Page 10 of Flame After the Fumble

Liza

This is nothing like Bourbon Street. This thought plagues my mind as I walk into this crowded college-town bar. Growing up in New Orleans and roaming the French Quarter later than I should have as a teenager made me grow up quickly. My roommate, on the other hand, is shaking, rubbing her hands together and picking her nails every chance she gets.

Stopping on the quieter side of the bar makes the most sense. She needs to ease into this and not get thrown off the deep end. I grab her shoulders and turn her to face me. “It’s ok. You're doing it!” I hype her up with a toothy smile. I’m in my element while she is being pushed out of her comfort zone.

“I’m so awkward.” She brings her finger up to bite her thumbnail before I intercept and wrap her hands in mine.

“Don’t look—” I lean in to whisper. “But the athletes at the high-tops are eyeing you up and down.”

“What?!” She panics with shallow breaths before disregarding me and looking anyway. “They probably don’t know why a girl like me is here.” Her face turns the color of a cherry tomato as she grips my arm so tight it’ll probably leave marks. I let out adeep laugh and toss my head back, flipping my hair out of my face.

Emberly quirks her eyebrow up in confusion. “What’s funny? Did I miss something?”

“Follow my lead, chica. Start laughing,” I giggle out to my roommate. “Nonchalance is key to drawing them in.”

“Drawing who in? I don’t want anyone drawn in!” she shouts aggressively in my ear. Every girl wants a little attention, and Emberly doesn’t think she’s good enough to reel in a hot guy at the bar. I’ll make it my mission to prove her worth to her. “Wait. Liza there’s a really tall guy coming this way. What do we do?” She removes her hands from my arm and switches to clutching her purse in a death grip.

“Act natural. Flirty.” I wink, tossing my hair over one shoulder.

“I don’t know how. . .” Before she can finish, the mystery boy cuts in and comes into view.

This one isallman. His dirty blonde hair curls up right below his ear and a gray hat flipped backward sits on top of his head. Guys don’t make me nervous. I’ve been around the best and worst of them my whole life, but his presence does something funny to my stomach. He towers over Emberly and I with an effortless smile, revealing his knee-buckling dimples. His corded muscles ripple from beneath the baby blue Henley shirt. My eyes travel down his body shamelessly, revealing khaki pants that hug his thick thighs down to casual Vans.

“Goldie, where have you been all my life?” The male model look-alike rolls the nickname off his tongue. His sea-green eyes pierce through every barrier I carefully built up brick by brick to avoid men like this.

“Nicknames before you've earned the privilege, I see.” I cross my arms over my chest, accentuating one of my best physical features. I know my assets and how to use them,thank you very much.

“Only for you, Goldie.” He winks before he continues, “Hartley.” He reaches his hand out to shake mine. Placing my hand in his, his size hits me like a freight train. A large, warm hand envelopes mine. His thumb quickly brushes over the back of my hand before he retreats and sticks it back in his pocket.

“Liza,” I giggle out.Why am I laughing?Focus, Liza. Boys like this are dangerous.

“And you?” He gestures toward my frantic roommate.

“E. . .E. . .Emberly.” She doesn’t bother to lift her eyes from the floor. Baby steps. At least she spoke.

“Nice to meet you both.” A smug grin is plastered across his face as he rocks back and forth from the tips of his toes to the balls of his heels. His face paints a picture of total relaxation, but his body language reads differently. “Do you go to school at Springs U?” He focuses his full attention on me with the best eye contact known to man.

“Yep. I’m a freshman. You?”

“Me too. I moved in early for summer training camp.” He casually throws that piece of information in the conversation. My brain short circuits, processing the fact that he’s an athlete. The thought throws me back to a time where Layne and I wereforever. Yeah, no.

“Is that your way of dropping the college athlete card?”

He laughs and bends over slightly, hands still firmly placed in the pockets of his khaki pants. “Depends.” He takes a few steps closer, closing the distance between the two of us. “Is it working?” My eyes close and inhale a deep, earthy scent. It’s a woodsy mix, intoxicating me more than the drink I so desperately need. His hand reaches for my chin as he tips it up slightly to catch my gaze before dropping his arm back down.

“Let me think about it,” I sass as I tap my finger against my chin where his hand grazed. “No, you're trouble.”

He clutches his chest in fake shock, darting his eyes back and forth across both ends of the bar. “Who? Little old me? I’m a saint.” His eyes make their way back to mine. He leans in slightly and whispers, “What do you think you know about me, Goldie?” His warm breath and deep seductive voice sends goosebumps across both arms.

Not backing down, I lean in so close that our lips almost touch. “Hotshot athlete that can score any girl in this bar, but we’re nothing more than conquests. Been there. Done that. Got the t-shirt.” My hand lifts to his neck and gently rubs back and forth. His eyes darken and zero-in on my glossy lips. “See you around, Hotshot.” Dropping my hand and taking a few steps back, never losing eye contact, I throw him a small wave before linking arms with my skittish roommate and head straight for the dance floor.

“Teach me everything,” Emberly says as we find a small opening to weave through the flashing lights and sweaty people.

I look over to Emberly and plaster a fake smile across my face. I paint the picture that I’m completely unbothered because that was too close for comfort. I was seconds away from folding for Hartley. Deciding not to relive the past, I pulled myself away from his hypnotic gaze before I threw caution to the wind and crashed my lips into his without a second thought.

8

Hartley

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