Текст книги "Crazy Beautiful"
Автор книги: Penny Dee
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Crazy
Beautiful
(Book One of the Crazy Series)
By
Penny Dee
Copyright © 2014 Penny Dee
All rights reserved. No part of this ebook may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands and events are either the work of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
For Amber and Jason
Acknowledgements
As I sit here, pondering what to write on the acknowledgment page my mind casts over the past nine months and all I can think of is the amazing support I have received from so many people. There are so many of you to thank. Most of you were a part of the creative process without even realising it. Just by being there, listening to me, encouraging me and taking me out to drink when I needed to function like a normal human being and not like the hermit writer I easily became. You all helped. And I am so thankful.
To my daughter, Amber. You are such a beautiful, lovely, kind, funny and insanely wonderful human being. Thank you for bringing so much sunshine into my life on a daily basis. Life is wonderful, because you are in it. You make everything worthwhile.
To my husband, my very own book hero. Jason. Thank you for putting up with the bad moods, the piles of washing and ironing, the cries of frustration as they drifted out from my desk and the constant requests for vodka. Lots of vodka. I am so thankful you walked into my life. You certainly picked someone a little bit crazy and insane to spend your life with, and for that I am so grateful.
To the entire CCU at my daytime work, especially Pete Willcox, Louise Tilley and Melissa Mackrell. Your daily support and encouragement certainly got me through some rough patches. Louise T, your enthusiasm for Heath and Harlow was such an amazing source of encouragement. And Pete, I learned so much from you and am so, so grateful for your help, advice and support. Mel, as promised, the cocktails are on me!
To Vaughan…for more than quarter of a century of friendship and for introducing me to the awesomeness of CCU.
To the fabulous Miss M (Mareldene). I discovered my writers voice through all those emails to you. Eight years of ridiculously funny emails full of italics and ellipsis. Talking to you certainly helped me find my voice (and humour) because you are so witty, sarcastic and brilliantly funny. One day we will make a book out of the hilarious emails we have written to one another … (insert winky smiley face here).
And to all those brilliant bands out there that create magic with their music. Thank you, thank you, thank you. There were so many songs that I listened to throughout the writing process that inspired me to take my story and make it real.
To the Universe for sending this my way. I’m so pleased I paid attention and followed through.
Finally, to you readers who take the time to read this story. Thank you. I hope you enjoy getting to know Heath and Harlow as much as I did writing them. You guys rock! ;-)
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter One HARLOW
The day I flew to into California was Fat Tony’s birthday.
My cousin Bridget picked me up from the airport and we drove straight to Fat Tony’s Pizza Palace, where he was celebrating his special day by making pizzas. After fifty years of flipping pizza bases, apparently it would kill him to take a day off, even on his birthday. So his staff had taken matters into their own hands and gathered family and friends to The Palace to celebrate. The place was packed and as we walked in, I was hit with the delicious aromas of Fat Tony’s traditional pizzas.
Fat Tony was to be my boss for the next five months. When I’d asked my cousin if I could visit for the summer, she had convinced Fat Tony to give me a job, despite me never having worked a day in my life. He was giving me a job on her word, so I was determined to do my very best.
As soon as I met him, I loved him. Short and round, he spoke with a heavy Italian accent and favored using his hands when explaining things. He was friendly, kind and jovial, and pulled me into a quick hug when he was introduced to me, like I was long lost family. It was no wonder The Palace was full of people celebrating his birthday. He was one of the nicest guys on the planet.
Bridget was working, so I sat in a well-situated booth that overlooked the entire floor.
“Coralee, Piper and Joey will be here soon. You’ll like them,” Bridget said, wrapping an apron around her waist. “Can I get you a drink?”
I nodded and watched her disappear across the room towards the bar.
That was when I saw him.
Everything slowed down and went silent as he caught my eye across the pizzeria.
He stood talking to Fat Tony, a dimpled smile on a face so damn handsome my breath caught in my throat. He wore jeans over motorcycle boots and a belt slung around his hips, fixed at the front with a decorative belt buckle. His sleeveless shirt exposed thick, muscular arms covered in Celtic artwork and symbols all the way down to his wrists.
Behind him, two very pretty girls in barely-there tops and daisy dukes so short they were more fabric strips than shorts, giggled and tried to catch his attention with unsubtle flicks of their long hair. But if he noticed them, he didn’t show it. He continued talking to Fat Tony like they were old friends, those glorious dimples flickering either side of his beautiful mouth as they laughed over something he’d said.
I traced imaginary lines over the curves of the Celtic tattoo that curled over his well-formed shoulder, along his muscular bicep and down his thick forearm. Everything about him was spectacular.
Forgetting to catch my breath, I watched him raise his head. As if he’d heard someone call his name he looked around and scanned the room until his eyes found mine.
I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried, not if my life had depended on it.
From my vantage point it was impossible to see what color his eyes were, but I could see the reflection of the bar lights in them as he held my stare. He tilted his head to the side, as if he was trying to figure something out, and then righted himself. His brows, perfectly placed on his beautiful face, drew together as if he had just realized something he wasn’t sure about, before he looked away. But not for long. As he turned back to Fat Tony, he cast another look over his shoulder and held me with his eyes.
“His name is Heath Dillinger.”
Lost in the moment I hadn’t noticed Bridget return with our drinks.
I looked at my cousin but before I could speak, Bridget added, “And don’t go there. Believe me. That boy is trouble.”
I glanced over at the guy called Heath and felt my insides stir. He was still talking to Fat Tony. But as I watched, he cast another look over his shoulder and our eyes held for another, breathless moment. Yet his face remained expressionless.
“Did you hear me? I said he is bad news Harlow. Don’t be making eyes at the man-whore across the room.”
I felt spell bound but managed a moment of lucidity. I was probably suffering from jet lag. Although I wasn’t sure you got jet lag from Savannah to Los Angeles.
“I’m not.”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “He’ll be notching those two girls on his belt tonight. And he’ll probably eat another one before breakfast.” She sat down next to me. “He’s your quintessential bad boy.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Have you…?”
Bridget looked horrified, like I’d just stuck her with a fork. “What? Him? Are you kidding me? No way! But I know plenty of girls who have and I’m telling you now, he’s a heartbreaker.”
Someone in the party screamed playfully drawing our attention away from Heath. When I looked back, he was gone. Disappointed, I sipped my beer.
“Well, well, well, if it ain’t my fav’rite Southern belle,” came an exaggerated Southern accent from behind us. I peered over my shoulder at the handsome young man walking towards us. He climbed over Bridget to squeeze in between us even though the other side of the booth was vacant.
Sighing he kissed Bridget on the cheek and then turned to look at me. “My God you’re beautiful!” he exclaimed, and then looking back at Bridget added cheekily, “wish I was part of your gene pool.”
“Don’t mind Leo,” said Bridget, leaning forward and smiling, “He’s our bartender. But he’s also the resident gossip here at The Pizza Palace, so be warned.”
Leo looked surprised then smiled proudly. “And I’m fabulous at it. Now tell me all about you.”
“Be careful Harlow, it’ll all be around town tomorrow.”
“Oh hush!” He waved off Bridget, and then turned back to me with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, and mouthed, “She’s such a liar.”
“You’re right … it won’t be your version, Harlow. It’ll be Leo’s souped up version.” She looked fondly at my new friend, adding, “Leo is very creative.”
He shrugged innocently. “So, I have been known to bend the truth on occasion.”
“Bend the truth? On occasion? Leo, you’re a real Steven Spielberg.”
He grinned. “I’m flattered.”
I smiled, and shrugged. “My story isn’t very interesting I’m afraid.” Nodding towards the club where everyone was celebrating. “Why don’t you put those creative super powers to work and tell me about some of the people here?” I suggested, keen to distract Leo’s interest from me and redirect it somewhere else.
“Oh, this will be good,” Bridget murmured.
“Oooh, what a fabulous idea. Who would you like me to start with? Randy pants over by the jukebox or Mr. Hot Jock over there with all those glorious muscles and his jeans slung so low I’m surprised we haven’t seen the pet weasel pop out.”
Bridget almost choked on her beer. I smiled and allowed my eyes to rest on the guy I now knew as Heath.
“Let’s start with the pet weasel,” I said.
Leo rolled his eyes. “They all want to know about Heath Dillinger darling.”
“All?” I raised my eyebrow.
“Ohhh, I like that,” Leo said, referring to my arched brow, “very Scarlet O’Hara.” He turned back to Heath who was now talking to three girls. “Every single girl that comes to the Pizza Palace sets her target on that lovely piece of man meat. And rumor has it, he doesn’t disappoint.” He sighed dramatically, and flopped his chin down onto his hand, adding dreamily, “Pity he doesn’t bat for my team. I could eat him with a side salad and a nice bottle of Chianti.”
“Ugh, now you just sound like a creepy Hannibal Lecter,” Bridget said.
“Like Hannibal Lecter wasn’t already creepy enough?” I asked.
“Hannibal Lecter with a twist of camp,” Bridget replied.
“Say what you like my fair ladies, but that man put the sex in sex stick!”
“And he’s put that sex stick in half the women in Orange County.” Bridget eyed me. “Anyway, Harlow has a man back home, don’t you Harlow?”
I looked away.
“Do tell,” Leo insisted, nudging me with his shoulder.
“He is a thousand miles away. And he’s not really my man anymore.”
Bridget looked shocked. “What?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m not in a hurry to go anywhere,” Bridget said.
“Family gossip, I do love you Southern folk!” Leo interjected with a beaming smile.
“We are on a break,” I explained.
“Do your parents know?” Bridget asked, and when I looked away, added, “They don’t? Harlow, you’ve got a big debutante season coming up—“
“And that is almost five months away.” I gave my cousin a stern look. “So until then, I’m not going to worry about Colton, the deb ball or my parents, okay.”
Bridget nodded. “Now I understand why you were so desperate to get out of Savannah.”
“Colton? Your beau is called Colton?” Leo asked.
“He’s not my beau.”
“You’re non-beau is called Colton?”
“Colton Labousse,” I said.
“Ugh! No wonder you dumped his ass.” Leo pulled a face. Then seeing his latest crush across the room, he exclaimed, “Oooh good, there’s Jeremy. Apparently he can suck a snooker ball through a vacuum cleaner pipe. And that basically ticks all the boxes for me.” He stood up. “So if you will excuse me ladies, I’m going to have to bid you adieu.”
“You’re deserting us Leo?” asked Bridget.
“Honey I’m going to go and get myself laid.”
We watched him disappear across the room toward a rather effeminate looking lad with short dark hair and fluid, feminine movements.
Bridge climbed out of the booth, ready to get back to work. “And that tornado was Leo Hamilton.”
“I like him.”
“He was the first person I met out here. He came straight up to me and told me I had the most fascinating eyes he had ever seen. Then he proceeded to ask me to bear his children if I was still single at thirty, and we’ve been friends ever since.”
I laughed. “I would expect that of him.”
A very attractive redhead appeared next to us. She was all of five-foot nothing with the longest red hair I’d ever seen. It was a stunning shade and tumbled in thick waves to her waist. When she smiled, she looked like a beauty queen. God the guys back home would flip over her.
“Hi, I’m Piper. You and I are going to work together,” she said as she sat down next to me. She was very cute and when she smiled she reminded me of the Australian actress, Isla Fisher.
“Piper is one of the other waitresses here,” Bridget explained, unnecessarily. “Her other half is in a band with Heath.”
The gorgeous man-creature was in a band?
“Actually they’re playing later at Epic,” Piper said.
Epic? I looked at Bridget.
“It’s a club,” she explained.
“You guys should come and watch them play. I’m going there later. Jesse and Heath just dropped me off because they wanted to wish Fat Tony a happy birthday.”
“I’m working. But you should go, Harlow,” said Bridget.
“Yeah, Harlow. Come and see them with me. It’ll be fun.” Piper really was stunning when she smiled. And cute. Adorable, even.
“I’m not really dressed for a club.” Not that I knew what people wore to clubs out here. But I was still dressed in the knee length day dress and cashmere cardigan I’d left Georgia in. I wasn’t sure if pearls and cashmere were acceptable club wear.
“You look fine. Hey, this is California … anything goes.” Bridget winked.
“So you’ll come?” Piper asked, tucking one leg underneath her.
I looked to Bridget.
“You should go. Have some fun.”
I shrugged. I’d come to California after an adventure. It might as well start now. “Okay.”
Piper squealed and hugged me like I’d just offered her a kidney.
I stayed at The Pizza Palace for another couple of hours where I met the other staff members I’d be working with over the summer. Coralee had worked as a waitress at The Pizza Palace for over thirty years. She had a kind smile and big dangling plastic earrings that jingled as she spoke. Joey was young with shaggy brown hair and dark green eyes. He was one of the bartenders and seemed a little shy.
When nine o’clock rolled around, Piper looked at her watch. “We should get going. The guys will be going on stage soon.”
I found Bridget to say goodbye.
“Have a good time.” She smiled and then raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “But don’t touch anything. Even the walls will get you pregnant.”
* * * * *
The music was so loud I could barely hear myself think. Everything about the place was a warning to stay away. Set off an alley we passed a fat bouncer and climbed a grimy staircase leading up to the darkened club.
Before going in I heard the violent thud of live music and powerful male vocals. I hesitated but Piper grabbed my wrist and pulled me through the doorway, into the unknown. Immediately, two scantily clad girls pushed passed us, giggling and squealing something about the singer on stage.
It took me a moment to focus my eyes and ears in the darkness. I looked across the smoky room to the stage where the band were performing and recognized him immediately. Jean clad and with motorcycle boots, that magnificently muscular and tattooed body was moving amidst a glow of blue and white light. For a moment I couldn’t move. The sight was mesmerizing. He moved from one side of the stage to the other where he rested a booted foot on an amp and belted out such a powerful note that goosebumps tickled my skin.
Piper bounced about with excitement and tugged at my arm.
“There they are,” she cried, clutching me close to her. “Look at Jesse, isn’t he gorgeous?”
She squeezed my hand and squealed again. It was a noise that would be annoying from anyone but her. Somehow she made it sound adorable.
I nodded and grinned. Her boyfriend was the rhythm guitarist with curly blonde hair. But my eyes fell back to the guy in command of the microphone. I didn’t want to admit it, but he kind of had me spellbound as he performed on that stage in front of a club of adoring fans.
Piper gave me a quick run-down on the band. “That’s Armie on lead guitar; Tommy on bass, Zack on drums … and that’s Heath singing.”
Heath.
The club was full. Everywhere I turned I saw girls dressed in tight clothing. Everyone seemed drunk or well on their way and I felt immediately intimidated and out of place. Perhaps coming here wasn’t such a good idea. Since arriving from Savannah a few hours earlier I hadn’t had a chance to change and my knee length dress and cashmere cardigan fit in here as much as my grandma at a rave party. But Piper had me firmly by the wrist and pulled me deeper into the swarming crowd towards the stage.
I didn’t recognize the song but everyone reacted to it like it was some kind of anthem. The beat was slow. Seductive. Heath’s voice was hoarse and powerful. The words were raw and sexual; a promise of what was to come.
Feeling it rise, like a cool hand on your thigh,
It’s hard in the dark; yeah it’s me you despise
Cos you know I’m gonna make you scream
Go ahead hate me; I’m gonna make you say my name
This is my seductive game
Put together, the mix was intoxicatingly potent. Heath was fucking each and every woman there with every sexually saturated word. On stage he held them captive with his powerful vocal style and sexy smile. His magnetic stage presence made it hard to look away. The way he looked. The way he moved. The way he strode across the stage and stepped onto the amps, standing luminous in the bluish-white light, looking like a god. His big boots. His jean clad legs. The glint of his belt buckle as it moved with the phallic rhythm of his hips moving to the music. It was hard to look away.
Every now and then his shirt would rise up and the light would find his perfectly chiseled belly. Each time, women would scream. Or just stare with rampant desire. Others shot him invitations with their eyes or via the not so subtle gyrations of their bodies.
I tried to look away, but damn it if he hadn’t already sucked me in. Aviators covered his eyes but I could feel them on me and my body reacted with violent longing, surprising the hell out of me. His raspy voice had detonated something inside of me, unfurling it with every word until I began to throb with the beat of the music. Spellbound, I watched as his arm extended forward as he pointed at me.
Right.
At.
Me.
The seduction had begun. With every word he sang. And it terrified and excited me all at once.
I reached for the string of pearls around my neck. His words stripped me bare and I felt naked, standing in front of him, waiting, anticipating, needing him to finish me off with every seductive word falling from his lips.
This wasn’t like me. It wasn’t like me at all. But I’d never seen anything like this back in Savannah.
Swallowing hard, I peeled my eyes off him to glance around me. Epic was a large club, packed wall to wall with the band’s growing fan base, and you’d have to be blind to not notice that every single woman there was in love with Heath.
To the left of the stage a stunning blonde, in a tight black dress and boots, stood out in all her glamour blondeness. She focused in on Heath as she moved her hips slowly to the music despite its tempo. Her lithe figure flowed like silk beneath the black dress. She was trying to catch Heath’s attention but he was still singing to me. True, I couldn’t see his eyes. But I could feel them on me like a pair of large, caressing hands as he sang:
Yes you. By the time this night is through.
By the first rays of the morning sun.
I’m going to make you come undone.
Oh.
My.
God.
I bit my lip. I’d never experienced this before and was utterly spellbound. Which was ridiculous because I was hardly your typical groupie. I was a good Southern girl, church going and well-behaved. Okay, maybe not church going. And perhaps not always so well-behaved thanks to my inner bad girl. But I was Southern.
To break the spell I looked away and cast my eye around the room. The crowd had separated me from Piper, and she had vanished into the hordes of people that were moving and pushing like a living entity around me. I was in the middle of the action and it was getting more and more frenetic, and aggressive.
After an elbow to the ribs amidst the violent jostling, I decided to escape the crowd. I turned and struggled towards the other side of the room where there was space to breathe. But as I went I was pushed and pulled in different directions like I was moving with a tricky tide.
My only escape was to head towards the door. Swimming with the rip, I finally made it towards the back of the room.
I hadn’t heard the vocals stop.
The first moment I knew something was amiss was the hand on my arm as it swung me around.
And there he was.
The god from the stage, standing before me, his beautiful god-like face looking even more beautiful close up.
He had parted the crowd to get to me like a modern day Moses parting the Red Sea.
Wait? To get to me?
The band was still playing but everyone—and I mean everyone—was looking at me.
“You can’t leave,” he said in a deep and amazing, hoarse voice.
My ability for speech had abandoned me. I knew I was staring at him like a fool and I had to tell myself to close my mouth.
Say something.
Anything.
“Okay,” I managed to breathe.
He smiled and it devastated me. A dimple appeared either side of his glorious mouth. He lifted his aviators so I could see bright blue eyes staring back at me.
“I’m not going back on stage unless you stay,” he said with a grin.
He was wildly cocky, in an annoying yet charming way. And somehow it snapped me out of the spell.
I raised a brow in a very Scarlet O’Hara-ish kind of way. “Is that right?”
He grinned harder. “If you leave, I will be forced to abandon this gig and chase after you.”
“And why on earth would you do that?”
“To find out your name.”
I folded my arms. “You could just ask me.”
His lovely mouth opened into a stunning smile. It was so beautiful it caught my breath in my throat.
Ugh!
“I have to go,” I said, suddenly panicked. This guy was too much.
“Then I don’t go back on stage.”
“Really? You’re going to blackmail me, thirty seconds after meeting me?”
“If it means you’ll stay.”
Again I raised a brow. “You don’t play fair.”
“No, I don’t. I play hard.” He smiled, a big white beautiful smile that I felt from the tips of my toes through to the top of my head.
“Harlow,” I said, surrendering with a smile. “My name is Harlow.”
His half-smile tugged on his amazing mouth. “Nice to meet you, Harlow.” He lifted an eyebrow and hit me with those baby blues. “I’m Heath Dillinger.”
He grinned.
And everything changed forever.
* * * * *
He went back on stage to finish the set. The rest of the band looked at him with silent questions, their eyes searching across the crowd to find me. Jesse smiled and shook his head as if this unpredictable behavior was somehow typical of their lead singer.
Thankfully Piper found me, no doubt courtesy of my rather public encounter with Heath, and we watched the rest of the set together. This time, she looped her arm through mine so she wouldn’t lose me.
When the last song ended, Heath, in true rock star style, thanked the fans for their enthusiasm. His glorious deep voice filled the room with a promise to return after a short break.
“C’mon,” Piper squealed. She grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me through the club.
By the time we made our way through the throng to the band’s table, they were all sitting down and ordering drinks. Fans crowded the table making it hard for us to get through. But I had underestimated Piper’s desire to reach her man and she parted that crowd as if she had some kind of magic power. I put my head down and braced myself as she led me into the crowd of fans.
Jesse appeared and lifted Piper up into his arms. “Did you see me babe?” He swung her around and kissed her. “Now that rocked!”
I kind of felt out of place but smiled at their public display of adoration. It was obvious Piper and Jesse were made for one another and the way he held her tight was adorable.
“You are the best baby,” Piper said and kissed him all over his cute face. She giggled and then remembering me standing beside her, turned his chin to look at me. “This is my friend Harlow.”
Jesse offered me a hand and grinned. “How you doin’, Harlow? Enjoy the show?”
I felt incredibly aware of how I didn’t fit in. My plain dress, cashmere cardigan and string of pearls screamed Catholic school. But I smiled and shook his tattooed hand. He seemed really nice, very friendly. His hair was short and dirty blonde. He had a kind face and even kinder eyes.
“You guys were amazing,” I said truthfully.
He winked. “Thanks!” Then he looked down at Piper in his arms and kissed her again.
You couldn’t help but smile around them. Their affection for one another was sweet. But it did make me feel a bit like the third wheel. Slipping into a chair next to them I looked around. Across the table Heath was surrounded by girls. Two bottle blondes, attractive and wearing skin-tight clothing that did nothing to hide their big boobs and Californian tans, flanked him. A few steps away, a group of girls did their best to attract his attention.
I wondered how I was going to slip out unnoticed. I didn’t belong there. And as nice as these people were, I would never fit in with them. They were a popular band with an entourage of very cool friends; I was fresh off the plane from Savannah and dressed like I had just come from church.
Feeling awkward and out of place, I excused myself to find the bathroom where I had to line up to use a rather scary looking cubicle. Afterwards I washed my hands in a grimy basin that could challenge Ebola for a top level CDC rating. Then I managed to dodge a request for a tampon from a girl in a pair of barely-there denim shorts and a see through net top. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her dark nipples poked out through the mesh.
After she left I was alone. I stared at the good girl in the mirror, fighting the feeling of not belonging and the desire to slip out of the club unnoticed. But I hadn’t come to California to stay at home.
I met my eyes in the mirror. It was time to stop being such a flake.
Back at the table, Piper was sitting on Jesse’s lap and they were laughing about something private. The crowd around the table had thinned. Heath was, for the first time, devoid of groupies draping themselves over him like blankets, but didn’t seem to notice because he was so entrenched in a conversation with the drummer, Zack.
Looking around the dimly lit club, with luminous writing on the wall, I saw Heath’s girls on the dance floor whipping up a display of tongues and body grinding for his benefit. But when I looked back to Heath he was completely unaware. He was too busy animatedly explaining something to Zack and talking with his hands.
My curious eyes were drawn back to the bottled-blondes who were working up a frenzy against each other’s bodies. Tongues. Hands. Wet lips. I’d never really seen any girl-on-girl action before. Except in a porno I’d watched with my ex-best friend back home when we were fourteen. And I’d never experienced any girl action, unless you considered me dreaming I was Anthony Keidis and I was nailing an Egyptian princess who had a magic urn.
I turned away from the spectacle on the dance floor and was startled to see Heath looking at me from the end of the table. Heat flared in my cheeks. Before I knew it, he had claimed the seat beside me, bringing with him the energy of a frenzied shark attack.
Before I could even open my mouth I was fully aware of his charm. It seeped from every pore that was Heath Dillinger. He smiled at me and I was almost dazed by his attractiveness. White teeth. Dimples. The hint of a cleft on his chin. Eyes like sunlight on the Arctic Ocean. He was the whole package and he knew it.
While my head seemed determined to be unaffected by him, my body had its own idea. I felt an involuntary pull against my chest as he smiled at me and fixed me with those baby blues. I sucked in a deep breath trying to stop the physical reaction taking place all over my body.
“So. Harlow,” he said simply. “That’s a very cool name.”
I nodded but I was so busy trying to seem unaffected by him, I came across as totally affected by him. I started to hate myself a little for it. This guy was used to having this effect on women. And it made him a little too confident that I would drool after him too.
But I wasn’t about to be one of those girls. He couldn’t just charm me out of my panties. Even his spectacular introduction was laced in cocky arrogance. Like he could just have me, if he wanted me. Well that wasn’t going to happen. Ever. I didn’t care who he was. He’d have to work a little bit harder than that to impress me. But I didn’t want him to. Because this guy was obviously trouble and I had just left a big ol’ bag of trouble back home.
It was time to let him know.
“As in Jean Harlow?” he asked.
