Page 1 of Want You

CHAPTER 1

OCTAVIA

Octavia Sherwood had absolutely, without a shadow of a fucking doubt, been stood up. Yet she sat waiting at the bar for Blaze94 because the conversations they’d had over the past several weeks had given her hope that maybe, just maybe, she had found the one.

After an hour and a half, however, she was quite certain she had, in fact, not. She asked the bartender to close her tab, sliding her credit card across the bar. She’d gotten a fucking blowout for this, and the prick hadn’t even bothered to show up. A blowout, new dress, and two glasses of sauv blanc, and she was out four hundred and twenty-seven dollars all because she’d done that stupid thing she sometimes did—hoped.

As she turned to leave, a group of men noisily entered the bar.

“Hockey players,” she cursed under her breath, rolling her eyes so aggressively that she had to hold onto the bar so she didn’t tip over.

“Whoa there,” one said, his hands landing on her waist, causing her to tense up immediately.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, knocking his hands away from her and immediately falling over.

Those strong hands were on her again, this time tighter, digging into all the places she wanted hands on tonight, just not in this way and not belonging to this man.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I can let you take another step, Autumn.”

Octavia heaved herself back onto the stool she’d just vacated. “My name isn’t Autumn.”

“What is it then?” He leaned against the bar, and she finally got a good look at him. Definitely an athlete, his lower half giving away that he was indeed a hockey player. He had hockey thighs and she would wager that if he turned around, she’d see a hockey ass too.

He was attractive in that two-glasses-deep kind of way. Effortlessly styled dark brown hair, stubble that would leave her skin raw, and golden brown eyes that stayed on her face instead of moving down. She wouldn’t blame him if they did, her cleavage looked spectacular tonight. She barely registered his lips tipping up the longer she looked, eventually parting to reveal far too perfect teeth for a hockey player.

“Are your teeth fake?” she asked, reaching out as if she was going to tap them.

“The best money can buy,” he said, running his tongue across them.

What would that tongue feel like running over her body, tracing her skin all the way down… She crossed her legs and looked away. She had to get the hell out of here. When she looked back, his eyes were glued to her, not to her chest but to her eyes, like he could see right through her defences.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m not drunk. I just don’t do the stiletto thing that often.” She gestured down at her feet, where her sister Flora’s four-inch red stilettos sparkled. Damn shoes, she thought, but Flora had insisted Blaze94 would be eating out of the palm of her hand if he saw what those heels did to her legs and ass.

“Ah.” He nodded, looking around. “Are you expecting someone?”

She could lie and say no, she was here alone, drinking, or maybe a date had ended. Perhaps she should say that she had been out with her friends.

She huffed and looked at the bottles lining the back of the bar. “I was supposed to be,” she admitted bitterly. “He didn’t show up. Unless you’re Blaze94 and you lied about being,” she gestured at his height. “Six feet?” The man in front of her was definitely well over six feet.

“Do you want me to be Blaze94?” He grinned. “Because I can be, if you want. I’ve got nothing else going on tonight.”

Octavia looked back at where the other guys had gathered in the lounge area, already pouring shots out of an expensive looking bottle of tequila.

“Won’t your friends miss you?”

He shook his head without even sparing a glance toward the guys. “I’ll just be thinking about you the whole time anyway.”

His brown eyes actually sparkled. Who the fuck had eyes that did that? Or maybe she was indeed a bit drunk. No, she thought, she was horny. That’s what she was. Horny, disappointed, and pissed off she’d wasted money and energy preparing for a night that would never happen. Not to mention she’d spent weeks building a foundation with the guy online.

“What’s your name?” she asked, waving the bartender over and asking for water. “What do you want?”

“Water, please,” he said, his eyes not leaving her again. “My name’s Nathan. And you are?”

“Octavia.”

“Great name.” The bartender set their glasses down, and she immediately picked hers up to take a long gulp. Nothing sexier than a woman gulping down water. Nathan’s remained untouched. “Are you nervous, Octavia?” he asked, his fingers drumming on the bar top.