Page 8 of Arturo's Temptation

“Save the men for us Lil’, don’t waste the good ones on her!” Great. The bitch squad had arrived. I looked over Lily’s shoulder and sure enough there they were. The three girls who had wormed their way into Lily’s life and mine by default: Keeley, Amber, and Harriet.

I had zero tolerance for them. I hadn’t since high school and I didn’t plan on starting now. They always had something to say. It was either sly digs, or using my name to get into high places. They weren’t my friends, they were social leeches. I only had two friends and one of them was no longer here.

“So, Isabella,” Keeley started, twirling her hair around her perfectly manicured finger, “have you decided who you’re bringing to Lily’s wedding yet?” Why were they all so damn obsessed with my love life?

“Yup. And that would be no one,” I said, sipping my soda while waiting for her snide reply.

“You can’t be serious,” Harriet squawked, her eyes practically bulging from her head. “You can’t show up alone, it’s like social suicide.”

“I don’t know why you’re all so caught up on me bringing a date. I am going for one reason and one reason only, and that’s to support Lily.”

“Look, all she’s saying is, you don’t want to die a virgin, do you?” Amber giggled, glancing between the girls who joined in.

“Amber!” Lily gasped, dropping her margarita down on the lit up table with a thud.

“It’s true, at this rate she’ll probably die alone. How sad…” Amber strummed her talons on the table, before continuing. “You know, Isabella, Ever since Peyton died you’ve been so boring. Such a stick in the mud.”

“Amber, that's enough!” Lily interjected. I held my hand up to stop her. There was no point rising to it. Amber had a poisonous tongue, and she knew exactly how to land each word so they burned.

“Oh, come on, Lily! You can’t disagree, she’s more frigid than a frozen juice box.” My heart rate quickened as she leant back against the booth wall, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Newsflash, honey, Peyton died, you didn’t.” And with that, my resolve snapped.

“You know what, Amber?” I rose from my seat, my eyes never leaving hers. “I really think you need to go fuck and yourself.” The rest of her bitch squad gasped as I eased out of the booth. “Just because I don’t fuck everything that moves, doesn’t make me frigid, it simply means I want more from a man than a hard-on and a fat wallet.” Anger flared across her cheeks making them turn slightly pink as she sucked on her teeth. “Oh, and Amber?”

“What?!” She snapped, only making this ten times easier.

“Consider yourself barred from my father’s club,” I didn’t need to turn around to know exactly what her face looked like.

Yeah, go suck on a lemon you sour faced cow.

“You wouldn’t dare stop me coming in here.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” I glanced over my shoulder, the corner of my eye meeting her murky green ones. “Try me.”

She let out an exasperated huff, before stamping her incredibly expensive heel on the floor under the table.

“Lil’, I’ll call you tomorrow.” I knew it wasn’t Lily’s fault her friends were like that, truth is, they were hers way before they were mine. She was on the cheer team with them at school, I was never into that, I preferred to spend my time with a good book, or capturing candid moments on my old polaroid. Only Peyton fully understood me and the world I grew up in.

I left the four of them behind as I headed off towards the bar. I hated when people brought up Peyton, especially those three. When I lost her, I didn’t just lose my best friend, I lost my sister. Pain bled freely from the sharp stings the bitch squad had left and I found myself stumbling. Memory upon memory flooded through me as I passed through the hordes of drunken people. I knew my father was upstairs along with Red and most probably Gino, and I needed to get out of this crowded area. Today had been a shit show from start to finish, and right now, I just wanted it to end.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I clearly hadn’t paid any attention to where I was going because I had accidentally barged into a six foot four wall.

“Hey! Watch it, asshole!”

Holy crap!

Make that a leather clad adonis. I couldn’t see the guy’s face, only a large, muscly frame and the back of a head which was shaved around the sides and long on top. He slowly placed hisempty tumbler down on the bar. His leather jacket was now dripping with what smelled like whiskey.

I waited with bated breath as he turned to face me, I half expected him to give me a mouthful of abuse but for a moment, he paused. My eyes bore into his the second they met, and although they were rimmed with thick, dark chocolate lashes, I could see they were a deep shade of hazel, with a swirl of honey dancing like fire within them. His eyes flicked down before they narrowed at me. I couldn’t explain it but the way he looked down at me made me want to shift on the spot. I wasn’t used to feeling uncomfortable and it unnerved me. And the longer I stood there, the longer he just stared at me. It was like he was waiting for something. I cocked my head and folded my arms. I knew I was the one in the wrong but I’d had a shitty day and the least this guy could do is say sorry and move out of my way.

“Me? Love, I think it’s you who needs to watch out,” he smirked, wiping the remnants of scotch off his stubbled chin.Woah! He’s British? That’s a first.I swallowed as discreetly as I could. “You walked into me, and you made me spill my favourite whisky.” I rolled my eyes, just for something to do. I searched my quickly emptying brain, unsure what my next response should actually be. “So, you gonna keep me waitin’?”

“Waiting for what exactly?” I scoffed, awaiting his next move.

“The apology you owe me.” He closed the distance between us. The warmth coming from his chest combined with the intoxicating scent combination of leather, whisky, sharp, spicy cologne and tobacco made my body quiver. This guy oozed masculinity.

I peered up through my lashes and took in the lines of his face. He was breathtaking, almost… beautiful. My hand ached to touch his messy jet black hair that fell across his forehead in strands. His jaw was wide and angular and covered in stubble, while his cheekbones could cut glass. He was flawless. Andclearly he knew that. The only imperfection that caught my attention were the numerous pieces of silver he wore in his face. I glanced at his neck and noticed the tattoos covering it. I was mesmerised and I knew I shouldn’t be. I didn’t want to be, but I couldn’t help myself.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. But go ahead, be my guest,” I winked, finally pulling myself together.

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