Drip Drop Teardrop, a Novella Read Free Page A

Maybe we should
tell someone!”
    Avery managed a weak
shake of her head, not entirely sure what had just happened to her.
But the last thing she wanted was drawing attention to the
situation. Trembling, she had to force her body to respond to the
music again until eventually her muscles relaxed into it, her heart
racing at a normal speed for the exertion she was putting it
through. At some point Sarah told her she was going to get another
drink and Avery threw her a nod in response before spinning back
into the throng of dancers, not caring she was alone; she just
closed her eyes and let the music sluice over her.
    The beat of
the Black-Eyed Peas began to wind down as the mix of the next song
seeped into it, and Avery opened her eyes in disappointment as Paul
Weller’s You Do Something to Me came on. She wasn’t the only one confused by the
song choice, but pretty soon people shrugged it off and coupled up,
swaying to the sexy romance of the music.
    Avery sighed and turned
on her heel, intending to leave the dance floor. She walked
straight into a brick wall of a chest. This beautiful, fresh woodsy
smell fluttered up her nose and she tilted her head back slowly,
her eyes taking in the dark suit, crisp white shirt, the
broad-shoulders, the strong jaw. And then that face. That scar. For
a moment she could look at nothing else. It was so deep the skin
around it seeming to curl into itself, slightly red compared the
paleness of the rest of his face. It was a hateful disfigurement.
It was hard to see past it. But as that unfamiliar heat crawled up
from her lower belly Avery managed to unglue her eyes from the scar
and catch his gaze. His eyes bored into her with an intensity that
freaked her out. His eyes were black. Jet black. Fragments of light
flickering and reflecting back at her from them. Now that she
wasn’t so transfixed by the scar she could see he was older than
her by the sharp, strong planes of his face. He was so pale. And
that scar… she shivered.
    He scared the crap out of
her.
    “ May I have
this dance?” He asked in a soft accent she couldn’t quite place –
it sounded English but it wasn’t.
    Her jaw dropped. Creepy
scarred guy wanted to dance with her? She felt her throat closing
as she glanced around. Just as she feared, people were watching.
Her heart began to escalate as the old irrational terror came back.
Her aunt had tried to get her to see a psychiatrist about it but
that would mean someone being completely focused on her and well…
wasn’t that really the whole fruit of her fear. Avery felt a panic
attack come on as people grimaced at her for talking with creepy
scar guy.
    But then he touched her
wrist.
    Delicious
heat, like dipping into a hot bath on a cold, rainy day, rushed up
her arm and her chest opened, her heart slowed. Turning back to him
his face was still taut but his eyes seemed… kind? Calm flooded
over her, and despite her fear Avery found herself nodding. Why am I nodding? She
asked herself distantly. He slowly reached out and placed a strong
hand on her waist, drawing her close. Her breath hitched in her
throat as she raised her arm, placing one hand on his shoulder and
the other in his left hand. Her tiny hand got lost in his huge one
and he smiled softly at her, knocking the rest of the air out of
her body. She was so sure he was hideous but when he smiled… the
scar seemed inconsequential.
    His wicked smile widened.
“Breathe,” he whispered softly, and pulled her tight against him so
that her head rested against his shoulder. She shuddered as he
breathed her in, positive he must feel her heart thumping against
his chest. The hand at her waist slid gently up and down her spine
and she shivered, wanting to burrow closer to him. The hot tingles
unfurled across her body and she felt this overwhelming need to
melt into him. Even as her mind told her he frightened her,
repulsed her even, a fog of intoxication descended around her as
they moved perfectly together. Her mouth