Michaela Jameson was known for throwing the best parties around. But she was very picky over whom she invited to these blow outs and unless she had called you up and invited you personally, there was no chance in hell you were getting in her house. Thankfully, she was also a good friend of mine and the biggest gossip in town. Me showing up with Dakota, instead of with Kirk, was sure to start getting around soon enough, which suited me just fine.
As I drove to Michaela’s house a few miles down the road of Dakota’s place, we chatted a bit and I quickly realized that he was not the party type. He barely, if ever, attended one. And he was very apprehensive about going to a stranger’s house, but I was quick to assure him Michaela would not mind because he was with me.
I wanted him to be as comfortable around me as possible, but that probably wasn’t very easy for him. Being in a stranger’s place with another stranger as a companion wasn’t what I would call an ideal situation.
Soon after we arrived, we exited the car and I took Dakota’s hand, towing him behind me as we made our way toward the front porch where several college acquaintances were standing, chatting amiably and drinking beer. I smiled as I hurried passed them and into the house. Though I noticed how they stared at us, I pretended not to and continued on. They were probably surprised to see me walking hand in hand with someone other than Kirk. Their reaction was exactly what I was going for.
Being seen in public with Dakota was just the first step in this wicked plan of mine.
Swaying provocatively through the front door, I glanced around, noting that although the party was invitation only, there were at least fifty people crowding the place. About ninety percent of them were acquaintances and only a few new faces popped out here and there, which led me to assume that like Dakota, they, too, were accompanying someone Michaela had invited.
The music was pumping, the beer was flowing, and the atmosphere was cheerful. Even I was getting in the mood to party. Heartbreak was not nearly enough to stop me from having fun.
“Well, there you are.” A female voice carried over toward us. I turned to my left and spotted a grinning Michaela prancing in our direction. “I thought you wouldn’t show.”
Standing as close to Dakota as possible without making him uncomfortable, I smiled back. “And miss out on this fun. No way,” I said.
Michaela took a moment to inspect Dakota. Her eyes casually ran over him, taking in his appearance. When she was done ogling him, she looked at me and smiled. That simple gesture was like her stamp of approval.
“And who is this you’ve brought along with you?” She grinned.
“This is Dakota.” I gestured toward Michaela with my free hand as I said, “Dakota, this is my good friend, Michaela.”
Looking every bit as nervous as I knew he was, Dakota extended his hand for Michaela, which she took.
“It’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand briefly before releasing it. “Where’s Kirk?” she asked me. I knew the question was more out of curiosity than anything else. Like Delilah, Michaela could not stand Kirk either.
Dakota tensed a bit at Michaela’s question, but recovered swiftly.
“Kirk and I are history,” I informed her, raising my chin up bit, keeping my gaze locked on her. “I’m here with my friend, Dakota.”
At my response Michaela squealed excitedly. “Really? You finally got rid of that loser?”
I nodded.
“Thank goodness. It was about time you realized he was no good for you.” She clapped her hands enthusiastically. “I’m happy for you.”
“I’m happy too.” I smiled.
“Do you want anything to drink?” She looked first at me then at Dakota.
“Beer,” Dakota and I replied simultaneously.
Smiling, Michaela turned and started walking toward the kitchen. “Follow me.”
Tugging on Dakota’s hand, I started after Michaela. “Try to have fun.”
He looked at me and shrugged. “I’m here because I need the distraction. It was not my intention to have fun.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then why come at all?”
“Because it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
I stopped halfway to the kitchen. “You want to leave already?”
Dakota ran one hand over his long black hair, which he had left untied and sighed heavily. “No. I don’t want to leave,” he replied at last.
Beaming, I started forward again, towing him behind me as I push my way through the heavy traffic of humans. Within moments we were in the kitchen where Michaela was busy grabbing a pair of beers from the fridge.
“Here you go.” She handed one to me and another to Dakota. “Have you seen Delilah? She promised to be here but she’s not.”
Releasing Dakota’s hand, I uncapped my beer, and took one short sip before answering, “She’ll be here. She probably got stuck in traffic or something. You know she never misses a party.”
“Where could she be?” Michaela glanced over my shoulder. “There’s something important I need to talk to her about.”
“Still trying to get with her brother?” I asked.
She bobbed her head up and down. “Guilty.”
We both laughed.
Taking a step forward, she leaned in closer, and whispered, “Kudos on the hottie. He’s cute,” she said. “Where did you find him?”
Turning to my left, I noted Dakota drinking quietly, his gaze intently watching the crowd of dancers moving around in the living room. Unsure of whether or not he’d heard, I turned my attention back to Michaela and said, “We’re just friends. And he’s from campus.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Really? I don’t remember ever seeing him.”
“Well, it’s a big school.” And he probably avoided the crowd of people my friends and I usually hung out with.
She laughed. “I don’t know him, but I already like him more than I ever did Kirk.”
So far, at least one of my friends already approved of Dakota. Though he was nothing to me, not even a friend, I did feel comfortable around him. However, I had to remind myself that I wasn’t befriending him because I liked him but because, unknowingly or not, he was going to help me get back at my cheating ex-boyfriend.
“I do too,” I said.
Winking at me, Michaela straightened and said, “Well, I have to go mingle for a little bit.” And by that, I knew she meant that she was going to wait for Delilah near the front door. Knowing Delilah, she had probably gone home to change before making an appearance, so it could be a while before she showed up.
“There’s plenty of beer to go around. So please, make yourselves at home.” She gestured to the fridge. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
Waving, Michaela sashayed away toward the living room where she disappeared amongst the sea of people.
“She’s interesting,” Dakota finally said.
“You have no idea.” I turned to my left, looking at him as I added, “But she’s a hoot.”
He nodded. “I bet she is.” He took a long swig of beer before setting it on the counter to his right. “I want another.”
“Beer?” I asked, my eyes widening as I realized he’d finished his while I’d barely put a dent on mine.
“Yeah.” There was a look in his eyes that I could not quite read.
“Are you sure you should be drinking at all? I don’t know why, but I have a feeling you’re not much of a drinker.”
He actually laughed. “I’m not. I never drink. But I think I’m going to make an exception tonight.”
And just like that, I recognized the emotion hidden behind his gaze. It was despair. He was finally feeling the full effect of being betrayed. He wanted to get drunk. He wanted to drink his sorrows away. He wanted to forget, if only momentarily, the pain triggered by his girlfriend’s actions.
I handed over my beer to him and he took it. Instead of drinking it though, he just stood there and stared at me. I have no idea what went through his mind at that exact moment, but for the first time in my life I desperately wanted to read someone else’s mind. Know what they were thinking.
Shaking his head as if to clear it of unpleasant thoughts, Dakota gulped down the remainder of my beer. I watched as some of the liquid dribbled down his chin and though I would deny it to end if anyone asked me, I felt the sudden itch to reach up and lick the golden liquid off of his skin with my tongue. I so desperately wanted to know what his skin tasted like and the powerful urge was strong enough to force my insides to grow heated just thinking about it.
Whoa! What the hell? What am I thinking? It’s the lack of a sex life. Yeah, that has to explain my perverted thoughts.
My cheeks burning, I opted for distracting myself by looking away before I ended up embarrassing us both. Having inappropriate thoughts about my companion wasn’t going to help either or us. Sure, he was attractive in his own way. He was tall and well-built. His face was perfectly sculpted with high cheek bones, a pair of full lips, and hawk like nose, which only added to his allure. Regardless whether he was my type or not, at that moment, I found him more than just a little interesting.
He was downright hot.
I had no idea if it was the ambience, the odd predicament we found ourselves in, or the heat of the moment, but I wanted to reach out and kiss him so badly it actually scared me. I couldn’t, under any circumstance, allow myself to feel anything for Dakota.
Glancing around the room, I spotted a roll of paper towel on the counter. Reaching out for it, I tore a disposable paper towel from the rest and glanced up to look at Dakota just as he set the empty beer can next to the other. He looked at me too and our gazes held then. Neither of us looked away or even tried to.
My heart slammed into my chest as I stared into those ebony eyes. I was so used to being the intimidator, the one people avoided looking directly at, but as we gawked at each other it literally felt as if the world had stopped spinning, as if the hands of time had suddenly stopped, as if we were the only two human beings alive. This was a first for me and because I’d never experienced anything like it, I was utterly baffled.
Jesus, what the hell is wrong with me?
Exhaling heavily, I folded the paper towel in half and then extended my hand toward Dakota’s face, using it to wipe his chin clean. He didn’t move, didn’t take his eyes off of me, didn’t react to me at all. I, on the other hand, couldn’t look at him directly anymore. For the first time ever I was actually forced to look away first. That strange and foreign sensation I’d had moments earlier had been too much for me and I had to concentrate on something else. Touching him didn’t help either. If anything, it made it worse.
Snatching my hand away, I tossed the paper towel aside and turned to my right, glancing at the crowd of people moving to the blaring music in the next room.
“I need another drink,” I heard Dakota say as he moved toward the fridge.
“Are you looking to get drunk?” I asked, avoiding eye contact.
“It would be nice,” he mumbled as he opened the refrigerator and took out another beer.
Realizing that he had every intention of getting drunk, I decided not to drink at all. I would have to act as the designated driver for the night. Though the idea of him drinking to numb the hurt didn’t appeal to me, I knew he needed it. So, instead of objecting, I allowed him to gulp down another three beers without saying a word.
By the seventh beer he was more than a little tipsy and it soon became very apparent that because he was not one to consume alcohol regularly, he was as drunk after having consumed seven beers as Kirk had been after a few tequila shots.
Watching Dakota drink was an experience. He didn’t overinflate his ego by putting on a show. He didn’t bust out in laughter over a joke only a drunken person could understand. He did not try to make conversation with anyone that entered the kitchen or with me for that matter. He just stood in one spot and emptied out can after can. Occasionally, he would stop to look at me and frown, but would continue downing beers immediately after.
It wasn’t until he took out his Blackberry from his jean’s pocket, pressed on several buttons until the picture gallery popped up that I seized the opportunity to put plan B in motion.
“Dakota?” I walked to him and paused to his right, facing him.
He looked at me and frowned, again. “What?”
“If you had the opportunity to win Margaret back, would you?” I watched closely for his reaction.
His eyes widened. “Win her back? How am I going to do that?”
A light bulb turned on in my head. He was interested. Perfect. Now I only needed to convince him to work alongside me.
“Do you love her still?” I asked, pressing my lower back against the counter behind us, bending my leg at the knee so that the sole of my right boot was planted against the cabinet. I didn’t look at him, but from my peripheral vision I could tell he was staring at my thighs.
“What are you getting at?” He looked away finally.
“Well, I don’t really know Margaret, but she gives me the impression of being the kind of girl that likes to be begged.” Straightening up, I reached up and skimmed the tips of my fingers over his swollen lip. “You know, she will probably want you to fight tooth and nail for her. Which, in a way, you’ve already done.”
Grasping my hand, he turned to face me. His grip was firm but soft. “And?”
“And what if you go to her, talk to her, and she still decides that she’s better off with that loser, Kirk?” I said, wiggling free of his hold.
His eyes were fixated on me. I could have sworn my body temperature elevated.
“So what are you saying exactly?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Oh, nothing. Just that I don’t think you should beg, especially since she was the one that screwed things up between you two.”
“It was never my intention to go out and beg her to take me back,” he admitted. “I still have dignity left,” he growled, taking a step toward me only to stumble forward.
I had to reach out, grab a hold of his forearms, and steady him before he fell and took us both down. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch. And just that simple contact elevated my body temperature another notch.
“But there is another, more dignified, way of fighting,” I said, ignoring the way my body betrayed my frame of mind.
Dakota squinted, trying to look at me through his glasses. Apparently, he was having trouble seeing. Or was seeing double by this point. I’d been drunk before and I knew from experience it’s kind of scary when you can see three people instead of one and can’t determine for sure which one is real and which one is just the booze’s effect on the mind.
“And what would that be?”
“Ever heard of fighting jealousy with jealousy?” I smiled, releasing his arms when he did not lose his footing again.
“No,” he replied. “Explain that to me.”
“It’s simple, really. If instead of waiting for her to decide who she wants to be with, whether Kirk or you, or fighting him for her, maybe you’re better off pretending as if from now on she’s nonexistent. Pretend you’re interested in someone else. Even if you’re not. Nothing affects how a girl perceives herself more than the realization that she can be easily forgotten.”
It took but a moment for my comment to set in, and I recognized the second his brain was in the same page as mine because his left eyebrow arched slightly.
“I wasn’t going to fight for her. How I reacted earlier…it was out of…anger. It’s not like I’m going to kick Kirk’s ass every time I see him from now on.”
“That’s good to know, but doesn’t my plan seem a little more…appealing?”
“So, basically you’re asking me to pretend—now, correct me if I’m wrong here—that you and I are together? Pretend like we’re dating?”
I fought the urge to grin. “You catch on fast.”
Dakota placed one hand on the counter and leaned against it a bit as he looked at me.
“What do you get out of this?”
Ah, so he knows I want something out of this. How smart of him to notice.
“What else would a girl like me want?” I challenged with a lift of my chin.
“I know for a fact you don’t want Kirk back since you said yourself that you were happy to be rid of him,” he said. “So what do you really want?”
“Payback. Plain and simple. I know Kirk. And he has an ego the size of a tower. The moment he hears that we,” I poked at Dakota’s chest with one finger, “are supposedly dating, he will come back with his tail tucked in between his legs and when he does, I will humiliate him. It’s only fair, since he played me for a fool.”
Running one hand over his brow, Dakota straightened up and frowned. “You’re the type of person that always gets what she wants, aren’t you?”
Placing both hands on my hips, I scoffed. “So what if I do?”
The only reason I got my way all the time was because I knew how to play my deck of cards. I was born with the natural ability to manipulate others. It was like a gift. A Godsend. And so far, it had never failed me.
He shook his head. “So we will be partners then, you and me?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“How are you two holding up?” Michaela voice’s interrupted whatever else Dakota was about to add. “You look like you’re having fun Dakota.”
Turning to face her, Dakota nodded. “I am.”
“Do you two want another beer?” she asked.
“Sure,” we replied at the same time.
“Did Delilah show up?” I asked as she sauntered away toward the fridge.
“Yeah, she’s around.” Opening the fridge door, she took two more beers out. “Oh, by the way, she’s looking for you.”
“I’ll go seek her out in a minute,” I said as she handed me a beer.
“Thank you.” Dakota took his, opened it, and began to drink. I left mine unopened.
“Don’t worry. I’ll go tell her you’re busy.” She winked at me and I smiled.
“If I don’t see her…well, I guess I’ll text her tomorrow,” I added, hinting at more than what my actual words said. Of course, nothing was going to happen between Dakota and me, but hey, I had to play things out as best as I could.
A knowing look crossed her face. “Oh, I get it.” She laughed. “I’ll see you later then.”
“Yeah, later. Maybe.”
“Sure thing.” Beaming, Michaela rushed out of the kitchen, leaving us alone again.
By the time my attention was centered on Dakota again I noticed he had already gulped down his beer and was reaching for mine, which I placed on the counter behind me and out of reach.
“I don’t think you could use another beer,” I said firmly.
He just shook his head. “I want another.”
“No.” Grabbing on to his arm, I coaxed him away from the counter. “I think you should go home and sleep it off. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”
He shrugged. “So?”
“So you have to go home and rest,” I insisted, looping his arm over my shoulders so that he could lean on me as we walked. Being that he was tipsy enough to stumble, I was afraid he would fall and not be able to get up. And I would not be able to help him up without assistant. He was much taller than me and possibly heavier than I anticipated.
“Now you’re ready to leave?” he asked, gazing down at me.
“I’m ready to take you home, yes.”
The corners of his mouth curved up a bit. “What about our discussion?”
“I think we should talk while you’re sober.”
He puckered his brow. “Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”