Accidental Neighbor by Sharon Woods
Chapter 2
Jennifer
My mouth is moving but no words are coming out; the back of my head is screaming in pain. I continue to stare into his smoldering gaze as I rub the area with my hand to soothe the ache. The slight buzz from the alcohol is helping dampen the pain but isn’t helping the flush creeping across my skin.
His eyes squint, causing creases to form near them. His teeth are straight, white, and perfect. His brown hair is tousled neatly on top of his head. My hand is twitching to see what it would feel like. What is wrong with me?
I watch his mouth move and realize he is talking to me. Shit!
“Sorry?” I whisper, my eyes still locked on his stunning face. How can a man be this hot? I don't think I have ever met a man on this level. I still can't form any words. His beauty takes my breath and words away. I just continue my stare until he chuckles.
Then he lets out a deep belly laugh at my trance. “I was trying to say, Oh, honey or say my name are really good drinks.”
He moves forward to lean across me, pointing at the drinks he mentioned on the menu. The alcohol thrumming through my veins makes my movements slower than usual but his rich, warm spicy vanilla scent fills my nostrils, causing them to flare and take a deeper inhale. Shit, he smells good.
My skin prickles with goosebumps and I blink, snapping my thoughts back to the here and now. Get a grip, Jen!
“Ahhh, I see. I understand now.” My voice comes out husky and I clear my throat and try again. “Which one would you say is better?” My voice sounds better this time.
Moving to the side so I can face him better, I lean my arm on the bar for support.
Am I flirting?
I cringe inwardly but it’s not enough to stop myself in this tipsy state. He is evoking a behavior that is foreign but also refreshing. I didn't think I had desires for a guy, but this man is stirring me up inside.
“Hmm, tough call. It depends.” He tips his head back and taps his chin, his face etched in concentration. “Let me ask you some questions.”
I nod back, unable to say anything, my focus caught on the movement of his finger which is all too close to his full lips. His lips are pink and I want to feel them crushed against mine. I bet they are soft and taste amazing. But it's not me; I’m not a bold enough person to make a move on a man first.
Turning his face back to me, he continues. “Light and fresh or citrus with hints of sweet?”
Oh, right. He was asking me questions. Focus, Jen.
“Oh, definitely citrus with a hint of sweet.” My voice is still husky but at least I am forming flowing sentences now.
“Vanilla and honey or honey with spices?”
Thinking of his sexy scent, I respond without a second thought. “Honey and spices.” His lips tip up at the side and I worry that maybe I’m being too transparent. I glance down at the bar before meeting his gaze again.
“And your last drink question.” He rubs his jaw. I notice he has a five-o’clock shadow starting. “Sherry with dried fruit or peaches and lemonade?”
“Easy—peaches and lemonade.”
“Good choice.” He nods and waves down a bartender.
“What brings you here tonight?” he asks.
“It’s my friend’s birthday.”
“Nice.” Before I can ask why he is here, a bartender arrives in front of us.
“I’ll grab a redbreast lustau, and one say my name.” He winks at me.
My cheeks heat and my lips part before I blurt, “What is it with the names of these drinks? Redbreast?”
Seriously? I just said that out loud.
I pinch my lips together so no other embarrassing words slip out.
Paying the bartender, he then leans on the bar toward me, making no plans on moving out the way or ending this conversation. His attention is solely on me, which for some reason doesn’t bother me at all. I want it.
I want more.
“I have no idea but clearly they were drunk or horny… or both.” He shrugs and throws me a lopsided grin.
With the mention of the word, my eyes lower to his lips and his mouth twitches, giving me the confirmation he knows exactly what I'm thinking. His tongue comes out and skims across his lower lip. I’m so transfixed with the movement, I don’t realize I’ve caught my own lip between my teeth until his thumb reaches out and tugs it free.
“Please don’t tease.” I freeze. The feeling of his hand on my face has set the spot alight and I close my eyes at the heat burning beneath my skin.
What is happening to me?
I normally only attract playboys who want to have fun for the night, not this type of attention. The older, successful, sexy man.
“Here you go.”The bartender places our drinks on the counter, interrupting my thoughts. Turning to face the bar, my mystery man drops his hand and I reach for what I assume is my drink, given its colorful appearance compared to the amber whiskey-like liquid in the other, and I take a large sip.
A deep laugh leaves his chest. I don’t care; I need to cool myself down. I have never had a reaction to a man like this. I feel like I am about to combust. The sweet drink hits my tongue and leaves a hint of a tart finish.
The bartender is about to leave and serve another patron waiting to order.
“Could I order a bowl of fries—delivered to my table?” Trying to remember the table number. “Table four, if I'm not too late.” He looks at the time on his watch, then looks back at me.
“Cut off was about ten minutes ago. But for fries that shouldn't be an issue.” My shoulders sag. Lucky. If I need fries I'm certain Olivia and the table will need something to eat to soak up the amount of alcohol consumed tonight.
The bartender strides off to put my order in and I take another sip of my drink. “Mmm, this is so yummy. Thanks. Even though my mom would be mortified I accepted a drink from a stranger.”
I could kick myself; what a childlike thing to blurt. I must be turning him off now.
“Well, I would have to agree with her there, you shouldn’t. But we aren’t strangers.” He picks up his drink and takes a sip. “Thomas but most people call me Tom.” He holds his other hand out in front of me.
“Hi, Tom.” I like the way his name rolls off my tongue; it suits him. “Jennifer but people call me Jen.” My smile grows and I slip my hand into his; the soft warm hand wraps around mine with ease.
“Beautiful,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s referring to just my name.
I lower my head briefly as I feel my cheeks flush hotter and glance away from his prolonged eye contact, separating our hands. Needing a distraction, I stare out to the dance floor, noticing a few couples dancing seductively, others kissing, and some simply having fun dancing to the music. Totally not helping to distract my mind.
“Have you been to The Boilermaker before?” he asks.
Being this close to him, I can tell he is older than me—my guess mid-thirties, judging by the eye creases, the confidence, and the conversation. I have never been attracted to older guys but Thomas is hot. And there is a spark between us that I can’t deny. His undivided attention and genuinely wanting to get to know me, not just wanting sex from me, has my heart skipping a beat.
I go to take a sip, but I knock my glass over. Thomas manages to reach out, saving it from falling over and smashing against the bar. Only a slight splash falls out of the rim of the glass and onto the surface, making me realize I need to get back to my table and eat my fries before I have any more embarrassing accidents. But I don’t want to leave; I want to continue the conversation.
“Actually, no. I rarely go out. I work a lot and I prefer to stay home or have dinner with a glass of wine with my friends.” I glance around the bar, fiddling with my hair. “This place is really chill. I’m surprisingly enjoying myself.”
He nods. “This is my first time here too. I can't normally go out but tonight I’m with a bunch of friends celebrating a work promotion.”
My brows frown at his comment.
What does that mean?
“Can’t?” I ask.
“Would you like to dance with me?” He doesn't answer my question, but I figure it’s rude to push a stranger to talk. He must not want to discuss it further, so I don't probe. Do I want to dance with him? I wonder what it would be like to have his soft hand in mine, his large toned body close to mine. My mouth suddenly dries; unable to talk, I scoop up my drink and take a sip, wetting my mouth so I can answer him.
“Yes, I would love to. Let me finish this drink first; it’s too good to waste.”
I don’t want my mouth to dry out on the dance floor.
He smirks, and I finish my drink in a few gulps while he downs the rest of his drink in one pull. I don’t know if it’s the buzz from the alcohol giving me confidence but as soon as he places his glass down, he reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me to the dance floor behind him, leading me through the crowd as bodies press all around us, dancing to the music. The last few songs have changed from upbeat to slow. There is a dim light over the floor, highlighting all the sweaty bodies all around us. He suddenly stops in a section of the crowd. He spins me around to face him, stopping me in my tracks. “Oh,” slips out of my mouth.
“Are you okay?” he asks, staring down at me, a soft smile playing on his lips.
I grin back; he is such a gentleman. “Yes.” I nod.
My palms start to sweat and my heart is racing inside my chest. This pull between us is a new feeling for me, but I want to explore it. More importantly, explore him.
His other hand reaches for my free one that's hanging beside my body. He skims his fingertips over my forearm, setting the skin on fire. He is holding both of my hands in his. I don’t care if he can feel the clammy palms I have as I figure we are about to be sweaty all over. My heart is still beating wildly in my chest, but I start to move my hips to the music. I am not a professional dancer, but I love music and being around Thomas is making me feel confident.
I take the opportunity to check him out properly from head to toe. An appreciative grin appears on my lips as I take in his muscular frame that is covered in a tight black long-sleeve top and dark low-hung jeans, finishing his sexy look with suede black shoes.
The song changes to the sexy song “Positions”by Ariana Grande which has me shaking my head and laughing at the timing.
Thomas suddenly closes the distance between us, separating our joined hands, taking a step toward me so we have only an inch between us. His hands snake softly around my stomach to my lower back, causing my insides to flood with warmth. Reaching up, I put my hands on his muscled shoulders, skimming my way up until my hands link behind his neck. With just inches separating us, he starts moving to the beat of the music. I lock eyes with him and let him lead.
We dance to the soft music, our bodies naturally flush against each other, allowing me to feel his body against mine. He is taller than me, yet he cocoons me perfectly, and I feel safe against his body right now. He has me craving more, more closeness, more touch, more of everything he could offer.
I move my head to the crook of his neck, gently laying it on his shoulder. His head leans against mine and I can feel his fingers tracing up and down my back, strumming to the music. This connection gives me a comfortable feeling, one I haven't felt with a guy before.
I feel like I have known him longer than a few minutes.
One of his hands leaves my back and he strokes the side of my face, the touch soft. A sigh slips my lips and I slowly lift my head up off his shoulder. I gaze into his heated dark eyes while my heart flutters and beats wildly in my chest. As he leans forward, his hand moves to the back of my head, his eyes fluttering closed. My mouth parts and I meet his lips with mine. As we kiss, my eyes drift closed, and I melt into his kiss. His soft full lips then take control of mine, directing the kiss with his mouth.
My hands explore his neck to kiss him back harder. I feel his tongue hitting my lips, trying to gain access. When I part my lips, his tongue plunges into my mouth, tangling with my own. He tastes of mixed spice and dried fruit. I groan at the flavor.
My hand thrusts from his neck straight into his tousled hair, pulling him closer to me and hardening the kiss. His other hand slides down a little further, settling on my lower back. The world around us seems to be quiet and I block it all out, enjoying this moment until I need more air. I disconnect my lips and let my hands slide out from his hair and rest on the nape of his neck. Pinching my swollen lips together, I gaze into his eyes as I take deep shaky breaths. His eyes are heated and heavy-lidded. His hair is now wet and sticking to his forehead. I restrain from pushing it off his forehead.
“I think I need some water. Uh, it's really hot in here,” I whisper.
“Let's head back to the bar, shall we?” He unexpectedly leans down and pecks my lips softly before he leans back, smirking at my mouth hanging open.
Thomas grabs my hand as we weave through the crowd to make our way back to the bar. When we approach, I realize I haven't seen Olivia in a while. I look down the bar to the last place I saw her but she’s not there. Maybe she went dancing or back to the table. I decide I really want to check and make sure she is okay, considering she consumed a lot of alcohol tonight for a small person.
I glance back at Thomas. “Do you mind grabbing me some water? I need to find my friend. It’s her birthday tonight and I should really check in on her.”
He nods with a smile. “Of course.”
I glance down at our joined hands and watch as I slowly remove mine, feeling cool air on my palm. I really wish I didn’t have to go right now. I clench my hands.
“I'll be right back,” I whisper. I quickly turn around, squeezing myself through the crowd. I glance back over my shoulder to see Thomas watching me. I smile and bite my lip, ducking my head and hurrying to find Olivia back at the table.
Arriving at the table I scan around to see Katie, Jackson, and all his friends. There is no sign of Olivia, but I spot the bowl of fries I ordered, half-eaten.I grab a few and eat them. They haven’t noticed me. Clearing my throat, I say, “Katie, Jackson, have either of you seen Olivia?” They both stop their conversation and peer up, then start looking around. “No, last we saw she was at the bar.”
“Haven't seen her in a while. She is hammered though. I'll help you look for her.” Katie hops up from the chair and leaves the boys. I grab another handful of fries, munching them on my way to find Olivia.
We wander around, unable to locate her. I take the opportunity to ask Katie some questions about Jackson.
“What’s going on with you and Jackson?”
“Nothing is going on.” Her tone is laced with sadness. I pull on her arm, halting her to stop to the side.
Her eyes widen, showing more of her pretty blues. “What do you mean? You clearly feel something for him; I can see it in the way you talk to him and the way you two are naturally drawn together.”
She scoffs and mumbles as she gazes down at the floor. “I wish.”
I caught it. I knew I was right. “Go for it. If you want him, why not.” I shrug.
Her eyes shoot back to meet mine as she shakes her head violently. “No way. I can't. He's taken.”
My brows crease; this is news to me. “Since when?”
She lets out a breath she was holding. “Can we not talk about this, please? Let's find Olivia.”
Her voice is strained and even if I want to know more and help, I know that she needs some time. “Of course, let's try the bathroom.”
“Good idea.” We walk off in the direction of the ladies’ room.
We check inside each of the cubicles to find one wide open and Olivia sitting on the floor, hugging the bowl, her head lying on the toilet seat. Her eyes are closed, and her chest is rising and falling. The smell of vomit is strong, so she must have passed out afterward. As if I haven’t had enough vomit for a day. Looks like I'll be forgetting about Thomas tonight.