Love Shots 1: Love at First Night
Author
Guinevere
Reads
82.9K
Chapters
4
Chapter 1
Book 1: Love at First Night
CARLOS
Burning. Sweet. Bold.
I didn’t even know what my drink was called, but it looked pretty to the eye. And I like pretty things.
“How long are you staying in town, Carlos?” my buddy Matthew asked.
He was downing drinks left and right, with no care for the women swooning at his side, all of them desperately trying to get his attention.
Matt and I have been friends ever since we met in college. His striking good looks, paired with his dark, brooding personality, have always attracted a number of people. Women, in particular.
Whether it was at school, galleries, or at our workshop, he always seemed to draw a crowd of ladies. And tonight was clearly no different.
“About a week or so…how about you?”
“As soon as the workshop’s done tomorrow, I’m catching the earliest flight back home,” Matthew grunted, running a hand through his hair and revealing his muscled, tattooed arm. I swore I could’ve heard someone audibly swoon.
“Isn’t Georgia your hometown? Why are you in a rush to fly back?” I asked, remembering his childhood home was a small town in the South.
“It is, and I hate it,” he groaned, and I chuckled.
“Your melancholic ass can’t stand the bright and buzzing energy here?”
“That, and I don’t want to run into any of my family,” Matt said quietly.
I nodded, not wanting to prod. I knew he wasn’t on good terms with his family, but I didn’t realize it was to this extent.
“I’m heading back to the hotel,” he suddenly declared, getting his bill from the bartender. “You should head back soon too. Angie wouldn’t be pleased if we were late to her workshop tomorrow. That’s the only reason I even came here in the first place,” he sighed.
I nodded and watched his figure disappear into the crowd.
“One more of this, please,” I told the bartender, pointing to the glass he had given me earlier. With swift hands and nimble movements, he prepared my drink and placed it in front of me.
Swiveling the chair to face the crowd, I held up my glass, the pink ombre shining beautifully against the club’s lights. I was admiring the colors swirling inside my cup when a woman suddenly walked by, her figure seen through my glass.
A low whistle escaped my mouth, and I brought my glass down to admire the woman more clearly, without my rose-tinted drink obscuring my view.
Wavy auburn hair, a small face, average height, but far from average body. Her curvaceous figure was phenomenal, and I could see I wasn’t the only one drawn to her.
Men and women around her left lingering looks—attraction, envy, curiosity. She was dressed in a cute, sparkly dress, perfect for a night out, yet she looked clearly lost and out of place.
I didn’t realize I was staring for too long until our eyes locked.
Her gaze swept over my entire body before settling back on my face.
She suddenly started to walk in my direction, strutting like a model—confident and powerful. The closer she got, the more I could see her piercingly blue eyes. The same blue eyes that were locked on mine.
I could feel the air knock out of me when she wouldn’t look away. She was inching closer, and with just a few centimeters between us, she looked away and stepped to the side, calling the bartender.
I couldn’t help but bite my lip. Damn.
“Can I get a whiskey on the rocks? Thanks,” she ordered.
From this distance, I got to admire her beauty up close. A heart-shaped face with skin as white as snow. Her slender neck, her ample breasts, and a well-endowed ass.
She looked like a Greek goddess who had graced me with her beauty.
“It’s impolite to stare, you know,” she said, turning her face toward me.
“Beautiful,” I muttered under my breath. I couldn’t help it—she was gorgeous, and I could feel my blood pumping in excitement. Pretty things, beautiful things… Whether it was a person, an animal, a scene, or an object, all things that catch my eye give me a serotonin boost.
“You’re doing it again,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“I can’t help it. I love looking at pretty things, and you, my lady, are gorgeous,” I said, flashing her one of my signature charming smiles.
“Ugh.” She took a seat beside me and swirled her drink before taking a sip of the amber liquid.
“I speak no lies.” I shrugged. “What’s your name?”
Hearing my question, her eyes shot to mine before sweeping down my body. Those same striking eyes seemed to see beyond my soul, making me both nervous and excited.
“Delilah,” she said. “And you?”
“Carlos,” I answered, tipping my glass in her direction.
She hesitantly brought her glass to meet mine. The clinking sound was barely audible amidst the bar’s loud music.
“So…what brings your lonesome self here, Delilah?” I asked, liking the way her name rolled off my tongue.
“I… I don’t know. I don’t even like loud places,” she said, cringing at the increasing rowdiness of the bar.
I laughed. She was definitely lost.
“What?”
I said what I had thought the moment I’d laid eyes on her. “You’re definitely dressed for the part, but you look so lost,” I chuckled.
Hearing my words, her cheeks turned slightly pink as she suddenly downed her drink.
“Whoa there.” I was surprised she didn’t flinch from just downing a whiskey. Her previously faint blush was more prominent now.
“I don’t see a problem with being lost,” Delilah suddenly said, closing her eyes briefly. There was a quiet pause between us before she continued. “…being lost leads to being found.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Because I found you.
