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“You can join us.” I motioned to an unoccupied stool nearby. “We’re taking shots and having the time of our lives.”
Katya snorted. “Was that sarcasm?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” Zoe smiled. “You two do look like you are having fun. It’s been that way since school, and I really wish I could join you, but I can’t. I was on my way back home before I intruded on your evening.”
“But the night is still young. Why are you in such a hurry?”
“Hands of the clock approaching midnight is a young night for you, Katya. Always has been, especially where good music dwells. Not for me, anyway. I might be ‘older’ now, but I keep strict curfews.”
“Of course you do, possessor of the black belt.”
Chuckling, I nudged Katya in the side and leaned forward to give Zoella a hug. “Still, it’s great seeing you again, after all these years. And you look so good, by the way. I hope we bump into you again, someday soon.”
“That’s just Lena’s wish; I’m not so eager. If we do bump into you some other time, keep the savior story behind the backdrop where it belongs, okay?” Katya said and blew her an air kiss.
“How do you put up with her?” Zoe shook her head and laughed as she walked away.
“I try,” I said to Katya, and she raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Was that really sarcasm, or do you want to go home? Because I can do that right now for you. If you want us to drop these glasses and walk right back through that door, I’ll do it in a heartbeat, and you know it.”
Slowly swallowing down the uncertainty, I fiddled with the shot glass and lifted a slice of lemon to my lips.
Yes, I wanted to go home. I wanted to snuggle between blankets, drinking hot chocolate with Jaz while we listened to Nana’s popular make-believe stories. But most of all, I wanted my mother to be healthy again.
When I looked up to see Katya eagerly waiting for a response, I mustered a smile of courage, shoving the pain back inside. “And why would I want you to do that when we came here to shake some ass and get drunk, huh?”
“I’m not shaking any ass or having fun if you aren’t, Lena. There’s no having fun without you.”
“But I swear, I’m having the time of my life. Especially after I noticed that man across the bar hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you, from the second you started talking to Ace—oh, look, he’s coming over as we speak, practically drooling.”
“W—what? You’re lying.” Hitting panic mode, a sudden burst of red spread across Katya’s pale cheeks, but she dared turn around. A deeper look in my eyes told her I wasn’t bluffing. “Quick, give me the stats. How hot is he? Does he look Russian?”
“You want to talk about that now?”
“Lena!”
“Fine. He looks American. Wait, how the heck would I know what nationality he’s supposed to be?
He’s a six, maybe a seven, I don’t know.
He’s wearing a plain green shirt and jeans, but he’s cute, with brown hair and prominent freckles.
Not that tall or young-looking. Kat, he’s closing in.
You can rate the stats yourself when you’re up close and personal. ”
I flashed a smile in time before the man came up to Katya’s side, beaming.
“Hi.”
Katya took a deep breath before turning her stool toward the man, and I had to clamp my mouth shut to stifle my laughter at how awestruck she appeared.
Up close, the man was definitely a seven.
He invited Katya to the dance floor and, while she admired his tasty-looking biceps peeking from beneath his shirt, her head bobbed uncontrollably.
He held out his hand, and she allowed the mysterious, handsome stranger to whisk her away.
For a while, I kept my eyes on them, watching her laugh into his ear as they leaned into each other, his arms around her waist as they swayed to the beat. From the blissful look on her face, I knew she was in good hands.
The effect of the alcohol fully started kicking in, and pressure built in my bladder. I needed to use the ladies’ room and fast.
Carefully enough not to break my heels—or worse, my legs—I kicked back my stool, landed gracefully, and scrambled over to the restroom, following Ace’s directions.
It was a struggle fighting my way past the crowd, and an even greater struggle going through the narrow passage that led to my destination.
But I saw the light at the end of the tunnel, the black and white female restroom sign hanging above the ceiling, pointing toward the direction of my freedom. I kept my gaze pinned on it, hurrying as fast as I could on heels, and didn’t take note of the approaching brick wall.
“Shit!” My face went splat-first on the solid frame, and the impact instantly hurled me backward. The force was so intense that I forgot the pressing need to pee. I was so close to falling on my rear end when an outstretched arm saved me from imminent humiliation.
A man’s arm.
I didn’t hesitate; I latched onto his tattooed wrist and watched the veins in his calloused hand flex as he pulled me up, bringing me close enough to smell the cologne from his chest.
“Thank….” The rest of my words dried up on my tongue.
I shouldn’t have looked up. I really shouldn’t have.
But I did, and the only thing I could see now, beyond his intimidating height, the glimpse of tattooed forearms peeking from underneath his rolled-up sleeves, the curling black ink on the left side of his neck, and the hard ridges of his sculpted face, were pools of icy blue.
It was cold and ghostly, and though there was a subtle hint of amusement in them, it was like he saw right through me.
The rest of the world faded into blurry nothingness, but the beat of the music remained distinct, more pronounced, and, as I looked at this sinfully handsome man, I felt Kat’s analysis wrapping around every vein, blood cell, and sinew in my body.
If you listen closely, you’ll hear it…an irregularity to the rhythm, an almost predatory sense of push and pull…a rumbling undertone. It’s primal and hypnotic, as if the very heart of the club is beating—hungry and alive. It’s…beautiful. Can you feel it?
Maybe not then, but now….
Now, I could feel it, alright.