Starter // Chapter Three

“Who is that?” Taylor asked, staring in her direction. He took in the expensive looking dress that adorned her thin, but obviously physically fit frame, the interesting and unique cut-out pumps on her feet, and most importantly, the absolutely gorgeously confident look on her face. She wasn’t giving off the self-conscious vibe so typical of girls his age and she certainly didn’t look like she cared about what anyone in the room was thinking of her.

“Who is who?” Isaac asked disinterestedly, still gazing around the room and not even attempting to follow Taylor’s gaze.

Her,” Taylor said insistently, nodding in her direction, “In the black and white dress.”

“How should I know?” Isaac gave Taylor an annoyed look, “Why, did you sleep with her or something?”

“What?! No.”

“Why do you care?” Isaac asked, finally taking a good look at Taylor to find him still staring at the woman, “Earth to Taylor!”

“She looks… interesting,” Taylor said, unable to take his eyes off of her. She was making small talk with some people, one of whom he’d seen with her at the bar. Taylor didn’t know her, but he could tell that she was ready to be done with the conversation she was having. Her smile looked too tight and the knuckles on the hand holding her purse were turning almost white. Something inside him made him want to go rescue her, but he reeled in the impulse as he had never met her and didn’t even know her name. Taylor inwardly blanched at the fact that he had even considered something so ridiculous.

“She looks old,” Zac chimed in, his opinion not welcome in the slightest, which Taylor made obvious by punching him hard in the arm. Zac whined and looked at the point of impact as if he expected to see blood.

“Well, you look like a fucking moron,” Taylor countered, “Drink your big boy drink and shut your mouth. She does not look old.”

“She does look older, Tay, you have to admit that,” Isaac said, “Like, forties?”

“Your point?” Taylor asked blandly.

“I never pegged you for the type to go after someone that much older,” Isaac shrugged, sipping his drink.

“What do they call women who date guys a lot older than them… lions?” Zac asked.

“They’re called cougars, and I thought I told you to shut up,” Taylor spat, “But she keeps looking over here. Stop looking at her!” Isaac looked quizzically at Taylor before laughing.

“What’s wrong with you?” Isaac asked, “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I have no idea. I can’t stop looking at her.”

“It’s called lust, Taylor. Given your record, I’m sure you’re well aware of it.”

“I have to go talk to her,” Taylor said, ignoring Isaac’s statement and turning towards her determinedly, “Wish me luck.” She was standing next to her friend, both of them occasionally turning to glance in his direction. He wasn’t sure if it was because she had noticed him or because they had noticed that he was looking at her. The fact was that it didn’t matter, because he was going to talk to her regardless. His feet moved him towards her. Taylor had approached hundreds of girls and as far as he was concerned, this one would be no different. He had many different tactics in his bag of tricks reserved solely for convincing women that he was their best option for the evening. Even though he saw her sigh when she caught sight of him approaching, he wasn’t deterred. Lots of girls pretended not to be interested. This was a pursuit he was definitely not giving up on easily.

“Hi, I’m Taylor,” he said once he’d reached them.

“Yeah, we know,” the friend said, “I’m Magda Fox and this is Quin Harper.” Quin Harper. It really was the perfect name for her—different, unusual, and utterly intriguing.

“Can I buy you ladies drinks?” Taylor asked, feeling uncomfortable under the microscope of Quin’s unrelenting gaze.

“Dirty martini,” she told him, holding out her empty glass to him. Magda shook her head.

“I’m good,” she said, “Oh, and would you like at that? Quin, it’s Mark Carver!”

“Who?” Quin asked, obviously not following Magda’s plan to abandon her.

“You know… Mark,” Magda said forcefully, obviously lying, before making a quick exit.

“Sorry. She might have ADD. We’re looking into it,” Quin told him and all Taylor could do for a moment was smile, “So, how’s the music biz? Sick of ‘Mmmbop’ yet?”

“What do you do, Quin?” Taylor changed the subject, not wanting to answer her question that had been obviously laced with a condescending undertone.

“I own a boutique.”

“Oh? What’s it called?”

Noche.”

“How long has it been open?”

“Two years,” Quin said, “Now can we skip past the small talk so you can tell me why you’re really over here talking to me?” It took Taylor a second to recover from her directness. Maybe she wasn’t like the others.

“I was just hoping we could get to know each other a bit, that’s all.”

“Okay, how old are you?”

“I’m 23,” he stated defensively.

“I’m old enough to be your mother,” she said, taking her freshly made drink from the bar and taking a long sip.

“But, you’re not my mother. Not even close,” he responded.

“Do you really think I’m going to sleep with you?” she asked. Taylor cocked his head to the side and really took her in for a second. She had the arm holding her drink resting on the bar at her elbow and the hand holding her purse was down by her side. She was standing completely open to him, no defensive body language whatsoever. It was then he realized that she was playing with him, not dismissing him.

“I do,” he replied confidently.

“Give me one reason why I should,” she said, leaning herself back to rest completely against the bar. He smirked and took a step forward, right into her personal space.

“Because I want you,” he paused and moved even closer, putting his mouth mere inches from her ear, “And because I’m good.”

Four

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