Tessa Teevan - Incinerate

He looks at me curiously, probably wondering why I touched him but can do nothing but stare. Before I can speak, the bartender shows up and he impatiently places his drink order. I’m still curious as to why he’s at the bar when I saw him talking to a waitress, but to be honest, I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s here next to me where I can study him up close and personal.

Once he gets his beer, he gingerly turns towards me, as if trying not to aggravate the unseen injury I’m now positive he has. I hold my hand out to his good one, and he shakes it lightly. My fingers tingle when his touch mine, and I shiver unexpectedly, a movement that causes his eyebrows to rise as he watches me over the top of his beer.

“Charlotte,” I tell him, not sure why I decide to use my given name, seeing as everyone’s called me Charlie since I was a baby. I don’t know why, but something about this guy oozes sex appeal, and Charlotte sounds so much more appealing, sophisticated, and sexy.

His hand lingers on mine as his long fingers graze my skin. Once his shot appears, he removes himself from my touch and takes it in one quick gulp. Looking down at me, he smirks, a cocky grin spreading over his face. I clench my thighs together as a wave of lust washes over me as his gaze moves up and down my body, pausing for a moment on the ample cleavage that my halter top is showcasing. Looking back up at my face, he clears his throat and shakes his head as he catches me licking my lips.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe another time, another place, Charlotte, but not tonight,” he whispers in a sexy, hushed tone before he turns and walks away from me.

Mortified and kind of in shock, I gape after him, watching his luscious backside saunter away from me as he rejoins his friends. He glances over at me and gives me a wink, and I want to crawl under the bar and pretend I don’t exist. Of course, the first time I attempt to flirt with a man he turns me down flat. Then again, I only told him my name and stared at him like he was a masterpiece in an art gallery, drooling over him and unable to make conversation. I’m not sure that qualifies as flirting.

Rejection sucks, so when the bartender comes around, I order two shots of tequila and another beer to wash the sting of embarrassment away. I’m going to be feeling like ass tomorrow, but I’d rather forget tonight, so I down both shots in quick succession, my brain swimming, wondering why this stranger is affecting me so intensely.

The rest of the night drags on as Lucy continues to flirt with the guys at the pool table, and I begin to wonder why she even bothered to invite me. This was supposed to be an anti-guy night, drinking cocktails and dancing the night away, but it was turning out to be anything but that. I’m on an island, having switched to beer, drinking alone and playing on my phone as I watch everyone else have fun. And the one time I tried to hit on a guy? It was a failure of epic proportions, shut down before I could even get started.

Signaling to the bartender for my check, I’m ready to leave when someone plops down in the barstool next to me. Not looking up from my captivating game of Words with Friends—Dad is currently kicking my ass—I hear a throat clear, causing me to finally tear my gaze away from my phone.

A dazzling smile greets me as my eyes meet the bright blue ones of the friend Rugged Man was sitting with. Yes, I’ve deemed him Rugged Man, because I never got his name, and I-Want-To-Take-Him-Home-And-Play-Naughty-Nurse-Until-He-Makes-Me-Come Man is just way too much of a mouthful. Come to think of it, I bet he’s a mouthful, too…

Blue Eyes clears his throat again, and I can feel the crimson blush creep onto my cheeks as I push the erotic thoughts out of my mind.

“Hey, Charlotte, right?” he asks, and I groan to myself, wondering if Rugged Man told his friend about my less than stellar flirting abilities.

Taking a drink of my beer, I swallow before answering. “Yes, I’m Charlotte. I’m assuming your nameless friend over there told you that,” I comment, tilting my beer towards the table where his two buddies are sitting.

He laughs and nods, and on any other day I’d probably be swooning at the sight of him. Unfortunately, I saw the other guy up close and personal first, and despite his rejection, I still want him more. Setting his crutches against the bar, he studies me before holding his hand out. I place mine in it, and his strong fingers close in around mine as we shake hands.

“Jace McAllister. Look, I couldn’t help but over hear your…non-conversation earlier, and I just wanted to tell you that it’s not you.”

Unable to contain my laughter, I nearly choke on the sip of beer I just took and it burns my nose when I snort. Real sexy, Charlie. Rubbing my hands over my face, I cannot believe what I’m hearing. “Oh, Jesus. Fucking custodians and now the brush-off? Are you seriously giving me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line for your friend? Please, God, tell me this is not happening.”

His brow furrows and he starts to protest, but my tirade continues. “Look, my life is pathetic enough. I’m sitting in the middle of a bar, playing Words with Friends with my dad while my best friend salivates over guys playing pool. I try, for the first time in two months, to talk to a guy and he’s not even interested in my name. And you know what? Yesterday, I’d be a huge melting pool of lust with one look in your mouthwateringly gorgeous blue eyes—bluer than I’ve ever seen to tell you the truth—but today? Nope. All I see is Rugged Man. So please, take your ‘it’s not you’ and shove it up his ass.”

I huff and down the rest of my drink, slightly mortified that I just went off like that but patting myself on the back at the same time. Jace is staring at me, eyes wide for just a moment before he busts out laughing, shaking his head at first me and then someone behind us. Turning around, I see Rugged Man scowling at both of us before turning to talk to the other guy sitting next to him. After glaring at him, I turn back around to Jace, who’s still chuckling.

“One, I’m not going anywhere near his ass, so you can forget that. Two, he didn’t send me over here to say anything, and I’m not here to hit on you. I swear. I’m happily taken. Here’s the thing. He’s not exactly in the best place right now, but he really doesn’t mean to be an asshole. He just comes across that way.”

I sigh, realizing I’m not surprised this one’s in a relationship. She must be one lucky lady. “Why are you telling me this? He wasn’t even really a jerk. He just…gave me the brush-off. It’s no big deal. Really. It’s fine. I don’t need an explanation.” Shooting him a confident smile, I pray he’s done with this line of conversation. It’s mortifying enough that I look so pathetic sitting by myself that he had to approach me, and I don’t want him thinking I need him to apologize for his friend.

He nods and positions his crutches so that he can get up from the stool. “I believe you. I just wanted to make sure that you knew that he has issues right now and any other time I know he’d be dying to ask you out. Maybe we’ll see you around, Charlotte?”

As much as I’d love to get to know these guys, I’m silently hoping I never have to see them again and that this night will become a very distant memory. Instead, I grin at him. “Sure. I’m sure we’ll run into each other sometime around town. Y’all have a good night.”

He gives me one last look before crutching back to his table. I watch him expertly maneuver across the bar, and I can’t help my take one last glance at Rugged Man. His eyes are watching me, and a cocky grin spreads across his face as he catches me checking him out. Before I can do anything, Lucy finally remembers that I’m here and she stands in front of me, blocking my view. She has the two pool players with her and she introduces them to me as Ben and Michael. They’re both attractive and friendly as we move to a high-top table and make easy conversation.

It becomes pretty apparent that Lucy’s wanting us to pair up, and as nice as this guy is, I can’t stop sneaking peeks at the object of my night’s affections. As the next two hours pass, I can feel his eyes watching me, and I swear I catch a scowl on his face when Michael’s hand grazes the small of my back when we get up to leave.

Right before exiting the bar, I take one last look back. His dark eyes pierce mine, momentarily paralyzing me in my spot. The cocky grin is gone, and all I see is lust, anger, and something else. The combination confuses me. His eyes graze down my body one last time, and I’m mesmerized as my legs begin to gravitate towards him. Before I can make it two steps, Lucy grabs my arm and leads me out of the bar, my eyes not leaving his until the door closes in my face

Knox

I WAKE up with a pounding headache, wishing I hadn’t had so much to drink the night before. I haven’t been able to drink in months, first from being deployed and then from the pain pills. That combined with the lack of appetite I’ve had lately, also because of the damn pills, makes for one fucking lightweight. Feeling like a teenager who got drunk for the first time, my mouth is dry as hell, and my stomach is rolling. I’m regretting the extra tequila shots I took after I blew that girl off.

Getting up out of the bed, I’m thankful that Cohen helped me put on a pair of basketball shorts last night before he headed to the guest room. His being gone is really going to suck ass. I’m probably going to end up smelling awful and looking like a bum. There’s no way I’m letting some strange guy help me get dressed.

As I brush my teeth, I can hear Cohen moving around the kitchen and I silently beg the gods of hangovers that he’s brewing coffee. I desperately need caffeine after a night of drinking and then tossing and turning with thoughts of the beautiful Charlotte, whose gorgeous whiskey colored eyes have been on my mind since we last locked gazes before her friend dragged her out of the bar with those two asshole guys.