Shut Up and Kiss Me (2 page)

It was cool for mid-September, the summer quickly disappearing into autumn. But I didn’t mind; I loved all the seasons, and especially this one. The colors of the leaves darkening and changing, the dampness in the air. It all reminded me of home. And God, I missed home.

I was from a small town down south—barely ten thousand souls, and every one of them almost always familiar to everyone else. I’d known every shortcut, every store, and every street by name. Yet here in the Big Apple, even after a year and a half, I still knew very little. The city seemed to be forever changing, always appearing different. Streets I’d walked a couple dozen times still were unfamiliar. However, it was that very reason I’d chosen New York City: to blend in, to be lost. But still, I was far from used to the noise, the lights, and the constant hum of voices, the all-hours activity that seemed to come from every nook and cranny. Rarely was it that I left the apartment for something other than what was necessary. And “necessary” only consisted of essential shopping, and work at a small family restaurant.

The line edged along slowly, my small kitten heels clicking loudly against the sidewalk as Nikki and I tottered forward. The couple in front of us were already drunk, and the tall blonde giggled endlessly as she draped herself across her companion in such a blatantly sexual way that it made me both blush and smile.

“
Nearly there,” Nikki said, standing up on her tiptoes, attempting to see the front of the line. Dropping back down, she turned to grin and waggle her brows at me. “The doorman is cute.”

“
We’re not even inside yet,” I said, laughing. Standing on my tiptoes to see what he looked like, I groaned loudly, my eyes widening. He was a beast of a man, his shaved head covered in tattoos, with matching ink on both his neck and monstrously intimidating arms. He looked…absolutely terrifying.

“
No, Nikki, just no.”

“
What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why not?”

Rolling my eyes, I simply shook my head at her. She and I had very different tastes in men. The bigger the better, she always said, whereas I…well, I just preferred them to not look like they ate small children for breakfast. Not that I had the greatest track record with men, and knew firsthand that looks were incredibly deceiving. This doorman could be the next Mother Teresa, for all I knew. I had very little experience in the men department as it was, and lately even less interaction with them. The entire year and a half I’d been living here I’d gone on a sum total of zero dates.

Nikki had let me get away with my hermit lifestyle at first, but lately she’d been becoming more insistent that I needed to meet someone, that at twenty-seven years old I was far too young and pretty to be hiding myself away from the world.

“
Just no,” I repeated, and laughed again.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Fine, maybe he’s a little too...”

“
Full of steroids,” I helpfully supplied.

“
It’s not a tu-mah,” Nikki said, holding up her slim arm and attempting to make a muscle.

We were still laughing by the time we made it to the front of the line and presented the wannabe Arnold with our IDs. Towering over us, he grinned, revealing a shockingly white set of teeth that only exacerbated the dangerous aura surrounding him. It was a gesture I’m sure he meant to appear welcoming, but after checking his list and stamping my hand with a red infinity symbol—a sideways figure eight—I found myself edging quickly away from him, dragging Nikki along with me.

Upon entering the dimly lit club, a wave of hot air engulfed us as bass thudded in my ears and vibrated through my bones, causing my skin to pebble with goose bumps. Immediately I slid off the thin black jacket that Nikki had loaned me. In fact, she’d loaned me my entire outfit, since my own clothing tended to be more of the jeans and T-shirt variety, not short skirts and heels. Or like tonight’s outfit: a lacy black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a pair of matching kitten heels. It was still simple and plain, the skirt hitting just above my knees, but not nearly as plain as my usual ensembles.

Dropping our jackets off at the coat check, we crossed the club, weaving in and out of people as we slowly made our way toward the bar. Once there, Nikki made a big show of waving over one of many bartenders and ordering two shots of something that smelled vaguely the way I envisioned battery acid smelling. Refusing mine, I ordered a Manhattan cocktail.

Taking a long look around, I couldn’t deny that the club was amazing. It was luxurious yet relaxing, with somber tones for the most part, and small dashings of vibrant colors strategically positioned around the large space, giving it more of a luxurious and exclusive feel. And most people there were dressed in typical club attire: the women wearing short, tight dresses or skirts and semi-revealing tops, while the men donned jeans and shirts, thankfully leaving me feeling not wholly out of place.

Nikki wasted no time in downing her shot. Swallowing it back, she grimaced, then she was grinning and grabbing my wrist. “Time to dance,” she shouted, her features bunched into an adorable and pleading expression.

I shook my head, feeling nervous and not nearly drunk enough to do anything as crazy as dance. “You go,” I shouted back. “I want to finish my drink.” Grabbing my cocktail, I took a tentative sip.

“
You promised,” she whined. “You said you would dance tonight.” She fluttered her fake lashes at me.

For a woman of almost thirty she really knew how to play the spoiled teenager card. Only five-foot-three, with long black hair, dark brown eyes, and fair skin smattered with freckles, she was downright adorable. Yet she had been single for almost a year now, and was insistent that this year was the year she would meet Mr. Right. Or that one of us would. Personally, I was banking on her.

“
I will,” I said, laughing nervously. “I just need a little more Dutch courage first.”

“
I’ll be back then?” she asked, glancing between me and looking longingly at the dance floor.

I waved her away. “Go, go,” I said, smiling. “Have fun.”

Leaving her clutch with me, she sashayed away, shaking her hips, her arms already in the air. Men all over the club turned to watch her dance. She ignored them all, making her way straight past her admirers and onto the center of the dance floor, where she really began to move. Nikki was beautiful and funny, never taking herself or anyone else too seriously. It was beyond me why she was still single. But then, it was beyond me why anything happened the way it did. I had given up questioning the why’s of things a long time ago. You couldn’t change the way of things, or why people were the way they were, you could only learn to accept and adapt accordingly.

Or in my case…run away.

Still watching her, I felt a pang of envy at her freeness and her spontaneity—two things I knew very little about. No longer smiling, I turned back to the bar.

“
Another drink?”

I glanced up to find one of the bartenders smiling down at me. He was a good-looking man—early twenties, I guessed—with dark, handsome features.

“
Please,” I said loudly, gesturing to Nikki’s shot glass and my half-empty cocktail.

He took the money I handed over, his hand warm and soft as he took the cash, his fingertips lingering on my palm for a fraction too long. Blushing deeply, I quickly glanced away. I had no idea how to act around men. Their attention, when one of them actually noticed me, threw me into an emotional tailspin, and nine times out of ten, I tended to act like a bumbling idiot.

Refusing to look back at the bartender, even after he’d brought me my refill, I kept my gaze downward, playing with the cherry in my fresh drink, repeatedly dipping it into the amber liquid and swirling it around and around.

I had come to this city a fractured woman, broken and on the verge of a breakdown, but somehow Nikki had put me back together. After I’d answered her “roommate wanted” ad, it had been Nikki who’d helped me find a job, and even more incredible, had somehow started me on the path to sorting through all my emotional baggage as well, and find the woman I was underneath it all. I had forgotten that woman somewhere along the way, and God, I missed her. I missed her easy smile, the way she liked to sing in the shower and dance across a kitchen floor. I missed the way she had laughed—loud and carefree.

Who was I anymore?

I was lost, but I desperately wanted to find me again.

“
That’s an odd choice.”

I jumped as I turned toward the voice, startled to find the large form of a man standing unnervingly close to me. Staring down at the shots of battery acid and my cocktail, he shook his head, a small smile tugging on his full lips.

“
Sorry,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. He held up his hands in mock defense “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I flushed, heat spiraling up my neck and exploding into my cheeks. He was a good-looking man. No,
he was a great-looking man
. With dark hair, short and with a slight curl to it that gave it an adorably tousled and unruly look, he looked me over with crystal clear blue eyes that the sight of sent my nerves ablaze. Like most of the club-goers, he was dressed casual-chic, in a pair of distressed jeans that hugged his trim hips and legs, that he’d paired with a simple black T-shirt. A lone silver watch was the only jewelry that graced his lightly tanned skin. But the most endearing thing about him was the pair of Converse sneakers on his feet. Smudged, worn-looking, they didn’t quite fit the rest of him, yet at the same time gave him an approachable vibe that I didn’t think he’d have without them.

“
I’m William,” he said, and my eyes again shot to his. “Or Will.” Another smile—this one much more intense than the first—graced his mouth, pulling his flawless skin tight over his sharply cut and incredibly aristocratic features. Feeling embarrassed and flustered, I broke eye contact and popped my cherry into my mouth.

Pressing his lips together, his brow raised, he grinned down at me. “I think this is where you either tell me you have a boyfriend or you tell me your name.” He laughed then, a low, rugged chuckle that took me by surprise and caused me to bite down on the cherry. Flavor exploded in my mouth, catching me off guard and causing me to almost choke. Reaching up, he plucked the stem from between my lips and promptly dropped it back into my glass with such arrogant confidence that my knees begin to quiver.

He wasn’t nervous, not even a little bit, and that lone fact made me feel all the more insecure. I wasn’t good with people—even more so when it came to men.

I cleared my throat to speak and tried to smile, attempting to seem both demure and sexy. To be confident yet flirtatious. “Mila,” I managed to stammer out. Yep. So much for being confident. Or flirtatious.

He didn’t respond right away and my heartbeat began to hammer an unsteady rhythm in my chest. My palms were growing sweaty, my hair clinging to the back of my neck. Nikki had convinced me to wear my usually curly hair down and ramrod straight. No doubt my heavy eye makeup, also courtesy of Nikki, was also starting to smudge.

I looked away, down toward my feet, needing a moment to simply catch my breath. My moment was short-lived as his hand came to my chin, gently titling my face to meet his. I managed to look as high as his chest and arms, where his shirt was emphasizing a nicely toned body beneath the soft material.

“
Mila?”

I glanced up, his hand fell away, and I met his gaze with a tentative smile.

“
Yes, that’s my name,” I stammered, feeling ridiculous. “Mila.”

His smile grew, turning into a full-fledged grin, the depth of which utterly unnerved me. Unable to look at him for another second, I reached for my drink, taking another sip and realizing too late that my glass was empty—not even a drop remained. Feeling like a fool, I quickly placed the empty glass on the bar with a nervous laugh and grabbed Nikki’s remaining shot, knocking it back before I could think about what I was doing. The drink unexpectedly burned down my throat, causing me to cough and sputter as my eyes began to water.

“
Whoa there,” Will said, laughing softly. He rapped his knuckles on the bar, drawing the attention of the closest bartender. “Another manhattan for the lady,” he said, nodding toward me. “And a scotch on the rocks.” He peered down at me and frowned. “And a water,” he added with a small chuckle.

As if I wasn’t already embarrassed enough. Closing my eyes briefly, I wished the floor would open up beneath me and swallow me whole. I was no good at this, and shouldn’t have even attempted it. The next time a man approached me, I was going to politely tell him I was a lesbian and save us both the embarrassment of my social inability.

“
Mila?”

I turned to find Nikki, her hands on her hips, her lips twisted into a fierce scowl she was aiming at Will. “What happened?” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And what the hell did this creep do to you?”