Crazy Read online

  Rock Me

  Crazy

  Arabella Quinn

  Chapter 1

  I sat at the bar fuming. It wasn't the first time my friend, Cora, had ditched me for a man. But it was the first time it had happened less than an hour into the evening, before either of us was even tipsy. She had dragged me out, forcing me to dress up to go to the trendy downtown club, which was over an hour away from where we lived. And she had driven, leaving me entirely at her mercy.

  I quickly downed my drink and caught the bartender's eye for another. The club, all four floors of it, was completely packed. Despite my tight skirt, overly revealing neckline and painfully high heels, I could easily be the dowdiest girl present, and they all looked younger than the required 21 years of age.

  After waiting on line to enter the club for over an hour, shivering in the crisp evening air and skimpy attire, Cora and I had made a beeline for the bar. As soon as we got drinks, we headed up to the second level, the Ice level, because it played Cora's favorite music. There she managed to chat up some incredibly hot guy who was surrounded by salivating girls. I certainly wasn't about to stroke the guy's over-inflated ego, so I mostly ignored them.

  The next thing I knew, the guy was leading a party of girls one floor up to the Fire level. I regretted it big time now, but I didn't immediately follow them. When it became clear that Cora was too preoccupied to remember me, I decided it was time to go find her. After all, I didn't want to hang out at the club all night long by myself. It was getting a bit awkward lurking in the shadows, nursing a drink.

  I headed up to the Fire level and to my dismay; it was closed - VIP guests only. And no matter what I told the bouncer, he would not let me in. Of course, Cora was ignoring her phone and all my texts. Bitch. So here I was, hanging on the least crowded lower level, nicknamed The Basement by the patrons. It was still loud and crowded, but at least I wasn't getting groped every five minutes while I sat out of the way on the barstool, crowds of people pressing close behind me.

  What a disaster of a night. If I ended up spending the entire night by myself, I would kill Cora. I would never go out with her again. It was so incredibly selfish of her to ditch me five minutes into the night for some asshole guy. I let my mood darken as it fed off my angry thoughts, while I downed my new drink.

  I felt the warmth of the alcohol spreading through my limbs. I signaled for another drink and noticed the bartender's slight hesitation before he started making it. Yeah, I was pounding them hard. I needed to slow down, otherwise, I would be completely out of cash and unable to walk before the night was over.

  This time I sipped daintily at my drink before setting it down on the bar. I checked my cell phone again to see if there were any messages from Cora. If she would just answer, then maybe I could get onto the Fire level. Of course, there were no texts. Damn, I felt like the unpopular kid that was left out of the cool club. I put my phone up on the bar so that I could see if any texts came in; it was way too loud to hear the new message tone. What if I was stuck in this shitty club for the next four hours alone? Heads would roll. Starting with a bottled blonde head.

  I barely registered the muscled and tattooed arm as it slipped by me. However, I did fully notice it bumping into my drink and spilling it all over my cell phone.

  "Shit!" I grabbed for my phone, lifting it out of the puddle of alcohol.

  The clumsy asshole with the tattooed arm squeezed in next to my barstool.

  "Oh shit. Sorry about that."

  I turned toward him, daggers shooting from my eyes, ready to unleash an angry tirade on his sorry ass. "That's just great…"

  My eyes focused on his broad chest as he snatched the dripping phone from my hand and began wiping it on his t-shirt. "Here, good as new. Alcohol will probably kill all the gross germs on it too."

  My mouth snapped shut. Was he making fun of me or was he just one of those good-natured types? The type I couldn't stand.

  I watched him rub my phone against his well-worn shirt and I noticed that he was wearing shorts. Shorts? Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Wow, they let you in here? Dressed like that?"

  Despite the fact that I had just blurted out the most bitchy, judgmental thing possible, I heard him laugh. I immediately felt bad. Normally, I wasn't such a snobbish girl. In fact, I was pretty down to earth and unassuming. If I had gone with my preference, I would have been wearing shorts and a t-shirt too instead of the uncomfortable yet sexy outfit with the toe-crushing heels. But I didn't tend to go against the grain ever. I always played the game.

  I kept my eyes focused on the phone to avoid revealing my embarrassed blush. He handed the phone back and I could see liquid seeping out of the cracks of the protective case and onto my hand.

  "I'll get you a new drink. And I'll pick up your bar tab for the night - just to show you how sorry I really am."

  My eyes flew to his face. His tone was odd. Was he being a jackass or sincere? When I saw the overly innocent grin on his face, I automatically smiled in response. He was definitely messing with me. And I liked it.

  He was blond. But, I preferred men with dark hair. He was laughing at me, or himself, or both of us - I didn't know. I preferred more serious men. He looked like he just walked into the club straight off the beach. I preferred sophisticated men with more fashion sense. He was the 'cup is half-full' type even when he had just spilled the contents of the cup all over the place. I hated perpetually happy people. Ordinarily, I would not even look twice at a man like this.

  So why was my heart pounding faster as I returned his gaze? Why was I staring at his lips and wondering how they would feel against my own? Why did I feel the slight flutter in my stomach, the almost sexual tension coiled inside?

  He was handsome; there was no doubt. His messy hair, his casual clothes and demeanor didn't detract from his stunning good looks. And since he was standing mere inches from my barstool, I couldn't help but notice that he had one smoking hot body.

  I relaxed against the back of the barstool. "Well if you're buying, I'm drinking. I hope you don't mind a large bar tab."

  The bartender appeared with a rag and wiped up the spilled drink. The handsome man looked me over. "I'm sure I could handle it. Unless you're buying for someone else too?"

  I had momentarily forgotten the anger I had been stewing in, but it returned with a vengeance as I was reminded about being deserted by Cora. I muttered with clenched teeth, "No, it's just me."

  The bartender appeared with a new drink for me. At first, I thought he was just replacing my spilled drink, but he plopped down a beer next to it. The handsome stranger picked up his beer and drank. I guess during the aftermath of the spill, I hadn't even noticed his exchange with the bartender. Interesting that a guy dressed like he was had any sway at a club like this. It should have taken him a lot more effort to get drinks in this packed madhouse. Maybe he was a friend of the owner or something?

  I had expected him to take off after our drinks arrived, but he didn't move. I turned in my barstool, so that I could check him out better, but instead I saw his eyes zero in on my cleavage. Normally, I would have been annoyed. But, my shirt was fairly provocative and his perusal set off a flutter of butterflies in my stomach. When he didn't look up right away, I felt my face growing heated. He was bold, but didn't seem like the typical club players who dry humped anyone who was unfortunate enough to be within striking distance. Unlike those jerks, this man exuded a confidence that only enhanced his sexy masculinity.

  "So you're here alone?" He raised his eyebrows in question, as if he didn't believe it.

  I took a sip of my new drink and sighed. "No, I'm actually here with a girlfriend. But she ditched me already. She's with some pretentious asshole in the VIP section. What kind of loser wears sunglasses inside a nightclub, anyway?"<
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  His laugh was genuine. "Probably a complete douche bag. Why aren't you up there with her?"

  I gave him a withering look. "They wouldn't let me in."

  He tried to hold back his amusement, but a quick burst of laughter sprang from his lips. "I can't believe they wouldn't let you in. They must be blind."

  He was still teasing me, but it wasn't mean-spirited. I shrugged my shoulders as if I didn't care. "I'd rather be hanging out down here anyway. I just wish Cora would answer her damn cell. She's my ride home and I'm pissed that she's ignoring me for that loser with the sunglasses."

  "Yeah, I heard that it's a rock band hanging out up there. Cold Fusion. Ever hear of them?" He took a sip of his beer as he waited for my answer.

  Jesus. Cora was hanging out with a rock band. I was so screwed. "Damn. Yeah, I've heard of them. They're from around here, aren't they? Cora will never tear herself away if she's hanging out with a rock band. I'm really gonna kill her."

  He looked sympathetic. "Do you want to try to get into the VIP section again? I can try to help you out. I'm a real smooth talker."

  I didn't want to insult him but the bouncers had made it completely clear to me that the party was closed and they were pretty much assholes about it. They weren't going to be impressed by a guy who looked like a beach bum, no matter how damn sexy he was. "No thanks. I guess I'll try again later if Cora keeps ignoring me. For now, I'll just hang out here wallowing in misery and running up your bar tab."

  "If I'm going to finance your wallowing, at least you can tell me your name?" He placed his hand casually on the back of my barstool.

  I smiled at him. "It's Olivia. But you don't really have to buy me drinks. I was just kidding…"

  "Don't worry about it. It's the least I can do for drenching your phone. I'm Tommy, by the way."

  His name perfectly fit with his appearance, casual and unassuming. I swallowed a healthy sip of my drink, feeling it warm my insides. I was really having fun talking with this gorgeous man who was so not my type.

  "Well, Tommy. I appreciate it." I raised my glass and clinked it to his beer. "Cheers."

  He finished his beer and placed it on the bar. "So, Livvy, are you from around here? Do you live in Dallas?"

  It was extremely presumptuous of him to call me Livvy. But all my friends called me that anyway, so I would look pretty lame if I challenged him on it. This man just did what he wanted to do.

  "I actually live about an hour from here. Outside of Fort Worth - near Weatherford. So it would be a real problem if my friend ditched me." I voiced my aggravation trying hard to keep the whine out of my voice.

  "Hey, I'm not too far from there myself. Probably 20 minutes away. If you get in a jam, I can give you a ride home."

  The bartender placed a new beer on the bar for Tommy as I contemplated his offer. It went against every sensible and sane fiber of my being to accept a ride from a stranger, but what the hell would I do if Cora took off to fuck some rock band?

  I eyed his strong and muscular arms. "That wouldn't be so smart of me, would it? What if you're like a creepy Ted Bundy trolling your next victim?"

  Tommy looked genuinely amused when he laughed. "True. But a lot of people here know me; they could vouch for my good character. Well, at least that I'm not a serial killer. Here, give me your phone and I'll put in my number. If you get stuck later on tonight, text me. I'll be at your service."

  I handed over my very sticky phone. "Assuming my phone still functions… Hey, aren't you supposed to be trying to get my phone number? Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

  Tommy was busy punching digits into my phone. "You should never give out your number to strange men, Livvy."

  He glanced up from my phone; his teasing smile slipping from his face when his eyes met mine. A current of pure awareness passed between us. Damn, as if I wasn't already feeling aroused by this guy, that searing look melted the panties right off me. I glanced away hastily, not wanting to give away my overheated response to him. When I finally looked back, as he handed my phone to me, his carefree smile was once more in place.

  I took a deep breath. Get it together, Olivia. Flirting with a guy was one thing. Drooling all over him was another. I had long grown out of the stage where one-night stands, no matter how hot the guy, interested me. And watching Cora play the slut all too often, made me guard my self-respect with renewed determination.

  Tommy leaned in close, his arm brushing softly against my straining nipple. I gasped as the contact sent a jolt of arousal straight to my pussy. Then, I was blushing profusely. Oh God! I had thought he was making a move, but he was just reaching in for his beer off the bar. Disappointment and embarrassment warred within me.

  I had reacted like a sex-starved nun at the slightest contact, only seconds after telling myself to keep it cool. My only hope was that Tommy hadn't noticed. I peeked under my lashes up at his handsome face. His eyes were fixed, pin-pointed on my panting chest. For God's sake, Livvy, quit panting like a love-struck virgin!

  I hastily grabbed at my drink and gulped a sip. Placing my drink back on the bar, I took a few seconds to compose myself before turning back to Tommy. His eyebrow was slightly raised and a devilish grin crossed his lips. I couldn't tell if it was an expression of amusement at my expense or his natural expression by default. I hated perpetually happy people. This laid-back, reckless guy could never live up to my expectations. It was better to cut off any flirtation now.

  Tommy turned his head as someone called out to him. "Hey, Tommy. C'mere. You gotta check this out, bro."

  He turned back to me and smiled a goofy grin. "I'll be right back, Livvy. Don't go anywhere."

  I watched him weave his body through the tight crowd and away from me. He turned back once and smiled. My returning smile faded as I watched a woman's hand, complete with bright red fingernails, grab Tommy's tight ass as he slipped out of the crowd that mobbed the bar. He kept walking while the woman laughed with her friends.

  I didn't have much time to be jealous of the woman's hand, because I noticed my cell phone screen light up. Grabbing it off the bar, I swiped the home screen and read the message from Cora: I'm in the second floor restroom. Come find me now! please

  My first instinct was, of course, to ignore her. She ditches me and then expects me to jump to her every command? My hackles went up. Hell no. But it was my fierce pride that was somewhat responsible for my predicament in the first place. I was jealous at how she dropped me in a split second for that gorgeous guy. And Mr. Rock Star rubbed me the wrong way. Tons of bimbos falling all over his arrogant egotistical ass. No thanks.

  So, I had stayed in the background. Pouting. And, ended up getting separated from them. And then pissed when they wouldn't let me into their exclusive party. Man, I was getting worked up about it all over again just thinking about it. If I kept this up, I'd lose my chance to catch up with Cora and possibly my ride home.

  I took one last gulp of my drink and hopped off the barstool. Pushing through the crowd, I felt someone grope my ass and experienced some satisfaction. See, you're not the only hot one here, Tommy.

  Making my way towards the wide staircase, I kept my eyes peeled for Tommy. I was disappointed that I didn't see him. I hurried upstairs and made a beeline to the restrooms. I bypassed the line of ladies waiting and headed inside. Cora was huddled by the hands dryer in the corner. Uh-oh. She looked like shit. Smeared mascara, puffy eyes, frowning pouty lips.

  Cora spotted me and practically threw herself into my arms. "Oh, Liv. It was horrible! Please get me out of here. I don't want anyone to see me. I just wanna go home."

  Several heads turned in our direction at her plaintive wail, but no one seemed overly concerned.

  I slowly peeled her out of my arms. "What happened?"

  Cora started off quietly, but her voice grew more hysterical as she went on. "That fucker, Tyler Matthews, is what happened. He's the lead fucking singer for Cold Fusion. I thought he was interested in me. That he'd at least bring me home wi
th him or something. Instead, I gave him a blow-job in front of a whole fucking crowd of people. And-"

  "Shhh." I squeezed her arm as her voice grew louder. "Keep it down, Cora. People are looking."

  Cora glanced around. "I don't care if anyone knows what a prick he is." Luckily, she lowered her voice before continuing. "Anyway, after about five fucking minutes of giving him head, he pulled me off so some blonde chick with enormous tits could finish him up. Everyone fucking laughed. Then, he wouldn't even give me the time of day afterwards."

  Humiliation for my friend started seeping into me. And anger at her stupidity. "Jesus Christ, Cora. Why were you giving him a blowjob anyway? He's never going to respect you-"

  Cora's head snapped up. "I don't want his respect. Just a good night of fucking a rock star."

  I groaned. She was never going to get it. Lord knows, I had tried in the past. "Shit. Let's go get you a drink and we'll stay away from the Fire level."

  Cora shook me adamantly. "I gotta get out of here. I don't want to see any of those people. Please, Liv."

  Another night ruined by Cora. When was I ever going to learn? We snuck through the crowds and made it outside and then to the massive parking deck a block away without incident. It turned out Cora was almost completely sober and I was beyond tipsy, so she didn't even ask me to drive home as I had done so many times before.

  We were hurtling down the highway on the way home when I remembered Tommy. I had bolted from the club without even saying goodbye. He probably thought I had ditched him on purpose, which was probably a good thing. What was I going to do? Give him a blowjob at the club? Hell, no!

  He was not relationship material. He was not even short-term boyfriend material. So why did I feel miserable at the prospect of never seeing him again? There was something about him that set off a spark in me. That warmed my veins and made me squirm with naughty thoughts.

  Before I could stop myself, I opened my phone. There was his number, listed under T for Tommy. I texted a quick message to him: I found my friend. Had to leave. Thanks for being my backup. Livvy