How to Fall in Love (24 page)

My stomach twists as I scan the bar, wondering if I’ve made the wrong choice. God, what if he’s not even here?

“Can I get you a drink?”

I look over to the beautiful blonde standing at the bar, watching me with raised brows. It’s not crazy in here tonight, like it was the other night, which mightn’t be a great thing. The mass of people could have been a great distraction. Instead, I find myself nervously biting my nails and wondering when Rainer is going to walk in.

“Sure,” I answer the girl tapping her fingers impatiently at me. “Tequila, straight.”

She raises her brows, but gets me the shot. I take it, hissing as the liquid burns my throat. It has to ease my nerves. The flood of warmth that washes through my body does calm it down a little, but not nearly enough.

“Another,” I say, when she goes past.

She doesn’t protest, and slides another shot to me. I swallow it down painfully and then pull out my phone. It’s been vibrating in my pocket for the last half an hour. It’s probably Mimi. I read her messages, loving how the warmth is starting to travel through my veins.

M – Is he there?

M – Where r u?

M – Are you screwing him?

I roll my eyes and, a little tipsy, I respond.

E – Not here yet. Drinking.

“You need another drink there, darlin’?”

The smooth, husky, sexy voice makes my entire body freeze. Holy shit. It’s him. It’s him, and he’s talking to me.

I can’t seem to make my head lift. It’s as if not looking at him will be easier.

“Hey?”

I clench my eyes and then take a deep breath, lifting my head. I meet the most gorgeous black eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re not really brown anymore; it’s almost as if they’ve darkened over the years to represent how his life has gone. I study those eyes, waiting, willing him to remember. He has to see me in here . . . right?

“You want another drink?” he asks, studying my face.

No recognition.

None at all.

I guess my eyes are more green than blue now . . . God, who am I kidding? He doesn’t remember me. No pathetic excuse in the world will change that.

“Sure,” I manage in a tight voice.

He keeps staring at me. Right. He wants to know what I’m drinking.

“Tequila.”

His brows go up. God, his face, it’s so much more beautiful than I ever remembered. Gone is the cheekiness he used to carry around. Now he’s broodier, more rugged, and definitely more deadly.

“What’s a little girl like you, doin’ drinkin’ tequila?”

I snort. “Little?”

His eyes drag down my body. “There ain’t much of you, sweetheart.”

I hate that word. If he’d said it in a meaningful way, I might like it. But he didn’t.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t handle a drink,” I mutter at my hands.

“You alone?”

“No. I have Bill and John beside me.”

I glance at him, and he’s smirking. “I like a girl with sass.”

I know.

“Are you going to pour me that tequila, handsome, or do I need to find someone else to serve me?”

He arches a brow. “A lot of spunk for someone so small.”

“There we go with the small again.”

I’m deflated, my voice is bitter, and I don’t care. He’s having a conversation with me, talking to me as if I’m any old person, and he literally has no idea who I am. I didn’t think it would hurt so damned much, but it does. I need to numb the pain. Quickly.

He doesn’t argue further and gets me a tequila shot. I take it and then slide the glass back at him, nodding again.

“Have you got anyone to take you home?” he asks, pouring another one.

“Does it really matter to you?”

He frowns. “I don’t like girls in my bar putting themselves in danger.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, tossing the shot back.

My head is spinning nicely now, thank God. It feels so much less painful like this.

“You got a man?”

I stare at him. “A man?”

He grins, and I forgot how beautiful those dimples were. “You know? Someone you’re fuckin’?”

I huff. “No. I wish.”

“So you’re here nursing a broken heart then?”

I cross my arms. “Nope.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I had this friend when I was younger, and I came into town to see him, and he can’t even fucking remember me.”

“What a cunt.”

I blink at him.

“Yeah,” I manage. “That.”

“He’d be a fool to forget a face like yours.”

I want to reach over and beat him. Hard. Fast. Right to the core.

“Yeah, well . . .”

“I gotta keep serving. Stay where I can see you, yeah?”

Seriously? He’s concerned for me? I don’t think so.

“No thanks.”

I get off the stool and wobble, but make my way onto the dance floor. I find a patch and start swaying about, wiggling my body around and dancing my little heart out. A few men stop, putting their hands on me, and I let them, moving until the alcohol is flowing through my body. I’m drunk, far beyond drunk. I don’t care. Screw Rainer. Screw him.

“Hey there sweetheart,” a man slurs, grabbing my hips. “You’re beautiful.”

Oh bull-fucking-shit.

I turn and see a good-looking man holding my hips. “That’s a lie, dickwad,” I mutter. “Just say what you really want.”

He stares at me, with wide eyes. “I mean it.”

“You don’t mean it! They never mean it.”

He raises his brows now. “Fine, then I want to fuck you.”

There we go.

“Not interested, thanks.”

“Then why are you here wiggling your ass against my crotch?”

“I was not wiggling my ass against your crotch.”

He grabs his dick. “I didn’t get this for no reason.”

Ugh. Pig.

“Let me go.”

“No. Girls like you make me mad. You rub yourselves against us and then cry when we take what we deserve.”

Oh my God. Jerk.

“Let me go!” I snap, shoving his chest.

“Not going to happen, little one.”

I go to shove him again, but suddenly he’s being ripped off me and tossed to the side. Rainer is standing over him, his big body wound right up. “Get the fuck out of my bar. No one puts their hands on a girl if she doesn’t want it.”

I’m not watching this. I turn and rush from the bar. I can’t handle this right now. Watching Rainer defend me . . . no. Just no. I find a back door after shoving through the crowd and open it, stepping into the fresh night air. My head is spinning, not terribly, but enough that I know I’ll find it hard to make my way home. I stumble a few times, trying to figure out where the road is.

“Whoa there. You need to slow down.”

A big hand curls around my upper arm and I flinch, turning to see Rainer standing near me. He followed me. Why? Why would he do that?

“I’m fine,” I snap, trying to shove his hand off my arm.

“No, you’re not. You will get raped or worse trying to get home on your own.”

“I’ll call a cab or something,” I mutter.

“Just sit, yeah? Have some water and I’ll take you home. I’m done for the night.”

He shoves a bottle of water at me. I don’t know where he got it, but I don’t want it.

“I don’t want a ride with you!” I hiss.

He studies me. “I’m sorry. Have I pissed you off in some way?”

I grind my teeth. I’m being an asshole, I know that, but I’m hurt. I didn’t want a lot, I didn’t expect a lot—hell, I prepared myself for him hating me, but I never ever expected he’d have forgotten who I am.

“No,” I mumble. “Sorry.”

“Look, you’ve been drinking. Let me take you home.”

“Okay,” I say, putting up a hand. “All right.”

He nods, and extends a hand. “My name is Rainer. You are?”

I never thought about my name. Oh God. If I say Emalie he’ll surely click, and for some, strange reason, I don’t want to give him that. My pride is too strong. He always called me Emy, so that gives me only one option.

“Mali,” I say, taking his hand and fighting back a shiver as warmth floods me.

“Mali,” he murmurs, rolling it around on his tongue. “That’s an interesting name.”

“So is Rainer.”

He gives me a sexy, lazy, half-grin. “So it is. Come on, kid.”

Kid.

Oh God.

I force a smile and follow him to a big, black truck. It’s a lot like the one he used to drive. He opens the door for me and I climb in. He goes around the other side and starts it up, turning on the cooling. I’m sure most people would question my sanity, getting in the car with him, but he’s not a stranger. But I’m the only one who knows that.

“So have you lived around here long, Mali?” he asks, pulling out.

“No,” I lie. “Not long.”

“You work?”

“Yeah, at a coffee shop downtown.”

“Nice.”

“What about you? Have you lived here all your life?”

Stop, Mali. Stop now.

His face goes a little harder. “I did for a while, but then I went away for a few years. I’ve only been back about two.”

“Where’d you go?”

He stares straight ahead. “Not somewhere you’d like to hear about.”

Oh my God. Did he go to prison? What if something really awful happened, and he’s blocked out his past? Could it be so simple? Could it be that whatever bad road he took before we parted ways all those years ago, took him somewhere dangerous? Maybe that would explain why he left. It would also explain him forgetting me.

“I have good listening ears,” I point out.

He grins. “I’m sure you do.”

He’s not going to tell me.

That’s okay.

I’ll learn what happened to him, and maybe then I can figure out how to fix this.

CHAPTER FOUR

THEN – MALI

“He’s looking at you. He’s totally looking at you!” Kenny whispers into my ear, really,
really
loudly.

“Dude, that’s not subtle. I think the whole cafeteria heard you!”

“No,” he whisper-yells. “I’m whispering.”

“You’re screaming, just in a hushed tone,” I snap. “Now stop.”

“No way; he’s watching you. He’s totally watching you.”

“And now he probably thinks I’m nuts because you’re whisper-yelling!”

I don’t want to turn because I’m afraid Kenny might be right. Maybe Jack is looking at me. My heart flutters, and I know my cheeks are redder than usual.

“Look. Smile at him; do something before he turns away,” Kenny urges, pinching my arm.

“Did you just pinch me?” I cry, jerking my arm away.

“God, you have no idea, do you? Turn around and flash your damned smile at him, girl!”

I scowl at Kenny, but turn and glance at Jack. He’s standing across the cafeteria and he’s definitely watching me. Jack is a different kind of handsome. He’s not as rugged and gorgeous as Rainer, but he’s got something beautiful going for him. His hair is sandy blond and messy, his eyes are slate grey, and he’s got flawless olive skin. He’s tall and muscular, but on the leaner side. He’s not bulky.

I smile. I do it before I can chicken out. Jack’s brows go up. He scans me, and then he smiles back. Holy shit. He smiled back. I’m beaming as I watch him turn and walk out with his friends.

“Holy shit,” Kenny squeaks. “He just smiled at you.”

“Who smiled at her?”

I jerk and turn to see Rainer standing behind me, eyes narrowed.

“Jack. He totally just eye-fucked her!” Kenny claps happily.

“It was a smile, Kenny, not sex,” I scoff.

“It was close enough.”

“Told you he was a jerk,” Rainer grunts.

“And so are you, but here we are.”

His eyes flash to mine and his glare challenges me. I hold my own and don’t back down. Rainer doesn’t choose who I date. I certainly get no say so in whom he pokes for fun.

“Thought I warned you about him,” he says, stepping closer, arms crossed over his big chest.

“Okay, caveman,” I mutter, glaring at him. “No offence, but I don’t get any say in who you date . . . so . . .”

He keeps his arms crossed.

I sigh.

“Whatever. Come on, Kenny, we have to get to class.”

“Don’t do it, Emy,” Rainer warns as I walk away.

“See ya, Rai Rai. Call you later.”

He mutters something at me but I don’t stop, I exit the cafeteria with Kenny and we head off to class. My next class is with him, but after that I’m on my own. I wander down the halls, off in my own little world. So much so I don’t realize that Jack is right behind me until his warm hand curls around my upper arm. I turn and jerk in surprise. I never thought he’d actually approach me.

“Hey.” He smiles. “Emalie, right?”

Oh God.

“Ah . . .”
Shit, shit, shit. Get it together
. “Yes.”

“I’m Jack.”

“I know,” I blurt, then my cheeks begin to burn.

God, I’m way cooler than this. What the hell is wrong with me?

Jack flashes a killer grin, dimples and all. Gosh he’s good looking.

“I was just wondering if you might like to go out with me?”

Say what? Is he serious? He wants to go out with me? He could have any girl here. Why the hell would he want to go out with me?

“Ah, is this a joke?” I say, narrowing my eyes.

He crosses his arms, actually looking offended. “Why would it be a joke?”

“Have you seen yourself? And have you seen me?”

“Yes, and yes.”

“I . . . you could have anyone,” I protest, a little lamely.

“I’m askin’ for a date.” He smiles warmly. “Not marriage.”

I laugh nervously. “Well, yeah, okay then.”

His smile gets bigger. “You got a phone number I can have?”

I swing my backpack around, nearly hitting him in the face. I laugh nervously again, and pull out my cell phone. I recite the number and he gives me his.

“I’ll call you. We’ll work something out.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

“Later, Emily.”

Emily. No one calls me Emily. My name is either shortened to Emy or left as Emalie, but never spelled differently. It’s kind of nice. I flush.

“Later.”

Yippee!

~*~*~*~

I
smile down at my phone as my fingers glide across the keys in response to Jack’s latest text. We’ve been texting for the last week, and the more I talk to him, the more I like him. He’s funny, and smart, and so easy to talk to. We’re going on a date tomorrow night, and I’m over-excited about it. I can’t wait.