The Next Contestant (9 page)

“On?”

“The offer.”

“One special dinner at a very unique restaurant. I’ll make reservations and pick you up at five-thirty.” He continues to walk backward toward the elevator. “I’ll text you later,” he says and turns around. Once he gets to the elevator, he hits the button and then leans against the wall facing me.

“Thank you for tonight, for taking me to the Hot Wired concert. It was awesome.” I hate to admit that I don’t want him to leave. One date and I can’t stand to be away from him, dread the idea of not seeing him the rest of the week. God. I’m so pathetic!

The elevator doors slide open and Jax steps in. He holds the doors, his head sticking out, and winks. “My pleasure, Timber. My pleasure. Until next time,” he holds out his palm and blows me a kiss, “Until next time.” And then he’s gone.

I take the steps up to fourth floor and before I enter my room, I text Tiffany to make sure she’s not occupying it.

Change of plans. Jax, the gentleman, did not stay so I’m checking to make sure you’re not doing foul things in my room?

T: Unfortunately not. I’m on my way back from a party. No Vincenzo on my arm. Boo.

Poor thing. I’ll take residence in my own room then. You take yours. And thanks for covering my ass even if it didn’t need to be covered.

T: Beeotch! You always know I got your ass. And you got mine ;)

DANCE PRACTICE HAS
been a bitch this week. I suppose I’ve screwed up a few times because my head is in a Jax Nash cloud. I wonder where he’s going to take me to dinner. I’ve tried to get it out of him when he calls or texts, but he continues to talk, purposely ignoring my question.

Saturday rolls around and I force myself out of bed. We have practice this morning. Ugh. After I get myself cleaned up and ready to go, I head down to Tiffany’s and drag her out of bed. “Hurry up and get your practice attire on so we’re not late.”

She groans. “Yeah, yeah,” and then she’s off to the bathroom rushing to get ready. She comes out and we take my beamer to practice.

Per usual, Sandy is giving me the evil eye. She flips her hair over her shoulder, then turns away. Darcy is next to her but is focusing on her next move.

We finish practicing after umpteen times of repeating the choreograph.

“All right, girls. Practice is over, but I’m looking for some suggestions, ideas for changing up the routine a bit. If you have any suggestions, stay after and talk to me,” Coach Step announces.

I stay after and listen to Sandy’s suggestions. I have to admit, their pretty good, but I feel my ideas will work better, or if she’d stop being a bitch to me, we could come up with one hot dance for the Dance Off competition.

“Great, Sandy. Okay, Kimber, let’s hear your suggestions.”

“I agree with some of Sandy’s ideas, but there are some things I think we should add or change in some of the routines, especially the ‘Dirty’ dance we’re going to do at one of the biggest competitions. Since we’re doing a routine to Christina Aguilera’s “Dirty” I think we should have some steamy scenes play into the routine.” I show Coach by doing the moves, but Sandy keeps butting in and we’re going round and round battling over the routine. She keeps ignoring me and my suggestions! It’s pissing me off. I’m going to confront her, and if she still ignores me, then I’m going to talk to Coach Step privately.

“Yes, I agree you both have great ideas. I suggest you put your heads together and keep working on it.” Coach nods toward the exit, her way of telling us to go home, we’re done for the day.

Instead of changing out of my sweaty tank and shorts, I grab my bag and walk toward the exit in the gym, where Tiffany is waiting. I can hear Sandy and Darcy behind me whispering, but obviously not very secretly.

“Why not? I think her ideas are great,” Darcy says. Sandy must have elbowed her because Darcy oomph’s and then grunts. “God, rude. I mean both your ideas together, bitch.”

They both chuckle. I want to glance over my shoulder and smile real big at both of them, to piss Sandy off and get another wench scowl from her, but I don’t.

“You excited for tonight?” Tiffany’s eyes are all saucy and big. I think she’s just as excited as I am.

“I’m excited and nervous. He said to dress casual but won’t tell me what restaurant he’s taking me to, or maybe he’s bluffing me.” Bluffing me. I think about it and my stomach knots up with the idea he might have plans to take me to a hotel or something. I have to be real. He’s a guy. He’s hot. He’s got a long list of fan girls, or so I’ve heard. No way will I allow a hotel. Nope. Not for a while anyway.

I TAKE LONGER
than usual to get ready. I slip into my favorite Rock Revival blue jeans with bling pockets. They hug the globes of my butt cheeks and make my ass look good. At least that’s what my girlfriends said when we’d went shopping a few months ago. I pull a green silky shirt carefully over my long but perfectly curled hair. It’s an armless, backless shirt that ties around my neck. My accessories consist of a thin silver chain with a diamond pendant dangling just below my collarbones and my earrings are simple one-carat diamond studs. I add a touch of shimmery gloss to my lips to enhance their natural pink color.

I race out of my dorm when Jax texts me and tells me he’s pulling into the parking space, and nearly tumble out of the elevator in my hurry to exit the building. I wasn’t about to let him tell me he’d greet me at my room, which he believes is on the second floor; Tiffany’s room.

His black Jag is parked front and center and as he steps out, he’s texting and not looking my way. My phone vibrates in my purse and I know he’s just texted me to buzz him through. I can’t help the giggle that escapes me when he glances up to find me already standing outside.

My heart melts when he smiles warmly. We both move toward each other and he wraps me in a hug to greet me. God. He smells so damn good and when he steps back, I take in his appearance. He looks divine in his dark blue denims, and white form fitting t-shirt that hugs his chest, shoulders, and defines his perfectly ripped abs. My cheeks flush when I catch him doing the same to me.

“You look fucking beautiful. Casual yet dressy and I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands to myself with the exposed skin on your back,” he says then licks his lips.

I clear my throat. “Feeling’s mutual, Mr. Nash.”

“You’re going to have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself with my exposed skin?” he mocks and chuckles, then grabs my hand and leads me to his car.

Jax doesn’t say much for most of the ride, but I catch him sneaking peeks at me out of the corner of my eye. When I glance at him, he grins then looks ahead. His fingers tap on the steering wheel as he listens to some jazzy tune. It’s an odd choice, I think, especially after going to a rock concert. A far cry from the Hot Wired concert or Nine Inch Nails and the way he sang the very dirty parts in my ear… the memory makes me shiver.

“What song is this?” I ask.

Jax glances at me. “What Do You See In Me by The Licked Blues. It’s a local indie talent. I like a variety of music, not just seductive or rock music.” He winks and then turns his attention back to the road.

“I like it. It’s kind of soothing.” Actually, it’s more romantic, but that would be odd to say to Jax. Guy’s aren’t really all romantic, at least not openly.

A red lighted sign,
THE CUTTING EDGE - A Cut Above The Rest,
beams as we pull into a nearly filled parking lot.

Ever the gentleman, Jax opens my door, reaches for my hands, and helps me out of my seat.

We walk hand-in-hand as we make our way inside. Jax informs the attendant of his reservation. I glance around the extravagant, brightly lit dining room. But it isn’t your ordinary restaurant or fancy eatery. There are partitions and behind the ones I can see, there are shiny metal counters with a grilling space on top.

“Right this way, the greeter boy says and leads us in the back, toward some expensive looking deep maroon curtains. He brushes it open with a quick sweep of his hand. “Here you are. Please take a seat and review the menu. Once you’ve decided on what meal you’d like to prepare, pick up the phone,” he points toward the phone built into the wall above the velvety maroon booth. “And order. Instructions come with your meal and all the supplies: knives, spatula, oils, spices, are all at the chefs station.” He waves toward the grill.

Jax slides into the booth, turns slightly, and pats the seat beside him. After I take my spot, next to him, I notice his gaze is feasting on my green silky V-neck shirt.

“Sorry for staring, but you’re beautiful.” He slips his hand over mine.

“Thank you.” I turn away not knowing what else to say to his compliment. “So how does this work?” I ask as I open the menu.

He leans into me and looks at the menu over my shoulder.
“You’ve never been here?”

“No. Never. It’s so different. I like the atmosphere.”

“It’s private. That’s why I chose it. And maybe to check out your…” he inhales and I’m pretty sure he’s smelling me, before he continues. “… Cooking skills.”

“Then you’ll be disappointed. Better choose something easy because I’m no Chef Ramsey.”

“No?” he asks, surprise in his voice.

“Um. No. Not unless you like a big juicy wiener.” I giggle.

Jax leans into me further, his lips so close to my ear I can feel his breath. “I’ve got one of those and it’s already thick and hot.” He nips my ear and god! He’s so bold it’s sexy. “All it needs is a little lip smacking goodness.”

He chuckles and continues. “Or a warm bun to crawl into.”

I elbow him. “You have a dirty mind.”

“You have no idea,” he says and licks my ear before he sits back and takes the menu from me. “I’ll pick something easy.”

Jax orders the meal we will be cooking.

A male waiter wearing a black three-piece suit with a tie that has vegetables imprinted on it steps in. He’s carrying a big metal tray covered with an equally sized lid.

“Good evening,” he greets us as he sets the tray on the counter. “Can I get you something to drink while you prepare your meal?”

“A bottle of Dom Perignon” Jax says.

“A bottle of Dom Perignon coming right up,” the waiter repeats and escapes the room.

“Isn’t that expensive?” I ask, never having tasted wine before, but I think my parents have that in their wine collection. My father once mentioned they preferred the more expensive kind.

“Believe me, there are a lot more expensive wines, but I think you will like this one,” Jax says as he nudges me out of the velvety booth.

I step up to the metal table and remove the lid from the tray. “Fajitas?” I ask as I look at the ingredients.

Jax slips behind me, his front to my back, cheek resting against mine as he says, “Yes, steak fajitas. Do you think you can manage chopping up some tomatoes, green peppers, and onions, wiener girl?” I feel his smile against my cheek.

The waiter returns before I can respond. Jax steps to my side and begins pulling spices and olive oil out of the shelf.

The waiter sets the fancy bottle and two wine glasses on the table at our booth and leaves us to our cooking duties.

We work together harmoniously chopping and slicing our dinner. Jax works the grill and I can’t help but watch him. He’s tosses, flips and marinates the steak, peppers, and onions expertly. Then he throws in some spices, stirs it a bit, then swipes it onto a heated plate.

I turn before he can catch me staring at him and begin slicing tomatoes. I startle a bit when Jax steps up behind me. His hands find my hips, sliding seductively forward, his breath on my neck, he uses his chin to brush my hair out of the way, licks my neck… up, down… nibbles… drags his lips and teeth over my jaw… fingers sliding across the low-rise of my jeans, toward the button, but he teases with his fingers finding the flesh of my belly. Gently moving them higher, his breathing hitches. His body is flush against mine causing my heart rate to spike. I know his is too. I can feel it thudding on my shoulder. He cups my breasts, thumbs sliding along the sides of my bra, butterflies flipping inside my stomach, and oh how I want him to keep touching me, to strip me bare and—