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“Good. Let’s go.”

I took her hand, led her out the door, and helped her into our waiting town car.

Time to ride or die.

At ten-thirty, just after dinner, we entered the huge club on Sunset Boulevard. We checked in our coats and cell phones at the cloakroom, then Pedro, Tia’s security guard for the evening, plowed us a path through the crowd in the direction of the VIP section on the opposite side of the venue. Music reverberated and boomed through the huge speakers mounted on the ceiling. A fog machine on the stage billowed smoke into the air. Green, blue, and red lasers flashed and flickered across the gyrating partygoers.

“Holy fuck.” I yelled at Tia as we followed Pedro. “This place is massive.”

“Welcome to LA.” She clutched onto the back of my T-shirt. “Please don’t lose me. I’ll never find you.”

Maybe we’d had too much wine at dinner, but I liked the desperate plea in her voice. “I won’t. We have to meet Morgan by the stage first. Let’s go.” I tapped Pedro on the shoulder and pointed toward the stage. He nodded and changed course. I entwined my fingers with Tia’s and wove through the crowd. Holding her hand seemed so natural; the warmth meandering up my arm, strange. I threw her a little smile. I’d kept telling myself to stop touching her and flirting with her, but I couldn’t. We’d demolished a bottle of wine at dinner. More alcohol wouldn’t help this situation, but I needed another drink...or ten.

“Lewis.” Morgan hugged me hello, then turned to Tia. His eyes brightened. “Well, holy shit. You’re on Through The Smoke. Tia, right? I love your show. Nice wig. Poor disguise, girlfriend. Lewis, why didn’t you tell me you were hanging out with star power?”

I chuckled. “I’m moving up in the world.”

“About fucking time.” He squeezed my arm. There were no tiny shockwaves rippling through the air or beneath my shirtsleeve like I’d gotten from Tia’s touch. And Morgan, with his dark skin and golden eyes, was totally doable.

I placed my hand on the small of Tia’s back. My fingertips found a sliver of bare skin beneath the bottom of her shirt. Hmm. So soft.

No, focus. “Tia, Morgan is super talented. We met in New York about four years ago through Emilio. He’s one of the best DJs in the country.”

Morgan swiped his hand through the air. “Oh, keep talking me up, baby. I love it.” His ego was still as big as Mount Everest. He flicked me on the bicep with the back of his hand. “But what the hell are you doing in LA? I’ve seen some posts on social.”

“I’ve moved here to play in a new band. You’ll find out all the details on Tuesday when our first single is released.”

“Oh, I’m intrigued. I can’t wait.” Morgan tilted his chin toward the dance floor. “You two ready to dance?”

“Tia’s got a sore ankle, so we’re here to watch. But you never know what might happen after a few drinks.” I needed to hit the dance floor with some hot guy and work up a sweat. Hopefully Tia would meet someone too.

Morgan stepped in close to me and whisper-yelled into my ear so I could hear him over the music. “Lew, if my memory serves me correctly, you love a little something to get you in the mood to party.” He dipped his hand into his jacket, then took my hand. He pressed two round tablets into my palm and closed my fingers over them. “Enjoy the show on me. We’ll talk after my set.”

Grinning, I tucked the pills into my jeans. I’d save them for another day. Tia raised one inquisitive eyebrow. Taking party drugs around her wouldn’t be a smart idea. I didn’t need to get more fucked up than I already was.

We headed to the VIP section. Tia opted for a bar table at the back of the area to avoid recognition, and we ordered a bottle of bourbon. Pedro lingered off to the side, hanging out with a few other security guards. I didn’t see any other celebrities—just dozens of rich LA socialites with more money than sense.

I slid onto a stool adjacent to Tia so we could talk and watch Morgan’s set. Moments later, a waiter placed a bottle of Jim Beam Black and two shot glasses in front of us along with bottles of water. I reached for my wallet in my back pocket, but Tia caught my arm.

“I’ve got this. I have nothing else to spend my hard-earned money on these days, so let me buy the drinks. You paid for dinner.” She grabbed her Platinum AMEX out of her clutch and swiped it across the waiter’s POS terminal. With a sweet smile, she sent him on his way.

“Thank you. But I don’t mind paying.” Even though we were just friends, it felt like the gentlemanly thing to do. I wasn’t rolling in cash, but I wasn’t destitute either. I poured the shots and chinked my glass against hers. “Here’s to the night ahead.”

“Cheers.”

We downed the shots. The cold bourbon burned my throat and sent fire coursing through my veins. God. I’d needed that. After the wine at dinner, we were already tipsy, so this would definitely put us in the party mood.

With a flicker of lights and a booming bass beat, Morgan’s set took over the club. People on the dance floor screamed and hollered, jumped, and waved their hands in the air. The music rattled my eardrums and pummeled the center of my chest. The reverberations hummed through the floor and zipped up my legs. Yep. That was good.

Tia nudged her knee against my leg. “So, are we just gonna sit here and check out hot guys? Are you aiming to hook up?”

Grinning, I racked up another round of shots. I should hook up. Other than making out with a few random guys on nights out, I hadn’t slept with anyone since Emilio. “Maybe. We’ll see how the night pans out.”

“I don’t mind if you do.” She wriggled and straightened her wig, the colored disco lights catching the silver strands like a rainbow. “Just let me know if you take off with someone so I can make my own way home.”

I handed her a shot. “Get this into you, and we’ll see what happens.”

She downed it without hesitation. She hadn’t drunk at Duke’s last night, but she wasn’t holding back tonight. I’d be carrying her out of here if she wasn’t careful. But maybe we both needed to let loose and stop worrying about everything bombarding our lives—work, LA, each other. Was that even possible?