Hard to Resist Page 2

“I will!” I call back, even though I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I peer out of the window and watch him nod slightly. I wait for a moment but he remains in the center of the driveway. I know he isn’t going to go in until I am out of the neighborhood. Cranking the car, I blow a kiss at him and then pull out of the driveway, making my way to a new destination. To a new place that I hope won’t linger on depression, heartbreak, and pain.

  ****

  Eight hours later and I’m in Miami, Florida. I release a huge breath of relief as I cruise through the city. Nightfall has just hit and it’s a Friday night. The streets are far from clear but they amaze me. On every corner is a night club with lines that extend from the door to the end of the block. I pull my cell out and dial Harper’s number. She answers after the second ring.

  “Natalie! Are you here?” she screams.

  “Yes I am. I’m driving through the city right now. What road do I turn on?”

  “At the end of the street, you’ll see a tall white building. My condo is in the Infinity Condominiums at Brickell. You can’t miss it unless . . . .”

  Harper’s voice continues to ring but I slam on my brakes and my body jerks forward quickly. The wheels of my car come to a screech as I toss my phone to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and gripping the wheel with broad eyes. Staring through the windshield, I notice that someone tall and in a black muscle T-shirt is staring back at me with wide-eyes as well.

  His hands are firmly planted on the hood of my car and, luckily, I missed him by what looks like almost an inch. My heart starts to settle but the beats are still heavy. Climbing out of the car, I rush to the hood but as he stands up and looks down at me with soft grey eyes, I gasp. He is beautiful. His face is . . . ridiculously stunning. Chiseled perfectly. His dark-brown hair is cropped and tousled yet it’s delicious.

  “Are you alright?” His deep voice purrs, humming throughout me, making every part of me flutter softly like the wings of a gentle hummingbird. I continue to stare at him. His broad chest, his jeans that are fit to him snuggly. My gaze meets his again but this time there is a hint of a smile on his lips. Tilting his head lightly, he crosses his arms across his defined chest while continuing to look me over. He licks his bottom lip before speaking again. “Are you okay?” He narrows his eyes innocently.

  I nod stupidly, feeling my hair shaking against my shoulders.

  His chuckle rumbles and I liquefy as my bones turn into Jell-O. “I’m sorry that I ran out like that. I thought I could make it across before you rolled past. I guess I’m not as fast as I thought. That was a close one though, huh?” He grins but I continue to stare at him, my face still dumbstruck. How can a beautiful man like him be so simple? So casual? I’ve never seen such a person. Most gorgeous men like him are usually cocky and a stunt like this would have ticked them off. Cocky people usually blame the whole world for their idiotic actions. He steps in closer and I inhale sharply, forgetting to breathe. “You alright? I’m sorry . . .,” He reaches his hand out to touch me—to most likely see if I’m alive—but I take a leap back as I shake my head and finally begin to breathe again.

  “I’m alright—I’m fine,” I breathe. “I’m just glad that I didn’t . . . run over you.”

  He raises both of his eyebrows. “Oh. Good.” Sighing, he rocks on his heels while tucking the tips of his fingers into his back pockets. “I guess I’ll just be on my way then.” He gives me a charming, heart throbbing smile and to my surprise, I haven’t fallen backwards from a mesmerizing heart attack. His smile is dazzling and his teeth, perfect. Everything about that face of his is perfect. He is undeniably handsome and he has charm. Something that I should steer clear of. “Again, I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his lips quirking up at the corners as his eyes scan me. “Have a great night.”

  I remain glued in my tracks and although people are beeping and yelling for me to get the hell out of their way, I’m frozen. Stuck. How in the hell can he do this to me? I don’t even know him. His beauty can’t cause me to go this numb with adoration . . . can it?

  His footsteps fade and I finally find the will to tear the soles of my sandals from the asphalt and march for my open car door. I have to get to Harper ASAP.

  Chapter Three

  “OH MY GOSH!”

  My body is squeezed tightly as Harper wraps her thin arms around me. I giggle as I hang onto her while she bounces up and down like a six-year-old doped up on candy. After a minute of hugging, she pulls away to look me over. “You look amazing, Nat! I’ve missed you!” she screeches then tugs me in before slamming the door behind us.

  “You look even better!” And I’m not kidding. Harper is gorgeous and always has been. But unlike four years ago when her hair touched her shoulder blades, her straight blonde hair has been cut and layered to touch her shoulders. Her hair fits around her oval-shaped face beautifully. Her makeup is done (like how it always was) and she is still in shape—still the skinny-mini that won’t gain a pound, no matter how much she eats. There is still a rosy red tint to her cheeks and she is still fit. I have to admit that due to my “depression” I had ended up gaining at least five pounds. But Gracey dragged me to the gym every day for a whole month before she ended up getting grounded. Now I use working out as an escape.

  “Were you going somewhere?” I ask, studying her skin-tight plum dress with a cleavage V on the front that cuts down to the middle of her stomach. It’s a club dress. She can’t possibly be trying to go out tonight . . . not tonight. “Harper,” I groan as she grins widely, revealing a full set of square white teeth.

  “Please, Natalie,” she begs, batting her heavily mascaraed eyelashes. “You really need to have fun on this first night. It will be a way to celebrate your arrival. I know a lot of people that would love to meet you. We can settle and unpack tomorrow because tonight, we will own it. I know the manager of the club and he gave me a pass for you and me to drink free, no matter the age. I’m not letting you wallow in self-pity—at least not on my watch. Now, come on. Let’s get dressed,” she insists, eyeing the suitcase in my hand.

  “Sorry to tell you, Harp, but I don’t own any more club or party dresses. I gave them all away.”

  She narrows her crystal-blue eyes at me. “I know you’re lying,” she accuses. “And even if you didn’t, I have plenty. Come on,” she demands again, gripping onto my wrist and dragging me past her brown leather sofas to get to her bedroom. “Let’s get you dolled up.” I groan as she leads the way towards her room. There is no way of winning with Harper but I have to admit that she’s right.

  As soon as all of my things would have been unpacked, I would have curled up with a container of butter pecan Haagen-Dazs ice-cream and watched movies all night. I would have been a complete fat and lazy ass woman but I would have settled with it. I guess I do need to get out. I need to follow my own advice because tonight marks my new start. I will live it up, have fun, and I won’t think about Bryson Daniels . . . the guy that ripped and tore my heart to pieces.

  ****

  An hour later and we’re inside a night club called LIV. I must admit that it is live. People are everywhere, dancing, grinding, and partying with the night theme. I honestly don’t want to party because of the simple fact that parties remind me of him. But I have to get over that. I have to realize that fun can still happen without him.

  “Isn’t this great?” Harper asks, handing me a shot glass full of some sort of vodka while bobbing to the music. I grab the glass from her while nodding my head.

  “It’s amazing. I’m glad you talked me into it!” I shout over the bass.

  “You needed to get out!” she shouts back. She raises her glass to clank hers with mine. “This is for fun . . . tonight. No worries!”

  “To fun!”

  Our glasses clank again and we both immediately toss our drinks back. My face pinches but I take it like how I used to during spring break. Drinking was never a problem for me. I loved to drink whenever I went out. It loosened me up a lot and made me feel lik
e a free woman.

  Now that I think on it, maybe more drinks are what I need. Harper and I walked to this club so we wouldn’t need a ride. We can easily walk back home. There’s nothing holding me back from getting wasted. I’ve had two shots already. Two more and I’ll be the next thing closest to a free woman. “I’m gonna go grab another shot.”

  Harper grins as she hands me the platinum drinking pass that the club manager had given us. I was completely surprised when he’d let us in so easily. Harper must have done something really dirty for him to accept me into his twenty-one and older club. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. “While you’re at it, make the hot guy to our right buy you one. He won’t keep his eyes off of you.”

  I frown slightly, looking from Harper to the tall, broad body to my right. My eyes widen as his meet mine. He’s already staring at me, his lips hinting at a smile. His arms are folded across his chest and the sole of his right foot is pinned against the wall behind him. On his right is another really hot guy with long and wavy sandy-blonde hair and a lip piercing but that guy can’t even compare to the one that’s staring at me. It’s the same guy from earlier. The one that I’d almost ran over. I tear my gaze away to look at Harper who is now looking at me inconspicuously.

  “Do you know him?”

  “Nope,” I say, popping the P.

  “He seems interested. You should give him a dance, at least.”

  “Not right now,” I murmur. “I’m gonna go get us some more shots.” She nods then makes her way towards the dance floor. I can tell that the drinks are already getting to her. She’s had two rounds of tequila and three shots of vodka. I won’t bring her a shot back. I head for the bar, pushing through the crowd until I spot the glowing countertops. I spot an open seat and rush for it but as I do, someone steps in my way, blocking me from taking it.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” the person says.

  “I was going to sit there—”

  I completely stop talking as he stands before me again. He tilts his head softly, gazing down at me with his hand placed on the bar stool. His lips are still hinting at a pleased smile and his grey eyes are still soft, still beautiful and surrounded by lush eyelashes. “This is the second time that you’ve almost crashed into me. We should be more careful,” he says, leaning down so I can hear him over the music. I inhale to take in his scent. He smells delicious and fresh like the aroma of masculine body wash with a hint of spice. He has the natural scent that always makes a man smell completely irresistible.

  Continuing my gaze at him, I take a step back to get some space between us. He takes a step back as well, but it’s only to offer me the bar stool. “By all means.”

  With a sigh, I step past him to sit on the stool. I can still feel him hovering behind me, waiting to say his next pick-up line. His body is close. His breath is warm as it trickles against my bare shoulders and causes my skin to prickle and crawl. “You wouldn’t mind if I sat with you, would you?”

  I shake my head. “Free country.”

  He chuckles, stealing the seat on my right. Good thing my hair is covering my face, otherwise he would see how scarlet I am. It’s suddenly grown hot and I’m not sure if it’s because of the shots of alcohol or if it’s because he is that damn hot and can change the atmosphere from casual to steamy. What in the hell is going on with this guy? How can he affect a girl like this—a brokenhearted one at that? I shouldn’t care.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asks.

  “I’ll be fine getting my own.”

  I sneak a peek at him but he’s already looking at me, his eyes soft and not phased at all by my response. “That’s weird because most girls that come here beg to have their drinks bought for them. What makes you any different?”

  The anger tunnels its way out of me as I turn to look at him. “Don’t compare me to other women. I’m not them,” I hiss.

  “You’re not?”

  “No.” I scowl, turning away from him and his cocky demeanor. No wonder he’s making me feel this way about him. Perhaps he is cocky in his own way.

  “I must be making you mad. I’m sorry. I can just tell that you’re not from here.”

  “Oh yeah,” I sigh. “How?”

  “Well, for one, I saw your license plate.” He smiles heavily. “And two . . . well, look at you.” His eyes travel from mine to my lacey pink halter-top and black mini-skirt. My clothes are skin tight but nowhere near as tight as Harper’s are on her. “You’re dressed, stating that you only show a certain amount of skin and that if anyone wants to see the rest, they have to work for it. Most of the women from here, they’ll wear almost nothing. Your sense of style, on the other hand, amazes me.” I roll my eyes then lean forward to flag the bartender down. He’s trying to run his game on me. That’s most definitely not gonna work. He chuckles again, raking his fingers through his hair. “You’re tough,” he admits. Eyeing him briefly, I force myself to keep my mouth sealed. “I guess that’s what’s reeling me in.”

  His irises are still soft as he observes every inch of bare skin on my body. He stares at my legs the longest before returning his gaze on mine. “Has anyone ever told you how rude it is to stare?” I snap.

  “I didn’t think admiring was the same thing as staring.”

  Heat slides to my lower belly before sneaking its way between my legs. I flush and tear my gaze away again. I definitely need another drink. The bartender finally comes up to me and I show him the pass before ordering another round of shots. The sooner I’m away from this guy, the better. The bartender pours two shots quickly and I reach in my bra for a bill as a tip but the hot guy beside me places a ten dollar bill down on the counter before I can even get to it. “Consider that an apology.”

  Standing from his stool, he looks at me once more before turning and making his way through the crowded sea of people. I watch until he disappears within all of the bobbing heads and stretched arms before I turn to grab my shots quickly and chuck them both down, back-to-back. I slam the glasses down then rush for the dance floor to do something that I know I’ll probably regret tomorrow.

  But this is my new start and I might as well make the most of it. If I think about it too much, it won’t be fun. Another techno song plays loudly as I push through the crowd until I see him. I spin him around and he stares down at me, his eyes wide with a spark of confusion.

  “I’m Natalie,” I breathe. “Dance with me?”

  He tilts his head softly. “Nolan,” he murmurs as he leans in to place his lips against my ear. Unexpected heat drowns my entire body as he pulls back but grabs my hand to turn me around. The music seems to get louder, my mind is swimming, and here I am with a really sexy Nolan guy. I start to dance like I never have before. The drinks are really getting to me now. I’m not Sober Natalie that would usually tell this Nolan guy to fuck off or to leave me alone. Right now, my broken heart no longer matters. All that matters is if I’m having fun. And I am.

  Nolan leans his head down as I tilt mine back, still grinding and moving with the music. My hips are glued between his as his hardness presses into me, turning me on even more. At least I can still make someone want me.

  “What made you change your mind?” he asks, his voice buzzing against my ear again. He places his hands around my waist as I continue to move, twisting and dipping my hips with the bass of the music.

  “Life’s too short.”

  His chuckle rumbles from the heart of his chest. He then spins me around to face him. We both stop moving as we stare into one another’s eyes. “What do you say we go talk over some drinks?”

  I nod then turn and stand on my toes to look over the crowd for Harper. I see her, dancing with some guy that I’m sure she doesn’t know. Nolan grips my hand and leads the way through the crowd. I bite back on a smile as we reach the stairs and he begins to walk up, still holding my hand. Why is this so exhilarating? I can’t believe I’ve actually caught his attention. This guy wants to chat and drink with me. I have to do this. I’m having too much fun to tr
y and stop it and for once, I could give a shit less about Bryson. Bryson can kiss my ass.

  Nolan continues to lead the way through various leather couches. The lights are still dim and I have to admit that I’m feeling every shot that I’ve taken. I’m getting lightheaded, giggly. All I want to do is dance, move with the rhythm of the beats. I shut my eyes briefly, enjoying the bass and letting it drum through my blood as I bob my head. It isn’t until Nolan has squeezed my hand that I realize that we are sitting.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, chuckling.

  I giggle. “You want me to be honest?”

  “As honest as you want to be.”

  “I’m beyond okay. I feel great. I feel free.”

  “Am I making you feel that way already?” he teases. He leans in closer with his hand still glued to mine.

  “Maybe.”

  “A “maybe” is good enough with me when it’s coming from someone like you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to hold back on a few giggles.

  “It means that you have thick skin. For a second, I felt like giving up. That’s never happened to me with any woman before.”

  “So you’re saying that you pick up a lot of easy women from clubs?” I look him over this time, narrowing my eyes playfully.

  “Not as many as you’re thinking, I’m sure.” He gives a charming smile and my heart stumbles over the next beat as another hot wave of heat works its way between my legs again.

  “How do you do that?” I try to murmur to myself.

  “Do what?” he asks quickly. I blink repetitively as I pull my hand away. If there is one side of being drunk that I don’t like, it’s the fact that I don’t hold my tongue. I always say what’s on my mind and do what I feel is right. I’m careless when I’m drunk. Nolan looks at me, his clear grey eyes confused. “What am I doing?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. When you smile I feel all girly and weird . . .,” I pause as he flashes another smile and once again I liquefy. “See!” I shriek over the music. “That!” I point out.