Austin
The people in front of me move, allowing me a better look at the girl. Now I can see her body, and damn, she’s hot. This girl works out. I can see the definition in her arms. But it’s not too much. Some of the girls at the gym work out to the point that they have almost no body fat, leaving them with all muscle. No womanly curves, no softness.
This girl has curves, and yet she still has muscle. My eyes linger on her chest, then lower to her lean torso. She’s wearing a tight black t-shirt and jeans that hug her round ass. Shit, she’s got a perfect body.
Boyfriend or not, I gotta go say hello to this girl. I reach her just as she approaches the table she was eyeing. Some guys sit down there and her face falls.
“You want that table?” I ask her, pointing to it.
“What?” She steps back, like I startled her.
“Did you want that table?”
She stares at me and I stare back. I can’t help it. Her face is even prettier up close, and she has these big, deep brown eyes.
“Um, yeah,” she says, “but I’ll just find another one.”
I step up to the table and talk to the guys. “Hey, do you guys mind moving? I was holding this table for a friend.”
They nod at me in that way that says they know who I am and are fans.
“No problem,” the one guy says. They get up and leave.
I hold out a chair for the girl. “It’s all yours.”
“Thank you.” She smiles, and this time it’s a full smile. She has a beautiful smile.
She sits down and I take the seat next to hers. I have a few minutes before I have to go meet up with Van and Dylan.
“So are you waiting for someone?” I ask.
“Yeah. My friend and her boyfriend.”
She didn’t mention having a boyfriend of her own. Maybe she doesn’t.
Her eyes do a quick glance of my body before returning to my face. I’m used to it. I spend hours a day in the gym and it shows, so I’m used to girls checking me out. But I don’t spend all those hours in the gym to get girls. Working out is just something I like to do. I like the way it makes me feel. And I do a job that requires physical labor, so staying in shape makes me less likely to get injured.
“I’m Austin,” I tell her, but I’m sure she already knows that. If she’s here to see the band, she knows who I am.
“I’m Kira.” She smiles again. “I hear this band is pretty good.”
So I guess she doesn’t know who I am. This almost never happens. The band is pretty well known, at least locally. And I’m known because I’m a Wheeler. Girls in Chicago know who the Wheeler brothers are because my brother, Jake, was named Chicago’s most eligible bachelor last year. He was dating Ivy at the time so that title didn’t last, but it boosted girls’ interest in the rest of us. But even before then, people knew who we were because we’d hit the clubs together, and four guys as big and tall as us tend to draw attention.
“You came to hear the band?” I ask. I’m not going to tell her who I am. She’ll find out soon enough.
“Not really. I’ve never heard of them. I just came because my friend asked me to, but I love live bands so I’m glad I came.”
“You’ve never heard of Vandyl?”
She shakes her head. “No. Why? Are they popular?”
I shrug. “They’re pretty popular here in Chicago.”
“So you’ve heard them play before?”
I almost laugh, but stop myself. “Yeah. I go to every one of their concerts.”
“Wow, you’re really a fan.”
“You could say that.” I smile. “Are you new to Chicago?”
“Yeah. I’m from Michigan. I’m starting college next week.”
Shit, she’s a freshman? She must have used a fake ID to get in here.
“I’m starting late,” she says, noticing the questioning look on my face. “I just turned 21, but I took a couple years off before starting college.”
I nod. “Got it.”
I should ask her out. This is my chance to finally be the one to ask instead of it being the other way around. She doesn’t know who I am, and I have a feeling if she did, she wouldn’t care. And for some reason, I like that.
“You need someone to show you around the city?” I ask. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I know all the best places to go.”
“Thanks, but my roommate’s going to show me around. She promised to give me a tour of the city some weekend.”
“Is she from here?”
“No. She’s a friend of mine from back home. We grew up together. She’s just here for college, like me.”
“No offense to your friend, but she won’t be as good a tour guide as me. I know things only the locals know.”
“Oh, really?” She turns toward me more and smiles. “Like what?”
“Best pizza places. Best bars. Best clubs. Best movie theaters.”
“I could probably find that stuff out online.”
Damn, she’s really making me work here. I thought I was feeling some chemistry between us but maybe it’s all one-sided. There’s no doubt I’m attracted to this girl. And although I just met her, I already like her. I like that she showed up in jeans and a t-shirt when every other girl here is dressed up. It shows she’s confident enough to wear what she wants instead of trying to match everyone else. I also like that she smiles a lot. I’m tired of girls that always have a pout on their face. They think it’s sexy but it just makes them look like they’re mad. And what guy wants to look at that all night?
And the other reason I like her? Because she turned me down. I think it’s a Wheeler trait. My brothers and I tend to be attracted to girls who turn us down. Nash spent weeks trying to get Callie to go out with him, and it took Jake months to convince Ivy to go on a date. They were the only two girls who ever turned them down. They had to work hard just to get dates with them, but their efforts paid off and now they’re in love.
I’m not looking to fall in love, but I do want this girl to go out with me.
“You can’t trust what you read online,” I say. “So what do you say? Can I take you out?”
“No, but thanks for offering.”
She still said no? Guess she has no interest in me. I finally find a girl I really like and she won’t even go on a date with me.
I hold up my phone. “Will you at least take my number? That way you can call me if you have any questions.”
“What questions would I have?” She still has a smile on her face. She has this whole time, so does that mean she’s interested? But she turned me down, and she doesn’t seem to want my number.
“Austin!” some girl yells. I don’t know her but she’s got her eye on me as she stumbles through the crowd. She’s drunk, and I try to avoid drunk fans before a concert.
“I need to go,” I say to Kira. “It was nice meeting you.” I offer her my hand.
“You too.” She shakes my hand. Her hands are soft and small but she has a good, firm handshake.
“Enjoy the show,” I tell her, then quickly get up from the table before the drunk girl reaches me.
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