In A Heartbeat (The Shameful Regret Series) (2 page)

Surprisingly the workday goes pretty quickly, and for
probably one of the first Fridays in a very long time, we actually leave the
hospital a little after 3:30 pm. The day was also a nice day, all the
procedures went perfectly, and we only had to do the already scheduled
patients. Dr. Morrison joked that all of the patients must have studied because
there weren’t any complications, and everything was just like it is in a
textbook.

Michelle and Gabbi were busting with excitement all day
because they decided that not only were we all going straight to Michelle’s
apartment after work, but it was now imperative that we go shopping. My curvy
figure wasn’t going to fit into any of Michelle’s clothing, and I was not
allowed to wear my usual attire of jeans and a top. Have I mentioned that I
also hate shopping?

This also seemed to make Dr. Morrison think that it was okay
to join in on the conversations. I swear, if that man said “Nae-Nae, you’re
gonna look so hot tonight!” one more time, I was going to stab him! I was
seriously going to pick up a set of calipers and stab him.

I must have hollered “Shut the hell up, Travis!” at least
fifteen times throughout the day. We have a very laid back relationship with
some of our doctors. We work side by side all day, everyday so we’re like
family. A dysfunctional family, but a family none the less. Thank God our
patients are sedated, and they can’t hear our conversations.

So, after an extremely long trip to the mall where every
single clothing choice I picked off the rack was rejected, I am all set with my
new denim skirt and one-shoulder top. I swear if I bend over even an inch, my
ass is going to be hanging out. I really don’t want to wear a dress or a skirt
of any kind. I haven’t worn anything other than pants in eight years. I do like
my new top, though. It isn’t something I would have picked out myself, but I am
comfortable in it, and it is my favorite color, a royal purple.

Gabbi tried to talk me into going without a bra with it, but
my “girls” can’t handle that, I need support for these melons. She relented,
and we went and bought a strapless bra, and she insisted that I get a pair of
matching panties. “In case you get lucky!” she chirped. That certainly isn’t
going to happen. No man is going to get near my undergarments, ever.

Michelle’s apartment is in the same complex as mine, just a
couple of buildings over, but she refuses to let me go home to shower. She
claims that once I get home, I will try to come up with some excuse to stay
home and not come back out. She is probably right.

Sitting in Michelle’s bathroom after getting showered, Gabbi
still insisted on doing my hair and makeup. “Woman! If I had hair like yours I
wouldn’t be wasting it by just tossing it up in a bun everyday. I’d let it all
hang down!” she chimes as she curls my hair.

My hair is a dark chestnut brown that hangs midway down my
back. It is thick and heavy with just the slightest bit of natural wave to it.
I often times think of just cutting it all off since, like Gabbi said, it
spends most of the time in a bun, but I just can’t part with my hair. I
remember as a little girl sitting on the floor in front of Momma while she
would run her fingers through it and braid pretty ribbons through it to match
my dresses. I usually just keep it cut in long layers, with my bangs cut to
just sweep over my face, but still long enough that I can easily pull them back
into a clip.

With my hair curled to Gabbi’s approval, she decides that my
eyes need a smokey appearance to go with the dark purple top we bought and
highlight my hazel eyes. “Fine, just do what you want. I don’t care, just don’t
make me look like a clown. You know I don’t really wear all this crap!” I huff
as Gabbi digs through Michelle’s makeup drawer.

“Wowza chica! You look hot!” Michelle exclaims when I walk
out into the kitchen after getting dressed. She is mixing what looked like
vodka and orange juice together for some “pre-game” cocktails to get us ready.

I look down at myself and shrug my shoulders. I am
comfortable for the most part, except the wearing a skirt thing, I feel a bit
too exposed, but I admit, I have a nice body. I am curvier than what would be
considered mainstream, but I can’t help that I was given boobs and ass. Scrubs
usually cover that pretty well, but if this makes my girls happy, then I can
suffer through it for one night, then maybe they will let me off the hook for
another month or year.

Michelle has on her favorite little black dress that she
must have several of, because it always looks brand new. The beaded straps
crisscross in the back and dip into a low V just above her rear, and the skirt
is fitted down below her waist and flares just slightly above her knees.
Michelle is petite and can pull off a dress like this. Add in her strappy
sandals, and it makes her look like she has mile long legs. Her fair skin and
honey blonde hair make her look sweet and innocent, until you look into her
blue eyes that scream mischievousness.

Gabbi, on the other had, she is trying to be a little
sexpot. She has on the tightest black leather mini skirt I have ever seen, and
she pairs that with a blue and silver halter-top. Gabbi may not have much in
the chest department, but she certainly makes it look as if she does with the
way she carries herself. While she was bending over and slipping her feet into
her silver pumps and I swear you could see right down her shirt.

“Alright bitches! I need to find a man tonight! Think this
will do the trick?” Gabbi asks as she swings her hips walking over to grab one
of the drinks Michelle mixed.

Michelle giggles. “If we can keep them off Boobilicious over
here, I’m sure you’ll land someone with as little as you’re wearing.” She
points in my direction as I’m trying to catch my balance in these damn heels.

I am a little worried about the shoes that Michelle was
insisting I borrow from her. They are gorgeous, but me in heels was a recipe
for disaster. I reluctantly agreed to wear them, considering all I had with me
were my work shoes, and something told me that pink zebra clogs weren’t going
to go well with my skirt and top, so I put on the purple peep toe pumps that
just happened to match the color of my top perfectly.

“You two are not to leave my side at all tonight! If I find
myself alone, that’s it. I’ll be calling a cab right back to my apartment. Do
you hear me?” I glare at them as we are waiting on the cab to pick us up from
in front of Michelle’s building. This is going to be a long night. I just hope
I’m up for it. Michelle and Gabbi giggle their way into the cab. Yep, a very
long night.

The cab drops us off right in front of Metro. I have never
been here before. Actually, I have never been to a club before. I don’t really
know what to expect, but I know immediately that it isn’t going to be pleasant
for me judging by the crowd in line waiting to get in, girls in dresses so
tight that it looks like they were painted on, and guys that look like they are
all out for fast hook up. Gabbi waves to the guy standing by the doors and he
signals us to come over. He unclasps the velvet rope, ushering us on through
the door in front of the grumbling crowd. I scurry past him as I feel his eyes
lingering a bit too long on my chest.

“Thanks Mike!” Gabbi kisses his cheek on her way in swaying
her hips to the beat of the music pumping.

I look at her and raise my eyebrow. “And Mike is who
exactly?”

She just smiles and walks passed me. “He’s a friend. It pays
to have friends that work places like this. Got us in cover free, didn’t I?”

I just shake my head as Michelle loops her arm through mine
and we make our way up to one of the bars. I don’t really want to drink, I
don’t want to feel like I’m not in control, but one drink can’t hurt,
especially since it is early. Maybe it will help calm my nerves about being in
a crowd.

I look around at the club. Metro is a very nice club. It’s
all black and red leather, with strobe lights and thick curtains draped across
the ceiling. I sense an upscale city theme. There are high top tables set up to
either side of the stage and a large dance floor out in front. I notice two
bars that line the entire length of both sides of the room set in front of
large mirrors that reflect the lights, making the club feel much larger than it
is.

“Ladies, what can I get you tonight?” the guy behind the bar
asks as we walk up, looking right at Michelle. She’s eating up the attention.

Michelle giggles then leans over the bar showing off her
cleavage “I’ll have a vodka and club soda with lime, Trey, and give Nae-Nae
here a vodka and cranberry please.”

I look from the guy I now know as Trey to Michelle. I wonder
how her and Gabbi know these guys’ names. I guess they really do go out every
time they try to get me to go with them. I take the drink he hands me and
smile. “Thank you.”

Trey pulls his eyes away from Michelle and smiles at me.
“Nae-Nae, is it? Haven’t seen you in here before. Where has Michelle been
hiding you?”

I roll my eyes and elbow Michelle. “The name is Lynae, I
don’t know why Michelle thinks that Nae-Nae is my name, it’s not, and I’ve told
her this a bazillion times! And, she hasn’t been hiding me, I just don’t go out
much.” Sheesh! I need to stop rambling!

Michelle and Trey talk a little more and I turn around to
lean my back against the bar. Gabbi ran off to find a table close to the stage,
but I can’t see her through the crowd.

The DJ is playing some pretty good music to keep everyone
entertained until Shameful Regret takes the stage. I can’t help but think
that’s an interesting name for a band. There must be some reasoning behind it.
The music that the DJ is playing has a nice beat to it, and I find myself
closing my eyes letting the thumping take me away. I suddenly feel a buzz creep
up my shoulders and open my eyes. Across the room I lock onto a pair of green
eyes that feel like they could burn a hole right into me. This man is just
standing there leaning against the amp set up on the stage. He has on dark
rinse jeans that have a few holes in the legs, and a tight black t-shirt
stretched across his broad chest. I can’t see much of his face because he has
the hood of his jacket pulled up casting his features in a shadow, but his eyes
are piercing.

I shake my head and turn back to Michelle. I can still feel
his eyes on me, making my heart race as I tug on her arm. “Hey, lets go find
Gabbi and sit down. These shoes are killing me, and I need a chair. See ya
later, Trey.” I start to pull her away when she notices Mr. Brooding Stare
looking our way, and she stops walking.

“Holy sex on a stick! He is fucking gorgeous!” Michelle says
as she leans into my shoulder, then she adds, “He is totally eye fucking you
Nae-Nae! You should go say hello!”

As I try to ignore the eyes I feel on me, I continue to drag
Michelle along to find Gabbi. “Leave it alone Michelle, I’m not going over
there. Besides, he’s probably not even looking at me. Just, come on.” I finally
spot Gabbi at a table right by the dance floor to the right of the stage. She’s
claimed our spot for the night. I’ll probably just stay at the table and let
them go dance and jump around.

The stage was being set up when Michelle and I finally make
our way through the crowd over to Gabbi. She was bouncing on the balls of her
feet with excitement. “I am so excited to hear Shameful Regret play! They are
so freaking hot! I love their sound. I swear, they are really going to make it
one of these days!” she shouts over the music.

Smiling, I nod my head and scoot onto one of the barstools
sighing in relief of being off my feet. I try to shake the feeling of being
watched and get ready to listen to this new band. I’ve only been sipping on my
vodka and cranberry, so I still have well over half of my drink left. I think
I’ll just sip on this a little longer, then order a coke or water. As much as
the club scene isn’t my thing, drinking certainly isn’t either.

The lights go down a little up front, and people start
crowding towards the stage. I’m really glad that we have this table to sit at.
I don’t think my feet could have taken having to stand for a few hours in these
shoes. I pull out my phone to send a text to Sly.

Me:
Hey doll,
really wishing I had already agreed to head your way this weekend instead.
Michelle and Gabbi have taken over my life for the night! God help me! XO!

I’m so engrossed in my phone that I don’t notice when
Shameful Regret takes the stage. The voice that comes over the speakers is deep
and resonating. The opening lines of
Lips Of An Angel
by Hinder wash
over me, and my body hums with energy. That voice is so magnetic. It just pulls
me in and makes me look up so I can see the source. My heart beats hard in my
chest as I look into those same piercing green eyes that captivated me earlier.
He is looking right at me as he is singing, his lips practically caressing the
microphone.

My phone vibrating in my hand draws me out of my fixation,
it’s Sly responding to my earlier text.

Sly:
Poor thing!
You need to get out more, babe. Have fun, it’s okay to let go every now and
again.

He knows that I don’t like to go out. I only went places
with him while we were in high school, and that was only because he dragged me
along.

I blink and try to clear my head. I hope Michelle didn’t
notice my dazed look a few moments ago. What just happened? I don’t get those
feelings when a man looks at me. That just isn’t how I’m wired.

Gabbi and Michelle wander off closer to the stage, and I’m
left at the table by myself. I try to calm my racing heart by closing my eyes
and listen to the music. I mustn’t look into those eyes again. I can’t let
myself get drawn in again, even though I can still feel them on me.

Shameful Regret really is a great band. The lead singer has
an amazing voice, not to mention he’s drop dead gorgeous, and the rest of the
group have a great sound. Mr. Brooding Stare works the crowd. He is strutting
across the stage with a strong and sure stride, winking and obviously flirting
with the girls clamoring at the front of the stage. He knows he’s sexy, and he
uses that to get the women worked into a frenzy. The looks he throws out at the
crowd have all the women screaming and vying for his attention. He’s lost the
jacket, and is now in just the tight black t-shirt and ripped jeans, jeans that
have some tears along his strong looking thighs. When he raises the bottom of
his shirt to wipe away the sweat from his brow, I see the most perfect specimen
of a six-pack ever created. Shameful Regret moves on to some faster songs that
get everyone jumping and dancing.

My heart is fluttering in my chest. My palms start to sweat
a little. What is wrong with me? I tear my gaze away from Mr. Brooding Stare to
take in the rest of the band. I’ve not had a visceral reaction to a man like
this before. It must be the alcohol. That and I’m probably just tired from a
long week. My mind is forgetting that I don’t really want to be here and that I
don’t have any interest in guys.

I manage to shrug off the advances of a few men that think I
need company or another drink. I guess I haven’t perfected the “leave me the
hell alone” vibe I thought I was sending out. Michelle and Gabbi finally come
back to the table after the hour long set from the band. Fortunately they were
always in my direct eyesight, so I didn’t feel the need to make good on my
threat to leave if I felt they abandoned me.

“Oh! My! God! I want to have his babies!” Gabbi exclaims as
she bounces up onto the seat beside me. I’m sure I can imagine just whose
babies she wants to have.

Michelle shakes her head and laughs at Gabbi, then looks at
me. “Isn’t that the guy staring at you from earlier?”

“Guy? What guy? What did I miss?” Gabbi asks excitedly.

Standing up and stretching my back, I look over at them and
tell them, “Nothing. I’m headed to the ladies room. Watch my clutch.” And I
shake my head “No” to Michelle when she arches her eyebrow in question of if I
need her to go with me. The restroom is only just down the hall that is right
behind where our table is. I don’t trust Gabbi to stay at the table alone,
she’s a social butterfly. She sees a handsome face, she wanders off to make a
new friend.

I make my way through the crowd to the hallway. I keep my
head down so I don’t make eye contact with anyone. I don’t want to get drawn
into a conversation. I should have kept my head up, because the next thing I
know I was running nose first into a very hard chest and stumbling backwards.