Page 6 of Damaged
Chapter Four
Eva
After dinner with Brett last night, we decided that tonight we’d try out the wingman thing. The way he went through things, step by step, made me laugh. He acts like this is war and I need to have all the intel on everything.
Sitting on my bed, wrapped in a towel from the shower, I blow out a breath. I’m not a nervous person, not anymore. I’ve been through enough to learn not to sweat the small things. Although, for some reason tonight I’m nervous. I have no idea why, it’s just Brett.
After I finish getting ready, I check myself out. Not bad. I put some curls in my long brown hair, my brown eyes really pop with this amount of makeup, and my slender body fits in this black dress like a dream. I’m ready. Well as ready as I’ll ever be.
I call for a cab because I intend on not being able to drive home tonight, or going home with someone, so I won’t have to worry about my car. Grabbing my cell phone while I wait, I toss it into my red purse and slide into my red fuck me heels. It’s been a long time since I’ve slipped into these. Looking down at them, I hear a horn honk. I give myself a pep talk as I leave.
Digging through my purse, I find my cell phone. Brett’s name sits in my almost near empty contact list, and I swipe at it and hit send.
“Hey Eva,” he says, his deep voice sounding all sexy.
“Hey. I’m just pulling up to the bar. Where are you?” I ask.
“Waiting by the front door. Don’t worry, I’d never make you come looking for me. I’ll see you in a minute,” he says, hanging up.
Okay. I toss my phone away and pay the cab driver, before climbing out. Walking toward the door, I spot Brett right away. He’s impossible to miss. Leaning against the side of the building with his muscular, tattooed arms crossed. Gray shirt clinging tight to his well defined body, with a smirk that just screams sex. Which doesn’t go unnoticed by the hoards of women walking past him. It makes me roll my eyes as I step up to him.
“What the hell do you need me for? You standing here has them ready to drop their panties,” I say, lifting my chin in annoyance.
He chuckles and I snap my attention toward him. His playful blue eyes sparkle, as he steps toward me. “Do I sense a bit of jealousy, Miss Chapman?”
Jealousy? He’s got to be fucking kidding. Jealous of what? Of him rapidly spreading syphilis? No, I’m not jealous. “What you sense, Mr. Cocky as Fuck, is a distaste for the many skanks that parade around acting like no one stands a chance. Yet, they will drop their panties with a wink and a nod. Jealousy is not an emotion I have.”
Full blown laughing, he wraps his strong arms around me, lifting me off the ground. “Eva, you’re too much.” Putting me on my feet, a smile still gracing his handsome face, he continues, “Let’s go. Oh, and Mr. Cocky as Fuck, is that a nickname you think will stick?”
Shaking my head, I can’t help but smile at his dumbass. We walk inside and his hand rests on the small of my back. Damn, his touch is soft, yet commanding. Fucking hot. When we weave our way to the bar, he pulls out my stool for me, and I raise an eyebrow.
“What are you doing?”
He sits next to me, titling his head in question. “I was going to order us a drink, why?”
Shit. What am I thinking? He’s just being nice. I’m the one thinking he’s flirting or something. “Oh, I know. I meant, what are you doing as in your plan for tonight?” Holy shit, that has to be the worse cover up in the history of cover ups.
Laughing, he winks. “Sure you did. Well considering we just sat down, I’m thinking I’d like to have at least one drink before we get to work. I mean if that’s alright with you.”
I need to pull myself together. This is ridiculous. What the hell is wrong with me? “Yeah, I definitely need one or ten,” I joke….kind of.
After three drinks, and lots of laughing because of Brett, he finally spins around in his seat. I don’t say anything, just watch. His eyes carefully scan the room, as he searches for what he wants. It’s interesting to watch, almost like a craft he’s perfected over time. What is truly mind blowing is the second I notice when he sees what he wants. A small grin slips into place, his mischievous eyes get brighter, and he slightly nods, pushing back his dark hair.
Peeking at me, he wiggles his eyebrows. “Okay, you ready for this?”
Tossing back the rest of my drink, I smile. “Damn right.”
“Three o’clock, the red head. No way is that douche canoe her boyfriend. You make your move on him, and I’ll come over in a few minutes,” he says.
Looking over to the table he is talking about, I burst out laughing. Turning toward him, I shake my head. “No.”
“No? Come on, you don’t need to leave with the guy. Just distract him for a little while.”
“First of all, this isn’t all about you. More importantly, that girl is not someone you want to mess around with. She’ll agree to just sex, but believe me when I say the chances of her boiling her rabbit are extremely high,” I say, trying not to laugh with every word.
His eyes get huge, and he peeks over at her quickly before looking back at me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Do I look like I’m fucking kidding. That girl is a bunch of crazy wrapped in a red headed package,” I tell him.
“Well shit. I would never have guessed, and I’m pretty good with knowing,” he says, squeezing the back of his neck with his large hand.
“Told you I’d make one hell of a wingman,” I say, giving him a wink.
A small laugh escapes, and he reaches down, squeezing my knee. “Yeah, you definitely did.”
