward and order the same for myself, and a beer for Josh, tapping my hands on the counter to beat of the music while I wait for them.

“You know, that’s a very short dress,” Dylan comments after a moment’s pause, looking downward to my bare thighs before quickly before meeting my eyes.

“Not compared to a lot of girls out there. But that’s cool, I’ve got little dancing shorts on underneath. So no one’s getting up in my junk,” I reply with a laugh, kicking my hip up dramatically, causing the little ruffles around the base of my dress to shift. The bartender places the drinks in front of me, and I think I hear Dylan letting out a bit of a chuckle. I reach into my purse for my money and frown when the bartender is already serving the next person. “He didn’t take my money!”

Dylan smiles. He’s even more handsome when he smiles (did I seriously just think Dylan is handsome? Who uses
handsome
these days?).

“How is that a bad thing?”

“Because I feel like I’m stealing.”

Laughing, he picks up my drink and hands it to me. “It’s fine. You’re on my tab.”

“What? Oh. No. Let me pay you back. I don’t want to drink away your money.”

“Consider it a ‘Welcome to California’ drink, Rusty.” He smiles again and picks up his own drink and Josh’s…hang on, what did he just call me?

“Rusty?” His twinkling gaze flicks to my long red hair where I have it twisted over my shoulder to alleviate the heat. “Oh, a redhead joke, I get it – har har.” I roll my eyes, wondering if there will ever be a day that I’m known for something other than the color of my hair.

He leans in close to my ear. “It’s not a joke. I quite like your hair.” His voice sends a chill through me – in a good way. I take a sip of my drink as I try to think of something witty to say in return.

All I can come up with is, “Well…so do I.” It’s as lame as fuck, but I punctuate the comment by snatching the bottle of beer from his hand before I turn to head back to Josh. Then I stop, feeling bad for the way I just reacted and turn back around.

He’s grinning widely, obviously amused by me. Rolling my eyes, I smile too then I hold up my hands and nod to thank him for the drinks. He nods in return and leans up against the bar. It’s a nice moment, and I’d like to consider as a stepping stone to me learning to get along with Josh’s oldest friend, except it all gets ruined when this blonde girl in the tightest dress I’ve ever seen, launches herself at him and attaches her mouth to his face like a leech trying to suck out his soul. My mouth falls open and I almost drop the drinks I’m holding. I really wasn’t expecting that.

“Hey, you OK?” Josh asks, appearing at my side.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. I got your beer,” I say, smiling and handing him his drink, trying desperately to stop myself from turning back to the scene I was just witnessing at the bar. But, it’s like a car crash and I can’t seem to stop myself, and it’s even worse than it was before. “Oh god, does he always do that?” I ask as I watch Dylan openly groping the woman’s ass, as she rolls herself against him like she’s having sex standing up.

Josh laughs and puts his arm around my shoulder. “Pretty much. He’s always been a player.” He turns me away and guides me toward the table. “Come on, we’ve saved you a seat.”

“This bed is so comfortable. Maybe we could become bed people – give up all our dreams and do nothing but nap and make love,” I moan on Monday morning. It's 5:30 in the morning, and since Dylan hasn't been home since we went out on Friday night, this is the most alone time Josh and I’ve had since we started dating in my first year of college (we literally ran into each other on campus, smacking our foreheads together because neither of us was watching what we were doing. That sparked a conversation, which sparked a friendship, and within a few months, it sparked a romance. We've been together ever since).

Our relationship hasn't always been easy. To save on dorm fees, I lived at home with mom, and Josh was in the boy’s dorm with a real jerk of a roommate. My mother wasn't comfortable with him staying over, and on campus, Josh’s roommate wouldn’t stop staring at my tits. So our intimacy had to be creatively well timed, which of course kept things exciting, but it was rare that we got to sleep in the same bed. Even when we did it was squished together in a twin – cosy, but not the most comfortable.

Josh leans over and kisses me, softly, slowly, inhaling as his lips entwine with mine. “Don't tempt me,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss, his breathing a little faster than it was a moment ago.

I shift my naked body closer his and slide my hand down, finding his morning erection. “But I love to tempt you,” I whisper, as I lightly stroke it.

He groans lightly, his eyes closing at my touch. “It's my first day, I can't be late.”

“You won’t be late,” I murmur against his lips, gripping and stroking him a little harder.

“Mmmm,” he moans before he shifts beside me, gripping my thigh and dragging me across the bed so I’m underneath him. I let out a squeal as he leans down and scratches his morning stubble against the tender skin of my neck and nibbles on my ear. “Minx.”

I giggle as he sits back and positions himself at my opening, teasing my arousal with the tip of his cock. Then he pushes in, and I let out a moan as he fills me, inch by inch, thrusting his hips back and forth, over and over, until we’re both crying out in satisfaction.

Out of breath, he leans down and kisses me one last time. “Now I really need to get out of this bed before I really am late for work,” he says, before withdrawing from me and heading to the shower to get ready. I look at the clock, seeing that it’s almost ten after six. He needs to be at the hospital by seven, so I quickly get up and wrap my dark gray satin robe around my naked body and head down to the kitchen to prepare him some breakfast to go, to make up for jumping his bones when he should have been getting ready.

As I'm pottering about, the front door opens and closes, and I turn to see Dylan, looking like a male model in a fitted black t-shirt a pair of light colored jeans. I wonder where he got his change of clothes…

Upon seeing me, a strange look crosses his face before he drops his eyes and clears his throat, but as he approaches, he looks to me again and his features are even, so I think that maybe I imagined it and just feel a little self conscious being caught out in my robe. I tighten the sash.

“Hey,” he says, nodding at me as he walks to the other side of the counter and drops his keys on top of a pile of unopened mail.

“Hey,” I say back with a smile, trying to hide the fact that when I look at him, all I can see is the way he was kissing that girl at the club (Is it hot in here?). “Toast?”

He shrugs, and reaches up to pull at his blond strip of hair so it stands up a little. “Sure,” he says, sitting down on the stool as if he’s at a diner.

I put a plate in front of him, and hand over two of the four pieces that just popped out of the toaster, and as he butters them, I drop in an extra couple for me, before I ready the other two slices for Josh and place them on a napkin. Then I fill a travel mug with freshly brewed coffee, sugar and milk, screwing the lid on just as I hear Josh trotting down the stairs.

“Oh, hey, buddy,” he says with a smile when he sees Dylan sitting at the counter. “Good weekend?”

“Yeah, man, I'm sorry, I should’ve been here for your first weekend back, but you know how it is…”

He tilts his head to the side as if he's pleading for understanding, and I wonder if he's being vague about what he was doing because I'm in the room, or if he's just one of those people who doesn't talk about what he does when he goes out all night.

“Don't sweat it, it was good to relax and settle in. Maybe we can do something again on my next night off.”

“Sounds perfect,” Dylan says, as he takes a bite of his toast and nods when I offer him coffee after I’ve poured mine.

“Is this for me?” Josh asks, pointing to the toast in the napkin.

“Sure is,” I smile, picking up his travel mug and handing it to him. “This is for you too.”

He slides his arms around my waist and kisses me, murmuring, “How did I manage to land a girl like you?”

“Just lucky I guess,” I tease, reaching up to straighten the navy tie he’s wearing with his white dress shirt. He looks so professional when he’s cleanly shaven with his brown hair styled neatly. “You'll do great today.” I glance at Dylan, half expecting him, as a friend of Josh's, to have something reassuring to say. But instead he has his eyes down, and he's more focused on eating and drinking coffee than he is on his friend. My toast pops out of the toaster.

“I hope so. I'll call you when I can.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He presses another quick kiss to my lips then with his breakfast and coffee in hand, he leaves for his first day, saying goodbye to Dylan on his way.

“Go save some kid’s life,” Dylan calls after him then the door closes, and I'm here alone with a man I barely know, naked expect for some smooth satin, tied by a flimsy sash. I glance at my cooked toast longingly, my stomach grumbling loudly.

“I might go up and get ready too,” I mumble, suddenly feeling way under dressed.

“Your toast will go cold,” he comments, getting up and grabbing a plate. He places the pieces of toast on the white surface and holds it out to me. “And I just heard your stomach growl. Come on, I won’t bite you.”

Conceding, I tighten the sash on my robe again then walk toward him, adding butter and jelly to my toast before taking it to the dining table with my cup of coffee. I barely take a bite before Dylan pulls out the chair opposite to me and sits down with his breakfast as well.

“Good weekend?” he asks.

“It was. Your house is…nice.”

“Nice?”

“Interesting.”

He laughs and sits back in his chair. “It was my grandmother’s. I just took down her personal stuff and kept the rest as it was. I’m not much of a decorator, and I’m really not here much so...” He shrugs.

“Why aren’t you here much?” I ask, innocently at first, but then I realize what a stupid question that was and wince. “Don’t answer that,” I add, holding up my hand as he chuckles at my now red face.

We sit in silence for a moment before a nagging question forces it’s way out of my mouth. “So, that girl who was all over you on Friday night, is that who you spent the weekend with – is she your girlfriend or current…whatever she is…or…or do you…” I pause, realizing how naïve I must sound.

He folds his hands across his chest and eyes me curiously. “Spit it out.”

I shake my head. “This is dumb. I shouldn’t even be asking…I just…”

“You haven’t met anyone like me before, have you?”

Looking down, I pull the crust off my quickly cooling toast. “I guess you could say I’ve lived a fairly sheltered life.”

“You’re sheltered? Growing up in New York?”

I shrug. “My mom wouldn’t let me out much.”

He leans forward, peering into my face, his green eyes narrowing as they assess me. It causes me to fidget in my seat. It’s like he’s pulling information out of me without either of us speaking – as if he’s learning about me in the silence – it’s disconcerting.

“He used to be just like me,” he states suddenly, his rich voice breaking through the silence.

I frown. “Who did?”

“Josh. He and I used to be the bad boys in high school – a new chick every weekend.”

My face burns, and I feel my stomach start to turn (Josh is only the second man I’ve been with, the first being my prom date and a colossal error in judgment).

“I didn’t know that,” I reply, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“You haven’t had that talk yet?”

I shake my head, not understanding what he means. But he elaborates. “You know? The one where you ask him how many and he asks you. He’ll get you to go first so he can adjust his number so it isn’t much bigger than yours?”

“Why would he lie about it?”

“Because he probably doesn’t remember exactly how many.”

Suddenly feeling very defensive, I shake my head and stand from the table quickly, tipping my chair over in the process. I lean down to pick it up as I fight the tears that are burning behind my eyes. “Why are you being like this?”

He leans forward again and studies me with those assessing eyes of his, looking right through me like he’s searching for something. “Because I don’t get it. Why would a guy like Josh, give up a life like mine for you? I mean, that guy could pull chicks better than I ever could, and now he’s a doctor as well, he could have them lining up out the door. But instead, the only girl he looks at is you – what’s so special about you?”

My veins pulse in the side of my head as my emotions threaten to spill over at any moment, but I suck it up, and I stare back at him, trying to figure him out – what is his problem? I thought we were beginning to get along – why is he being like this when I’ve done nothing but be nice to him?

Then finally, I swallow the lump in my throat and I shake my head. “There’s nothing,” I say in a small voice. “There’s nothing special about me at all.”