Free True Loves (A Collection of Firsts) by Michelle A. Valentine Page A

for a second, as though he’s debating whether to follow me or not, but I refuse to acknowledge his existence. Eventually, he gives up and heads toward the table the twins occupy. As soon as his ass hits the seat, a perky blonde plops down in his lap. He wraps his arm around her waist and takes a long pull from his beer bottle. She whispers in his ear. He nods and gives her that sexy-cocky grin I’m starting to hate.
    I tear my eyes away as the girl leans in and kisses his lips. I grip my bottle a little too tightly and narrow my eyes. Then it hits me why I feel so angry, and I can’t believe it. I’m actually a little jealous. I chug the rest of my beer and try to drown out the thought. What Noel and I had is in the past, and I have no right to feel jealous when he’s with someone else.
    A man who resembles a younger version of Steven Tyler with his crazy appearance sits next to me and orders a beer before turning his attention to me. A blush creeps up my neck when I turn to find him watching me intently. His lips turn up into a smile, and I return my eyes to the bottle in front of me.
    The man shoves a strand of his long black hair behind his ear. “You need another?” His accent is delicious. Something about a British accent is incredibly sexy.
    I nod. “Sure.”
    Mr. Accent gestures for another beer, and I study his features. His black hair hangs nearly to his broad shoulders, and his tattooed hands poke out from the long-sleeved shirt he’s wearing. Both of his ears are pierced, along with one eyebrow, and his eyes are deep chocolate. He’s obviously in a band, most of the guys in here are, but I can’t put my finger on which one.
    He turns toward me and holds out his hand. “I’m Striker.”
    Ah. That’s where I’ve seen him. He’s the front man of Embrace the Darkness.
    I slide my hand in his. “Lanie Vance.”
    The bartender returns with my drink and winks at the rocker as she sets it down in front of him.
    “Here you go, love,” he says and slides the bottle in my direction. “So, what’s a beautiful lady like you doing in here with this lot?”
    I blush again and run my fingers through my hair. “I’m working.”
    He raises his eyebrows. “Blimey! You’re a—”
    My eyes widen as I realize he thinks I’m a “working girl.” “No! No. I’m not a…you know. I’m a rep for Center Stage Marketing.”
    “Right, I’ve heard of them—out of New York. My record label suggested we look into using them.” He nods and smiles. “Here to pick up new clients then?”
    I lean closer so my voice doesn’t compete with the blaring music. “I’m actually working for Black Falcon on their children’s literacy campaign.”
    “They make you travel to this shithole town in Ohio for that? Seems like rubbish to me.”
    I shrug. “Noel and I are old friends. He kind of got me this job.”
    He touches my hand when he speaks. “Well, old friend of Noel’s, can I get your name and maybe give you a ring sometime?”
    I take a sip of my drink. There’s nothing wrong with giving him my number, right? I’m not dating anyone or anything. Besides, this guy is cute and genuinely interested in getting to know me. “I’d like that.”
    The rocker picks up his beer and clinks it with mine after he stuffs my cell number in his front pocket. “To new friends.”
    “There something you need, Striker?” Noel says behind me.
    I turn on the stool. Noel stands with his arms across his broad chest as he stares at the back of Striker’s head. My eyes flick to Striker, and he lets out a slow breath as he turns around and stands. He chugs the last of his beer and sets the bottle on the counter as if he’s in no hurry.
    “No, mate. I’ve got all I need right here.” He pats the pocket he slid my number into and turns his attention to me. “Lanie, love, it’s been charming. I’ll be in touch.” Striker shoulders past Noel without another look and blends into the crowd.
    “What the hell are you drinking?”