Dial a Stud: Dante's Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

beside me, and we had about a minute’s silence, for what might have been.
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three
     
    Finally I dragged myself off the wall and grabbed her hand. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here. It’s not that late but I can’t go back in there. If I see him again, I’ll be trying to hug the man with my vagina. You know it and I know it. Or even worse, if he’s actually just a really good looking sleaze; I don’t want to see him making moves on another woman.”
    My best friend shuddered at my words. “Good point. Ok then, come on. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
    With one final glance back to the doors of the club, I followed Mel to the nearest taxi in the line of them, waiting for the usual Saturday night drunken crowd to spill out later. We climbed in, gave our address, and I flopped back in my seat, trying not to think about what I’d given up, by not taking Dan up on his offer, to go to his home with him.
     
     
     
     
    I spent the next couple of days with my thoughts entirely taken up with Dan. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and the more I did, the more I managed to convince myself, I’d made a huge mistake by walking away.
    I had trouble concentrating on my work, with images of chocolate brown eyes filling my head, and remembering the feel of those beautiful lips on mine.
    I was lucky I worked from home, but then I didn’t really need to work. My parents were both dead. They’d died when the light plane my father was flying, had hit bad weather and a lightning strike had brought it down. He’d been a commercial pilot for years, and never had anything go wrong, but the one time he’d taken my mother up in the air, they’d died. He’d hired the plane to take her on a small, romantic getaway for their anniversary, and they’d never come home.
    Dad had a very generous payout from work, and both of them had life insurance. As the only beneficiary, I was financially set for life, if I wasn’t completely impulsive. I wasn’t that way inclined, I never had been. Men were my weakness. I was impulsive with them, and made bad choices often, but never in regards to the rest of my life.
    I’d sold my parent’s home, since I hadn’t lived there for a couple of years prior to their deaths anyway, and bought myself the home I now shared with Mel.
    It was brand new, beautiful but modest. I didn’t need some huge mansion of a home. Someone had to clean them, and I had never been one of those people who were happy to be a slave to cleaning a house. I was house proud, sure, but not obsessive about it.
    It was a 4 bedroom, brick home set on half an acre. Enough land to give us some privacy, but not so far out we weren’t accessible to shops, and other conveniences.
    Mel and I had known each other since school, and I knew her mother had driven her crazy with her ways for years, so it was a natural thing to ask her to move in with me.
    I didn’t charge her rent, just got her to help with the bills, and since she was a way better cook than I was, she did most of the cooking. She was my best friend, my cook, my sounding board when I was going crazy, and as she’d demonstrated just a couple of nights ago; she was also my saviour, stopping me from making decisions that could fuck up my life. Well, sometimes at least. We were perfect for one another, given when it came to men; we were both impulsive and stuck on the cycle of picking up the wrong men over and over again. It was the classic, rinse, spin, repeat for us, which simply meant we screwed up, over and over again, and made bad decisions with men.
    We were both intelligent women or so I thought. I worked on my computer doing advertising campaigns for anyone that needed them. I made covers for brochures, books, anything actually. I’d always had a flare for the artistic, and although I didn’t actually paint or draw, I could design things on the computer, and people liked them enough to pay me to do it for them.
    Mel also worked