Love Shots 1: Love at First Night
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Guinevere
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Chapter 1
CARLOS
Burning. Sweet. Bold.
I didn’t even know what my drink was called, but it looked pretty to the eyes. 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 on his side who were desperately trying to get his attention.
Matt and I have been friends ever since we met in college. His strikingly 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 attract a group 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, revealing his muscled and 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 went 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 gave 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 beyond average body. Her curvaceous body was phenomenal and I could see I’m not the only one drawn to her. Men and women from 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 when our eyes locked on each other.
Her eyes swept through my entire body before settling back to my face.
She suddenly started to walk towards my direction, like a model whose struts were 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 towards me and with just a few centimeters from my body, 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 graced me with her beauty.
“It’s impolite to stare, you know,” she said, turning her face towards 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 scenery, 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 said, taking a seat beside me. She 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 and it was making me both nervous and excited.
“Delilah,” she said. “And you?”
“Carlos,” I answered, tipping my glass to her direction. She hesitantly brought her glass to mine, the clinking sound 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 place.
I laughed. She’s definitely lost.
“What?”
“The moment I laid my eyes on you, I thought to myself 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 commented, 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 resumed.
“…being lost leads to being found,” she finally said, and I couldn’t agree more.
Because I found you.
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