A/N 2020: I've been re-reading this and going through the comment section lately and I'd like to clarify that I wrote this when 8 years ago before publishing it the year after. At that time, I was completely naive and in a Wattpad universe where the "I'm not like other girls" and the "hot millionaire" tropes were literally the only stories getting written/read at the time. That being said, everything about this first chapter (and the first half of the book tbh) makes my entire being cringe LOL. My writing and perspective on real world experiences is completely different now. I would re-write it but I'll keep it this way for the haters 😘✌🏽
Chapter 1
I started to feel very warm.
In the pit of my chest, a burning sensation crept up and flooded my cheeks. The back of my dress stuck to my skin, restricting swift movements, and when I slowly lifted a free hand to my forehead, I was greeted with moist perspiration. As I lowered the shot glass back onto the bar counter, I began to breathe heavily.
God, after only three shots of tequila, really? I knew graduating college would mean entering the harsh reality of adulthood but I didn't realize it marked the end of my mediocre level of alcohol tolerance that had considerably gotten me through four years at Yale. Countless essays, research papers, and the fifty-three textbooks I had endured weren't celebrated with sleep, but with my best friends - Jameson and Captain Morgan. If I had built any strength while at college it was in my liver.
Tonight could have proven otherwise. Already, the shelves of bottles behind the bartender started to tilt sideways and my vision slightly blurred at the edges. A good explanation would be the nerves taking over, causing the alcohol to easily enter my blood stream. It was, after all, my first night alone in New York City. My parents had left a few of hours ago after helping move the truck load of cargo I had from our humble abode in San Francisco to the quaint studio apartment in downtown Manhattan. Growing up in a diversified city like San Francisco was hectic but the minute I stepped onto New York soil I knew it was a world apart. The streets were busier, the people had multiplied by thousands, and the air had grown thicker. It was intimidating - New York City was unlike any other.
I was happy to get away from home to start my own life. Mom and dad had become increasingly and irritatingly clingy for the months leading up to my departure and I was suffocating under their care. At first, moving back home after college seemed like a genius idea. Free housing, free food, free laundry. Everything I took for granted as a child I suddenly appreciated. But they couldn't let go of the messy breakup with my ex-boyfriend of two years, Matt (who they worshipped). Considering I was their only baby, they continued to treat me like one. It's been almost a year since we ended things and my parents still think they need to tip toe around my feelings. It seemed as if they were taking the break up harder than I had.
I was given a fresh start. I didn't have Matt in the back of my mind or my parents breathing down my neck. So, I was determined to make this first night memorable, which was tough since I didn't know a single soul. I had no family on the East Coast, most of my college friends were from other parts of the country. I had no connections to anyone in the state.
The only reason I was even at this dim-lighted, curtain covered, glowing floor club slash bar, was because my apartment complex is down the street. I literally walked here.
Considering how my night's already buzzing, I might have to find someone to walk me back, especially since tomorrow would be my first day as an intern for Forward magazine.
Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have gone out tonight. I mean, tomorrow is my first day. This was a huge opportunity, one that I may never have again. Forward magazine? Chester Publications? I had to make a good impression on all the other interns and the people that work at the magazine, yet I'm alone at a bar buzzed? What am I doing?
I started deeply regretting this obviously bad decision, contemplating on moving back to San Francisco. I turned to the left, hoping to find some guardian angel, when I caught the sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on, staring at me.
Whoa.
I blinked a few times, wondering if I should have glued a pair of false eyelashes on so I didn't seem so deer-in-the-headlights star struck. I suddenly felt conscious about every hair on my body. The tousled mess on his head fell just above a pair of thickened eyebrows and his high cheekbones played in tune with an outlined jaw. I tucked some hair behind my ear and looked back at the sweaty bartender, trying not to swoon from his glistening green eyes, but I felt them burning a hole through my side. My cheeks were on fire and I knew it wasn't from the alcohol.
Quickly, I analyzed his figure from the mental image I had taken in my head. He had lean arms that were practically bursting out of a crisp white long-sleeve collared shirt. It seemed like an expensive shirt too. I distinctly remember a watch on his right arm, silver with a black face. And was that a beauty mark above his upper lip? I could have died right then.
Everyone moved in hip and cool motions while in their tight dresses and button ups. There I sat in a blue and white striped boat-neck dress that had been on sale at J.Crew last year. My feet were straddled into the suede red Mary Jane heels that I've had since junior year of high school. They were my favorite and most cherished pair of heels in dire need of retirement, but it was the only appropriate footwear I could go out in public with. I had done nothing with my hair but let it air dry into tangled waves and the amount of makeup I had decided to put on consisted of two swipes of mascara, a hint of blush, and some lip gloss. I was a pathetic excuse for a woman.
The attractive man was probably looking at me, hoping I'd leave.
Just as I was about to hop off this awkwardly tall bar stool to end this embarrassing night, I felt a tap on my shoulder. When I whipped my head to the side, I began drowning in the same green eyes I had fallen for a few minutes before.
"Hey," His voice, smooth and deep, rumbled through my body. My eyes trailed down to lips, perfect and pink as he talked. "I haven't seen you at this club before, are you new to town?"
I stared at him as if he was a foreigner and I didn't speak a bit of his language. He smiled at my dead silence almost blinding me with his pearly white teeth. "Oh, uh, yes! I just moved here. Is it that obvious?" I cringed at the sound of my own voice. It was strained and high pitched, a result of three shots and a heart beating at the pace of a running puma. I hadn't been this nervous talking to a guy since I first met Matt.
Wait...Matt who?
"You could say that," He suggestively raised a brow, "You're the only girl wearing a dress long enough to cover her dignity and you brought a purse to the club."
I looked down at the cross body bag that held my phone, keys, wallet, and chapstick. When I turned to the rest of the dance floor, not one other person had anything in their hands that wasn't a drink. As if that weren't enough, I took this time to notice that a lot of people, girls in particular, were staring at our conversation at the bar. From the confused looks on their beautifully designed faces, I knew they were wondering why a handsome guy like him was talking to me.
"Ha," I pretended to giggle. "You caught me."
He stifled a laugh and I felt stupid. The hottest guy in the room came over to tell me that I'm a loser. "It's okay, I like that. It's a change of scenery. Most girls here try to hard, they do too much - the hair, the nails, the makeup."
Is he trying to call me ugly too? When I scanned around again, all I saw were flashy colored dresses and sky-high heels. Even though I knew he was probably attempting to compliment me, compared to them, I seemed as if I were dressed for a Taylor Swift concert rather than a club in Manhattan.
I swallowed the little-to-nothing ego I had left and said, "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm not too into all that."
He grinned wide, "You know what the best part is? You don't look like you even care at all."
"Or maybe," I said, silently motioning the bartender to hit us with two shots. "I'm just a very good actress."
He pursed his lips and leaned against the counter. I breathed in his spicy yet airy scent that made me a bit lightheaded. I'm a sucker for a guy that smelled delicious. It helped that he looked just as scrumptious. He was wearing slim fit dress pants and patent oxfords that couldn't have been less that $700. This guy was prettier than most of the girls in this club.
"If that's the case then I guess I should buy myself a quick acting class," He flashed a hand and asked the bartender for two shots, but he was already sliding two in front of us.
The bartender cocked his head at me.
"One step ahead of you," I laughed. He seemed taken aback, but quickly recovered by grabbing the shot glass and raised it to my face level. I noticed a number '4' tattooed on his right index finger that sat at the tip of the glass. When he followed my gaze, he raised the finger and touched my shot glass.
"Cheers," I looked back to his eyes, giving him what he wanted. We downed our shots. More flames burst in my chest but I brushed it off.
"Ah," He exhaled.
"That's a fancy suit you've got there," The alcohol said through my mouth.
He glanced down and turned his gaze back to me with a crooked smile. "I hate to sound cocky, but I recently just got promoted. This was a celebration gift to myself."
I nodded. So, he was loaded. "Well, you certainly wear it well."
Did I just say 'well' twice in the same sentence?
I mentally kicked myself in the face.
He cleared his throat before saying, "Now, what is a pretty lady doing alone at the hottest club in town?"
The mixture of his corny come on and the effect from the tequila had me bursting with loud laughter. From someone as slick as he looked, I wasn't expecting such a bad pick up line. "Is that the best you've got?"
He appeared shocked when I started slapping the bar counter, almost out of breath, but to my relief he began to laugh along. Though I couldn't stop the flames roaring in my chest, in my mind I was panicking hoping that he wasn't offended. I haven't dated in almost a year - I'm rusty. And truth be told, it was hard finding someone to help you get back into the swing of things. Most guys only wanted one thing.
Maybe tonight, I did too. I hadn't touched a guy, flirted with a guy, or even thought of looking at another man that wasn't Matt in a long time. But now, I'm in New York City and anything was possible - including a hot guy throwing me a crappy pick up line. I had to bite whatever bone I was thrown.
I crossed my legs, hoping he'd see how they shined against the light, as a result of smartly choosing to shave them. Maybe even be tempted to brush a hand on it.
"You're right, that was a bit too corny," He finished laughing. He ran a hand through his hair and I wanted to crawl into a cave. God, he was beautiful. "How about we start that again? I'm Nate."
I abruptly stopped through a fit of giggles and nervously held out my hand, focusing on not letting is shake. "I'm-"
Then I stopped. Do I give him my real name? What if this guy turns out to be a serial killer? What if he drops a ruffie into my drink?
Seriously, I needed to be smart about the people I was going to meet here. It's been awhile since I've introduced myself to someone so relaxed. I forgot that this could potentially be dangerous.
Fake name, it's decided.
"-Andrea," I finished. He narrowed his eyes at me but then smiled.
"Andrea, nice to meet you. I'm sorry if I came off a bit predictable. I'm not usually like that." He grabbed the stool behind him and settled besides mine, daring me to pounce on him. Even the way he sat, one shoe on the footrest of the stool, the other casually tapping to the rhythm of the music, was full of suave.
My first encounter with the opposite sex in New York City and I have to say, if this is the standard, I'm going to enjoy myself here.
"It's nice to meet you too. But I can't blame you, most men are pretty predictable these days," I said non-chalantly, resting an arm on the counter. The glass was cold beneath my skin but it felt soothing.
He scoffed. "Only because we know what you women want to hear. We're predictable because you're predictable."
My jaw dropped. That reaction was unexpected. "No we're not."
He rolled his eyes at me. "You want me to tell you how sexy you are and how crazy it is to find a nice girl at a club for once?"
I winced because it was slightly the truth. Slightly. "No," I even heard my own voice quiver. He smiled at this, knowing he was right. He was turning into a smart ass.
"Gotcha!"
I rolled my eyes at him. "Whatever. We just met! You still don't know much about me."
He tapped his index finger on his perfectly curved chin and said, "I'm guessing you've just moved to town from, mmm, out of state? Straight out of college? And I'm assuming you live alone considering you're here by yourself."
My jaw almost unhinged at this point. I was shocked - partially from how accurate he guessed the truth, partially from how basic his answer made me sound. I had to take the conversation back to my side. "Wow, you know for such a pretty face, you act like-"
He held up both hands in defense. "Whoa, okay, no need to get defensive. I was simply stating the things I noticed about you. Observed, if you will."
"Observed?" I squinted my eyes. Either I was really drunk or really confused. Or both.
He smiled again. "I only say those things because...I was you a year ago."
Yup, I was definitely confused. "What do you mean?"
He looked up as if he was reminiscing on his life. "I was here, alone, dressed in jeans and a white polo t-shirt, wearing sneakers and a baseball cap. I had just graduated, moved into the smallest apartment I could afford in Manhattan, and walked into a bar on my first night, like a rookie. Practically where you sit. Though I grew up in New York, it took a lot for me to actually grow up."
My cheeks flushed. I didn't expect that answer from him. I also didn't expect to feel so embarrassed at my situation because hearing his story makes it seem as if he was a lost case. And if I was him a year ago...
"Don't be embarrassed," He noted the quick terror in my eyes, "Everyone suffers through the first few stages of moving to the Big Apple. They're rough, but we've all been there. Every single person in this room was you at one time or another," He puts a hand over the arm I had resting on the counter. I flinched at first, but feeling the warm smoothness of his skin made me relax for the first time all night.
I wanted him.
He leaned forward so close to my face, I could smell the tequila in his breath. He stared at me and I felt every nerve shaking in me. His face so clear and smooth that I was tempted to touch it, but his hand still lay on my arm.
"Want to know how I got over my first day jitters?" He whispered into my ear sending me into ecstasy. I felt a wave of goose bumps wash over me. I couldn't breathe.
"How?"
"DANCE!" He yelled and grinned at me. He stared at me with devilish eyes and suddenly, I was being dragged from my comfortable spot at the bar to the middle of the dance floor. After shoving a crowd of people out of the way, I found myself surrounded by hot sweaty bodies that were moving to the bass.
"Oh my God!" I squealed as Nate swung me backwards, arching my back and supporting me with a muscular arm. When he brought me back up, I felt the room spin for a bit before I could stand still.
"Whoa," He helped me stand straight. "You alright?"
"Yea," I blinked a few times before my vision finally became clear. "You're right, you are unpredictable."
He smiled, satisfied, and grabbed my hips.
At this point, I'm terrified. I haven't danced in awhile. I think my body may have even forgotten how to move to a beat. But when he slipped his arms around my waist and started swaying back and forth, never keeping his eyes off me, I felt myself naturally sway along with him. An upbeat hip-hop song played and we began bumping to the bass.
Sweat started to drip down my back but I didn't care. I closed my eyes and shivered as one of his hands traced down my spine while the other whisked the hair that was sticking to my sticky forehead. I forgot what it felt like to truly be caught in the moment with someone.
In this instance, I felt free. I didn't know who Nate was - he could be a serial killer, a flight attendant, or maybe even a father. But I didn't care to even wonder the possibilities. All I knew was that I was actually having a good time. For my first time in New York, I was doing pretty well.
Nate pulled my head closer towards him and I could feel his breath down my neck. He whispered in my ear, "Not to sound so cliché, but you are really beautiful."
And though I grinned from ear to ear, when I looked back at him I said, "How predictable."
He smiled and sent me into a daze. I couldn't take it. I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned forward, kissing him gently. His lips were just as soft as they looked. It wasn't long before he was kissing me back, harder. While running his hands through my hair, he pushes me closer towards him. Fire burned as his tongue found it's way into my mouth. I could taste him so sweetly.
He broke us apart, both of us breathing heavily, while the rest of the club still danced around us.
"Come with me," He playfully smiled and caressed my cheek.
Without hesitation, I said, "Anywhere."
________________________________
I didn't know 'anywhere' meant his apartment. And I didn't know his 'small' apartment was actually a penthouse suite on the top floor of Manhattan's premiere apartment complex.
"Wow," I breathed glancing outside his ceiling-to-floor living room windows. There was a spectacular view of downtown and the city lights twinkled before us.
"You should see it at sunrise," Nate then growled at me suggestively and I remembered what we were doing - making out fiercely on the way to the bedroom. I jumped on him, wrapping my legs around his waist and we both hit the wall as he began kissing my neck. It was dark, but I could feel him carrying me down a long hallway before he fumbled with a doorknob and eventually kicked a door open.
I opened my eyes, catching the silhouette's of a dresser and a window seat. Next thing I knew, he was throwing me down onto a king sized bed that felt like falling into a pit of a thousand feathers. My arms spread out and the white comforter cooled my hot skin. Nate jumped on top of me and kissed me hungrily, tension blocked by our clothing.
He began lifting my dress sending tingles down stomach, like I could explode inside. My breathing came in short intervals. I let my hands run down his back and feel the outline of his muscles. He stopped kissing me to stare into my eyes and I choked.
"Are you okay?" He asked softly, one hand caressing my cheek. I melted under his touch.
I nodded my head, leaning forward for a kiss. He pulled the dress over my head and I was bare in my lace thong (thank God) and matching bra. He stared at my body for a moment, before grinning.
"Damn."
I blushed and quickly helped him get out of his shirt to get the attention off me. After throwing the piece of cloth to the ground, my body shivered with excitement. He had defined abs and the rigid arms I'd felt above his shirt looked even better bare. I reached out to touch his skin and ran my fingers down his torso. His eyes rolled back as my hand reached out to unbuckle his belt.
But he hurriedly beat me to it and quickly undid his pants, pulling them to reveal tight boxer briefs.
Then he slid them to the ground.
I gulped.
This was really happening. All of a sudden the walls started closing in, my tunnel vision zooming onto his body. When he climbed on top of me again to smother me in kisses, my eyes remained wide open while thoughts flooded my mind.
What the hell am I doing? I don't have sex with random strangers...it took Matt a year before I lost it to him. Here I am about to give it to some random (hot) man I met at a bar?
This wasn't me. As much as I wanted to have a fun and memorable night, I didn't want to give myself up so easy. The tequila really messed with my mind.
"No," I whispered in anxiety. "I can't."
Nate quickly stopped and jerked his head up from kissing the top of my chest, panting. "What? What's wrong?"
"I'm s-sorry, I can't do this."
I pushed him off me, and sat up, my legs dangling off the edge of the bed. Tears were forming at the corners of my eyes and I blinked rapidly to stop them from falling. This was utterly embarrassing. Nate probably had girls kissing the ground he walked on and here I was, ready to curl up into the fetal position and cry myself to sleep. I wanted to grab my dress but I didn't dare turn around and let him see me as a drunken mess.
He laid a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay, Andrea? I'm sorry if I moved too fast."
I sniffed and wiped the tears away. I had forgotten I had even told him my name was Andrea. That worsened the humility. "No, it's not you. I'm sorry...this isn't me. I'm not ready to do this. I don't usually hook up with anyone."
When I turned around, he was sitting behind me on his knees with the same look my mom had whenever she'd ask about Matt. Pity. He saw the tears in my eyes and quickly brought his hands to my face to wipe away with his thumbs.
"I'm sorry, this isn't me either," He confessed (or lied). "I don't normally go home with the girls I meet at clubs...I guess you were just to gorgeous to resist."
A laugh came out of me and I hoped that a snot bubble didn't follow. This guy was a walking dictionary of cheesy lines. "Thanks. I'm really sorry to do this to you. You're sexy and nice and I'm an idiot for doing this. I don't even know you but for some reason I got carried away and-"
"Hey," he laughed, stopping my rambling. "Andrea, it's fine. I just want to make sure that you're okay. Are you?"
I sighed in relief. "Yes. Thank you. But I think I should go now."
He nodded and handed me back my dress. With shame, I put it back on and found my heels that I had somehow managed to kick off on our journey from the door to the bed. Before I could walk out, I turned to Nate (still completely naked), hoping he couldn't see my darkened cheeks in the dark.
"Thanks for tonight?" I raised an eyebrow at him. I didn't know how to end and almost one night stand. Do we shake hands?
To my surprise, he pulled me in for a one-armed hug. "I hope this isn't the last time I see you."
I smiled. "I hope it isn't either."
But it probably would be.