An Angel's Flight From Hell
“Hey you’re still coming over tomorrow to help me move my sister in right?”
Anderson DeLower is one of my best friends and my fellow teammate. He’s a wide receiver of the Atlanta Crusaders and we’ve been inseparable since our rookie year, five years ago. However, this means nothing to me right now. His words fall upon deaf ears at the moment, because I’m currently eye fucking a busty girl with dark hair across the bar. She’s talking to one of her friends right now, but she looks back at me every few seconds or so and flashes me a smile full of perfect white teeth.
“Yeah, yeah sure.” I wave him off, still focused in on the petite, gorgeous woman and I idly wonder what her cup size is.
“I could suffocate between tits like those and die a happy man,” I mutter, mostly to myself. He just shakes his head.
“So... Are we just going to pretend like you’re not eye fucking my wife?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at me.
My lust is disintegrated with those fourteen words and I groan. “Sorry, man. It’s dark in here.”
Andy just waves me off and roll his eyes. “Whatever, I’m serious Luke. My dad is bringing her stuff in tomorrow and I want it all loaded in the house before she gets here.”
Reluctantly, I pull my eyes away from another beauty I’ve spotted and turn to Anderson. “I said I’ll be there so I will. I promise.”
“Alright, well I’ll leave you to it then. I have to be up early.”
I nod and wave off Andy before returning my focus to the long haired girl still sitting on a stool at one of the tall tables. Before I can make my way over to her though, I see her get up from the table and watch as her heels click-clack over to the bar’s exit. She catches another man near the front door and I watch as she offers him a full-toothed smile and places a hand on his arm.
All I can do is shake my head as she takes his arm and leaves the bar with him. So much for trying to get home early.
My phone pings, and when I pull it out of my pocket I see that there’s a message from Andy. It’s a long string of laughing emojis-- he no doubt saw what transpired before heading out. I send him back the middle finger one and put my phone away.
Being that it’s a slower night at the bar due to it being a Thursday, there are few women here tonight. Anderson and I stopped in after our practice because it was close by. And apparently Lolita. I cringe at the fact that I’d just been imagining things about her that I’d never admit out loud. In my defense, though it is dark in here.
I hadn’t come here with the purpose of picking up a woman, but now that I’ve struck out twice I feel the need to redeem myself. After eyeing all of the women in the bar, I sigh and I’m about to leave when the seat beside me scratches against the wood floor from being pulled back, and a sea of bouncy, dark blonde curls nearly hit me in the face.
“Bourbon, neat please. I just had the flight from hell and I’m ready to forget about it.” Her sweet voice has a hint of a southern twang to it and I wonder if she’s from Georgia. She sounds like a local.
“You got it gorgeous,” the bartender tells her.
I try to study her from my peripheral vision, but it’s almost impossible with her wild mane blocking the way. It’s so long it reaches down to her lower back and the curls are endless. I’ve never seen hair like hers before.
I turn my body slightly to take a look at her and I am not disappointed when I do. She’s wearing tiny denim jean shorts and a red Atlanta Crusaders T shirt that’s pulled tight across a rack that makes the long haired girl’s from earlier, look like a back. Her perfect, golden tanned skin glows in the dim lights and although I can’t really see her face from the side, I can see her lips. So plump and glossy, they make my mouth water. I’m about to say something to her, but she beats me to it.
“Are you going to sit there and gawk or are you going to ask for my name?” She asks, turning to look at me.
Holy Shit. She’s fucking gorgeous. A smattering of freckles dust the expanse of her cheeks and large, stunning hazel eyes frame her heart shaped face. A single nose piercing twinkles in the dim bar lamp and I have to force myself to look away so she doesn’t think I’m a creep.
“Sorry. I’m Lucas.” I finally snap out of my trance and hold out my hand to her. She shakes it.
“So, Holli. You barely look old enough to drink and you’re out here ordering Bourbon? That must’ve been some flight.”
Holli’s twinkling laughter makes me feel ten feet tall. As does the glorious smile that follows. “Twenty six actually, but I’ll take the compliment.”
“Are you coming to Atlanta or coming back?” I raise an eyebrow at her and watch her sip her drink. My dick takes notice of the way those lips of hers wrap around that straw. Smooth dude.
“Coming back. I’m originally from here. I moved to attend university, but I got accepted into grad school here this past June, so here I am,” she says, holding the palms of her hands face up.
“What about you? Are you from here?” She asks, blinking. It is in this moment, I realize she has absolutely no idea who I am.
Did you send down this angel for me, God?
It’s not often that a girl doesn’t at the very least recognize me, but when it happens it’s refreshing. Girls these days will drop their panties just because of your name, your money and or, your status. I like to think I can attract women on my own merit.
Holli sets her drink back down on her napkin and tilts her head. She narrows her eyes at me and offers me a sly smile. “Tell me Lucas, are you any fun?”
I nearly choke on my beer and Holli smiles. She folds her hands in her lap as she waits for my answer. Jesus, this girl has me so flustered, my game isn’t just off right now. It’s non-existent.
“I can be,” I answer honestly. I flash her a wide smile and her beautiful eyes widen. Her blush creeps up over her cheeks and I’m relieved to be taking back some of my power.
“Good. Because fun, is something I could use right now.” I watch her as she stands up from her barstool and grabs her jacket from the one next to her. She holds up a key card and winks at me.
I say a silent prayer, thanking the universe for my turn of luck. After I pay mine and Holli’s tab, I follow her out of the bar into the warm, Atlanta night.