Tame Me If You Can

Chapter 15

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Chapter 15

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"So it seems like Jake isn't in it just for sex."

"Mia, when did it ever seem like he was in it just for sex?"

"Ugh, but why did he have to ask me out?"

"That's what people do when they like someone. But I could be wrong."

I'm at a dim bar in West Hollywood with Anna and Zhoe, forcing down a glass of white wine, fidgeting with my black dress. On the bright side, the wine seems to be hitting me.

Zhoe rolls her eyes. "Mia, the guy's smitten by you. And you deserve that."

"Deserve what?" I smile. "To have my heart broken when he gets tired of me? Or to feel like shit when I get tired of him?"

Anna leans forward. "How do you expect to go the rest of your life just thinking that everything is going to go wrong? Do you forget that you're a psychologist? This is your speciality."

I finish the glass with a wrinkled face. "And that's exactly the point that I'm trying to make. If I can't even figure out how to help myself, then how can I allow myself to date? It's stupid, dangerous, and inefficient."

They give each other an exasperated look and I feel guilty for souring the mood. "I'm sorry, guys. Can we please forget about it? Let's dance."

~

My head is buzzing. My body is so relaxed that I don't even mind the close bodies around me. They're right. Intoxication does make things more tolerable.

Except every time his face crosses my mind, I have to shut my eyes and dig my fingers into my thighs to wipe it away.

"You're very beautiful." A blonde guy with blue eyes suddenly approaches. He's nearly my height, wide, and so not my type.

I smile back and lean forward with a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks, you're not bad yourself."

He uses my proximity as a chance to place his hand on my hip, and I don't pull away. I note how his touch doesn't do shit to me, but it's still masculine.

"Can I dance with you?" He says in my ear.

"If you can keep up." I smirk slightly, earning a wider grin from him.

He holds my waist and grinds our bodies to the rhythm like they do when they want to demonstrate a preview of their bedroom skills.

Which are not even slightly impressive.

But I force a smile and pretend to like it. And the guy has no clue. Doesn't realize how much I hate it. He's not Jake. He doesn't notice.

Fuck Jake.

The guy whose name I don't know stares at my lips while our bodies press against each other. "Want to buy me a drink?" I ask, desperate to stop this torture.

He takes my hand and walks us to the bar, asks what I want, makes some small talk. I go on my phone while he orders our drinks, absentmindedly opening the photo I took of Jake from the night we met. So cute...I better put my phone away before I start making out with it. Just get out of my head, Jake.

"Where are you from?" The blondie asks.

"Armenia."

"Oh, like the Kardashians?"