A Perfect Ten Read online

The sleaze ball.

  I rolled my eyes and tore my attention away before I puked. Oren Tenning was the epitome of the male chauvinist pig. Every word to spew from his mouth was laced with all his crude, promiscuous thoughts. I wanted to hate everything about him with every fiber of my being, except he stirred each molecule in me into wanting to pounce and take him instead.

  Humiliated that I’d actually tried to kiss him a few months ago, and even more humiliated that he’d stopped me—twice—I clenched my teeth. He and his harem were the very reason I was so pissy this evening.

  But seriously, four women? Was that not a bit excessive?

  I would almost swear he went out of his way to make himself look like the biggest man-whore asshole on the planet whenever I was around just to keep me away from him. But then, that was probably wishful, presumptuous thinking on my part. I’d worked out some big romantic plot in my head where he was desperately in love with me but he had to stay away because his best friend—my overprotective big brother—would kill him for even looking at me wrong, thus he went to ridiculous lengths to make me disapprove of him. If I hated him and stayed away, he wouldn’t feel so tempted into falling for my wonderful self.

  Yeah, I only wished that were the case. In reality, he probably didn’t even know I was in the building and his only passing thought of me was that he had to be nice to me or my brother would lob off his dick with a butter knife.

  My shoulders slumped. God, my life sucked. Maybe Blaze had been onto something when she said I needed to live a little. Because really, it had almost been a year since I’d stepped out of my comfort zone. I didn’t agree that I needed a man to make myself something, but Zoey seemed more fulfilled to have a special someone to share everything with her. And since Noel had met Aspen, there was something different about him, as if her presence settled a restless part of him. Having one certain someone around to talk to might not be so bad, someone to hang out with, to tell secrets to and lean on when I needed support, someone to support when he needed a boost. That didn’t sound bad at all.

  So why wasn’t I getting back on that horse and trying out the dating scene to find that kind of companionship? Maybe because the last time I’d searched for that in a guy, it ruined me. Maybe I was letting myself obsess over Oren because unconsciously I knew I could never have him. I could safely pine for him without putting my heart at risk...again.

  I did miss kissing, though. And certain parts of touching. Being physically close to someone and drowning myself in a little bit of pleasure.

  “Maybe I should have a one-night stand,” I said aloud.

  Zoey swerved around in her seat to blink at me from large, startled green eyes. “Say what?”

  “It’s been almost a year since Sander,” I told her, feeling funny just saying his name.

  Sander Scotini had broken me so badly I hadn’t been able to speak his name aloud but a handful of times in the past twelve months. I hated how much power I’d given him just by my inability to vocalize his existence...and by how wary of the opposite sex in general I’d been since him, or how overprotective of me my scandal had made Noel. I wanted my freaking power back. I wanted to be able to live again.

  “And I don’t want a dried-out, wrinkled-up old vagina,” I said with maybe a bit too much vehemence.

  Zoey sniffed and waved her hand. “That’s just absurd. Mine wasn’t used for eighteen years, and Quinn has no complaints about it now.”

  I snorted out a laugh, loving it whenever my quiet, reserved best friend said something shocking.

  “What’s so funny?” Quinn asked, popping up behind Zoey and slipping his arms around her waist from behind.

  As he kissed the side of her neck and nuzzled his nose into her ponytail, I couldn’t help but gag a little, in a very jealous, I-hate-you-for-being-so-disgustingly-content-while-I’m-miserable way. A part of me still adored watching them together, though, because I did love a good happily ever after.

  Separated, Quinn and Zoey were usually too shy to do much but bleed back into the sidelines. Together, however, they lit up like Christmas tree lights, and I loved Christmas tree lights. Best lights in the world.

  Watching Zoey’s face brighten with pleasure as she ran her hand up his arm and pulled him in tighter behind her, I shook my head. “I totally love your girlfriend, that’s what.”

  Quinn cuddled his cheek against Zoey’s. “Sorry, but she’s already taken.”

  I sniffed. “Hey, don’t be so selfish, Hamilton. Can’t you share her at least every other weekend? I bet she’s a hot piece of ass.”

  “Oh, she is.” He grinned, looking proud of himself. “So I’m definitely not sharing.”

  While we all laughed, I slid my attention past them to the stage where Blaze had approached him. I was a little disappointed I’d missed the big rejection he’d given her; I’d been too concerned about glaring at the man-whore with his four skanks.

  Damn, I was pathetic.

  Spotting Blaze coming on to Asher now, I shook my head, disgusted. When Asher caught me watching him, I rolled my eyes and gave him a thumbs down, letting him know the woman talking to him wasn’t worth his time. He sent me a wink, telling me in return that he got it and would be keeping his hands off my ex-acquaintance. I could even hear his voice in my head saying, “You got it, babe,” like he usually did.

  I preened rather smugly. I’d just showed that bitch.

  It was nice to know I had some kind of influence, which made me adore Asher for giving in to me. If only he could’ve been the guy I wanted more than anything. He might’ve actually risked the wrath of my brother to be with me. Or maybe not. I wasn’t exactly sure about him, because neither of us had attempted anything with each other. I think he suspected where my heart already lay. My stupid, idiotic heart that had no sense of decency or self-preservation whatsoever. Seriously, what kind of heart fell for an annoying, obnoxious, loud-mouthed male slut?

  Probably a weak, too-forgiving, clueless heart, because no matter how much it hurt to watch him drool over four other women, I always came up with a reason to fall for Oren Tenning again and again. Every freaking day. Just when I decided I hated him, and meant it this time, he’d come up with one huge redeeming quality that made me look past all the bad and just see...him.

  Like now. He caught sight of Quinn and Zoey and let go of one of his whores to point to them. “Blondie!” he called with a big, happy grin.

  Zoey and I were both blonde, but I knew he was greeting her. For some reason unknown to me, he refused to call her by her first name. He’d even go as far as to describe her in terms of “that girl” or “the one Hamilton’s dating” to keep from saying Zoey. But mostly, she was Blondie to him.

  The boy had issues if you asked me.

  But then, I had even more for wanting him as badly as I did.

  Once again unwillingly warmed to him because he was so nice and accepting of my shy best friend, I sighed. He and Zoey had a close friendship. He’d never once made her feel freakish for how introverted she was, and I couldn’t outright hate him because of it.

  I could hate him for making me jealous of a bunch of nasty sluts who absolutely wouldn’t stop pawing at him, though. I wanted to slap the smirk right off the little witch who was leaning in to nuzzle her nose against his neck. I itched to stalk over there, yank her away by the hair and nuzzle her nose against the first wall I found...as hard as I could.

  Okay, fine. I had a whole boatload of issues instead of just a couple. Sue me.

  But, ooh, was that bastard sliding his hand over the other one’s ass while the first one sucked on his neck? He was! Grr. I hated him so much.

  Wishing Oren Tenning a long, slow, painful venereal disease-ridden death, I glanced away. “He is such a freaking man-whore.”

  Both Quinn and Zoey glanced at me, their gazes full of sympathy, which made me want to pull my hair and scream, because I also hated how so many people knew how much of a crush I had on Oren. It wasn’t fair.

  “That’s it,�
� I announced. “I’m doing it.”

  Zoey and Quinn looked at each other, frowning in confusion, before turning back to me. “Doing what?” they asked together.

  I blew out a breath. “I’m living again. I... I...” Glancing frantically around the place, I paused on the first guy I spotted. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

  Zoey glanced over and winced. “Him? Are you sure...?”

  I gave a very decisive nod. “I’m positive.”

  “Who is he?” Quinn wondered, eyeing the guy censoriously. He was another friend of my brother’s and was probably guessing how many times Noel would kill the guy for even talking to me.

  I was thinking Noel had way too many freaking friends.

  “No clue,” I said, not caring who he was at all. “How about I go ask him.”

  To be on the safe side, I snatched up the piña colada Blaze had abandoned at our table for a little liquid courage and gulped it.

  Slamming the empty glass down, I let out a refreshed breath. “Please excuse me while I get my groove on.” Standing up, I threw a flirty little wave at Zoey and Quinn—or Zwinn, as I was going to call them henceforth—and I turned to make my way toward Mr. Lucky, whoever he was.

  Except I couldn’t spot him anywhere. Crap. Where had he gone? Didn’t he know he was a possible candidate for clearing the cobwebs from my vagina? My own personal cobweb duster.

  “Um...” Zoey cleared her throat before she helpfully offered, “He went that way.”

  I jerked around to scowl at her. Then I pointed at Quinn. “Stop laughing. My groove’s been on an extended vacation.”

  He immediately pursed his lips tight, holding in a grin. I narrowed my eyes and waited a tick to make sure another laugh didn’t slip out. Then I glanced at Zoey. She pointed me in the right direction. I nodded my thanks and turned that way, grateful when I spotted my possibly first one-night-stand man straight ahead.

  I closed in on my target, a determined woman on a mission. I was going to get my life and my girl power back tonight if it was the last thing I did. Fuck Sander Scotini and what he’d turned me into. And fuck Oren Tenning for rejecting me. I wasn’t going to let those assholes get me down.

  The stranger’s back was to me as he talked to two other guys. I’m not sure why I’d singled him out. Maybe because he was the antithesis of Oren. Shorter, pale-headed, not at all sporty-looking in a polo shirt and dark gray pleated slacks. I doubted Oren even owned a pair of slacks.

  With one last glance back at Zwinn, I sent them a “watch this shit” grin and plowed ahead until I rammed into my target’s back, making him lurch forward and dump the lager he was holding all over the front of his pretty yellow polo shirt.

  “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Forcing myself not to snicker in triumph, I grabbed up a handful of napkins from the table next to us. “Are you okay? I can’t believe I did that.” Or that I’d nailed him so perfectly.

  He turned to me slowly, his face molted with rage, only for his expression to clear when he saw me. I batted my lashes and cooed out my sympathy as I took in his soaked shirt. “Oh, you poor thing. Let me get that for you.” I dabbed at his chest a few times—not a bad chest, but not the best either—before I bent in front of him to sop up the spilled beer on the floor by his feet. Once I had the floor reasonably dry, I stayed kneeling but lifted my face to meet his gaze.

  “Did I get everything?” I’m not sure if it was how close my face was to his junk, the breathiness in my voice, or the complete innocence I tried to blink into my eyes, but the guy fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

  “Uh...” His attention darted from my face, to the front of his pants, and then back to my face as I rose back to my full height.

  “Let me buy you another drink.” He didn’t seem to notice I wasn’t wearing a legal-to-drink wristband like he was, meaning I wasn’t able to buy him shit, unless it was plain soda. If he had, he might’ve known how severely I was tricking my way into a meet-cute.

  Instead, he stepped right into my trap. He lifted his hand to stop me from turning toward the bar. “No, that’s okay. How about I get you a drink instead?”

  “Really?” Wow, this was almost too easy. “That’d be great. Thanks.” I glanced surreptitiously toward the bar as I tucked a long piece of bangs out of my face.

  My stomach swarmed with nerves. Most of the crowd had gathered around the stage as Asher and his band began to set up their instruments, which left the bar area less congested. I could see Noel from where I stood as he served someone a bottled beer. Mason Lowe was behind the bar with him, but neither of them noticed me, so I took a small step to the side to hide myself a little better and kept smiling at Mr. Mission Accomplished.

  “I’m Caroline,” I called over the noise as I held out my hand.

  “Trey,” he answered, shaking with me and tugging me just a little closer to him before he let go.

  Asher chose that moment to interrupt us. He turned on his mike and introduced the band, Non-Castrato. The crowd grew rowdy until the drummer counted off the first song and all the guitars started in. When people realized they were playing an original, something Asher had written called “Slingshot,” the female fans began to scream.

  Then Asher leaned in to sing, and the female fans promptly shut up so they could hear him. I grinned at how captivated he could hold an audience.

  Trey nudged me in the arm to get my attention. “Have you heard them before?”

  I could’ve told him any number of things—how well I knew Asher, that I owned their album and had all their songs memorized, that I came to watch Non-Castrato play just about every Friday. But I kind of wanted to be a little more mysterious and illusive.

  “Oh...a couple times,” I answered, smiling evasively.

  He smiled back, though his eyes had a hard time staying on mine. They liked to wander and dip, checking out my chest. He definitely wasn’t uninterested. If I wanted him, I could probably snag him. Now, I just had to figure out if I really wanted him.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  He paused before answering, flagging down a waitress and taking two bottles off her tray before paying for them.

  As he turned back to me, offering me one of them, I bit my lip. He hadn’t bothered to ask if I wanted this brand of beer, or even if the drink I preferred was beer. That had to be a mark on the con side of my list. But he did have an awfully pretty smile and very expressive eyes that let me know just how much he liked what he saw when he looked at me. That tallied two checkmarks on the pro side. I decided to give him another chance before I made my final decision.

  “Thanks,” I said and reached for the bottle. But before I could gain possession, another hand swooped in and took it from him.

  My stomach sank into my knees.

  Busted.

  I looked up, expecting to find a furious Noel, but was shocked to see Oren instead. Ignoring me, he glared down my prospective one-night stand as if he wanted to kick Trey’s ass.

  A bubble of excitement bounced around in my chest. Was he jealous? He kind of looked jealous. A mad jealous. I hoped he was jealous and swept me away, forgetting about his four skanks, and took me home with him instead.

  “Are you fucking blind, asshole?” Grabbing my elbow, he lifted my arm and waved my bare wrist in Trey’s face. “Do you want to go to jail tonight for giving alcohol to a minor?”

  My mouth fell open as hypocrite Tenning continued to glower at Trey, because Oren just happened to be one of Noel’s coworkers who gave me free alcohol whenever he was working the bar and Noel was not.

  “I...I...” Face flooding a bright, embarrassed red, Trey glanced at me, his eyes wide with alarm. I could tell by the look on his face he’d just realized I’d played him. “I didn’t know she was a minor. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, maybe you would’ve gotten the clue if you’d been able to stop staring at her tits long enough to see that she wasn’t wearing a wristband, fuckwad.”

  I tried to jerk my arm out of Oren’s grip
, but he refused to let go. Taking a step closer to Trey, he asked, “Do you even know who her brother is?”

  Oh God. He just had to go there, didn’t he?

  Even more worry lit Trey’s face as he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing quickly. “N-no.” He darted a glance toward me. “Who’s her brother?”

  Oren grinned. “The name Noel Gamble ring a bell?”

  “Shit,” Trey croaked. “You mean the football quarterback?”

  “Mmm hmm.” Oren hitched his face to the side, motioning toward the bar. “And he’s right over there, behind the bar.”

  We all looked—Trey, his two friends, me, even Oren—and yep, there was Noel watching us, his expression pissed and his arms crossed stonily over his chest in his signature disappointed big brother stance.

  The three guys Oren was intimidating whimpered, “Oh shit,” together.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Trey turned to me to offer his apologies, but I guess he was too worried about talking directly to me because he hesitated and promptly turned back to Oren. “I’ll never talk to her again. I swear.”

  “You better not, scumbag. Now get lost.” When he made a dismissive motion with his chin, Trey and his friends cleared out, tripping over each other in their haste.

  My face flooded with heat. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever felt so humiliated in my life, like a little girl who’d just been reprimanded for misbehaving.

  Oren puffed out his chest in self-congratulations. “Damn that was easy.” He grinned at me. “But what a bunch of pussies, huh?” Then he took a big, long swig of the beer that had been meant for me.

  As I watched him laugh and wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, my humiliation morphed into red, hot rage.

  “What...the...hell?” I shoved him right in the chest, using both hands and trying not to notice how defined his pecs felt under my palms. So much better than Trey’s had been—even though that was so not the point.

  My beer he had confiscated sloshed onto him, in his face and down his shirt.

  He leapt back, jerking the bottle upright. “Easy, woman! This is my favorite shirt.”