Chapter 3: Gia

I blink before it occurs to me that this man-this incredibly gorgeous man, I might add-is attempting to save me from the idiot who won't take no for an answer.

It takes a second to slide into character. "Well, sweetie, I was just, ah, talking to this guy who rather thoughtfully asked if I was interested in having a threesome with him." I tilt my head to hold his gaze and bat my lashes.

The hottie next to me drops a quick kiss on my forehead before cocking his head to the side. He takes his time, looking the other guy up and down. A prickle of concern blooms in the pit of my belly. Maybe playing along with this wasn't such a good idea after all. The last thing I need is for a fight to break out.

"Sure, I'm down with that. Why don't the three of us head back to our place for a little bit of fun? We'll need to stop and pick up some extra lube. I'm fresh out." He gives the guy a wink along with a sexy smirk before adding, "I think we're going to need it."

My mouth tumbles open in surprise.

Did...did I hear him correctly?

By the sly expression on his chiseled features, I'm pretty sure that I did. A gurgle of unexpected laughter bubbles up in me like a geyser. My teeth sink into my lower lip to stifle the giggles that are desperately trying to escape. The jackass in front of me turns ashen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for its last dying breath.

It only gets worse when he stammers.

"I, um, I really wasn't, ah-"

The Adonis next to me eats up the distance between them before running one long finger down the other guy's chest. "I'm more of a top than a bottom, if you know what I mean. Does that work for you?"

Horror flashes across the other guy's face. His eyes bulge before shifting between the pair of us. He opens his mouth before slamming it shut again and shaking his head just once. Without a word, he spins around and darts into the thick crowd. We watch as he knocks into a few people in his haste to escape. My hand flies to my mouth as I die with laughter.

The handsome guy at my side looks disappointed that he's managed to scare off our potential partner, which only makes me laugh harder.

He shrugs his perfectly sculpted shoulders. "Guess I'm just too much man for him to handle."

I gasp for breath. "I can't believe you said that!"

The faux disappointment morphs into a roguish grin that releases a deep dimple in his left cheek. Jeez. This guy couldn't be any sexier if he tried.

"You looked like you could use a little help in fending off that dude's advances."

A few chuckles escape. Especially when I think about the look of horror on that guy's face. It was, in a word-priceless.

Now that it's the two of us, my gaze meanders down the length of him. Believe it or not, he's even better looking than I'd originally suspected. Thick mahogany-colored hair that is shaved close on the sides and spiked up into a fauxhawk. Deep gray eyes that seem to be a color somewhere between flint and silver. High cheekbones that are wasted on a male along with a strong, chiseled jaw. And that smile...no longer does it hold a devilish gleam to it.

It's morphed into something that looks predatory in nature.

I blink at the change in his demeanor. How he went from harmless to dangerous so quickly, I don't know.

His broad shoulders are encased in a dark T-shirt that hugs the bulging muscles of his biceps. Colorful ink peeks out from the top of his collar. My gaze dips to his arms, which are covered in tattoo sleeves before bouncing up to meet his eyes. What I find is a knowing smirk at my unabashed and thorough perusal of his person.

He floods my cheeks. Embarrassed to be caught ogling him so blatantly, I take a hasty step in retreat. The atmosphere changes and all of a sudden, it feels too intense. Intuition tells me that this guy is way more dangerous than the one he ran off. Even though we had been joking around a couple of minutes ago, the laughter has dried up in my throat.

"Well, thank you," I murmur, nodding toward Sophie, who is still sitting alone at our table. "I should probably get back to my friend."

He steps forward, swallowing up the distance between us. "Can I buy you a drink?"

We might be separated by at least a foot, but I still feel the heat of his body radiating off him in suffocating waves. Every female instinct inside me sits up and takes notice.

I shake my head. "That's probably not a good idea."

His gaze pins mine in place. It wouldn't take much to drown in those deep depths. They're completely mesmerizing. I have no idea how he's managed to make me feel like a skittish schoolgirl instead of a secure, twenty-nine-year-old woman. The masculinity he exudes leaves me feeling strangely rattled. Certainly more rattled than the jackass who propositioned me for a threesome.

Odder still is the attraction zipping its way through my frazzled body. That hasn't happened in I-don't-know-how-long. I hate to admit it, but it's definitely been way more than three years since I've felt this kind of instant, over-the-top desire ignite inside me.

In some distant part of my brain, I can only acknowledge that I did the right thing in breaking up with Tyler. We weren't right for each other. What I really want is someone who can turn my insides to mush.

Like this guy.

But older.

So...buying me that drink is definitely not a good idea.

"Oh, come on now," he says.

His silvery-gray gaze stays locked on mine. The sheer intensity swirling in his eyes makes it impossible to suck in a full breath of air. This guy, he may be young, but there's something overpowering about him. Completely male. It leaves everything in me quivering.

"It's not like we're strangers." He holds up his hand and leaves about an inch of space between his thumb and pointer finger. "We were this close to having a threesome. When you think about it, us grabbing a drink isn't really that big of a deal."

I have to smash my lips together so that I don't smile. The last thing I want to do is encourage him.

But he's funny.

Damnation. Why does this guy have to be in college?

He's just so perfect.

Maybe I'm jumping the gun and he's not in college. What if, like me, he's here to check out the music? I mean, anything is possible, right? My brother's band, The Renegades, have their fair share of groupies who follow them from one venue to another. Although, this guy doesn't strike me as a groupie.

I'd bet my salary for the year that he has groupies of his own.

"Are you a student at Barnett?" That's the only college around here, and he's definitely not younger than that.

God forbid.

He cocks his head and holds my gaze as if silently contemplating the question. My heart kicks up a notch. I can feel the beat of it against my rib cage.

"Why do I feel as if you having that drink is contingent upon me not being in college?"

He's intuitive. Yet another redeeming quality.

Can't he just be another jackass with an overinflated ego and horrible pick-up line? That would make it so much easier to walk away.

The breath becomes wedged in my throat as I shrug.

When I remain silent, he sighs, "Yup, I am."

His answer makes hot, tattoo guy with the very sexy hair completely off-limits.

He's too young. At the most, he's twenty-two. Considering that I'm coming up on thirty that makes him practically a baby. No matter how much my insides are clamoring for it, I can't go to bed with someone that young.

Holy hell...who said anything about sex?

We were talking drinks! Disappointment crashes over me like a tidal wave.

I give him a regretful smile. "That's too bad." I take another step in retreat, knowing that I need to get out of here and away from him. It's better to nip this in the bud then allow it to linger.

As I edge further away, he stalks closer. Which is exactly how it feels-like he's stalking me. His predatory prowl leaves me feeling jangled. My mouth turns cottony. My instincts prod me to turn tail and run. Even though we're about a foot apart, he doesn't crowd me. But that doesn't mean I'm not desperately aware of his masculine presence. I rack my brain but can't remember the last time I had such an intense physical reaction to a man.

"Does it really matter if I'm in college?"

Disappointment churns at the bottom of my belly. "I'm afraid it does."

"One drink," he cajoles, "that's all I'm asking for."

It's crazy just how tempted I am to sit down and have that drink with him. But I know better. There's too much attraction buzzing through my veins, prodding me to forget my qualms for just a few careless hours. How strange is it that I'm so attuned to him when we've only met? Even though I know it's wrong to get involved with someone his age, it doesn't necessarily feel as wrong as it should.

And that's dangerous.

That's when the lines begin to blur.

Maybe it's his height or the sheer breadth of his shoulders. The way he holds himself as if he has all the confidence in the world. And yet, it doesn't come across as cocky or arrogant because clearly, he can back it up. It could be the intelligence radiating from his gray depths. A knowingness. The direct way he has of holding my gaze. As if he knows exactly what he wants and is completely unapologetic about going after it.

There is nothing boyish or cute about him. This guy is completely masculine.

And I want him. More than I've wanted someone in a long time.

That being said, we both know his sweet-talking words are a lie. I can practically feel the combustible heat brewing between us. One drink and a little harmless conversation would never be enough for either of us.

"I think we both know it won't end with one drink, now will it?"