Page 6 of Love Me (Charlotte Monarchs Hockey #1)

“Anything for you, Mama.” Kevin winks at her and ushers the three of us through the door.

“Do you come here a lot?” I ask.

Kristen laughs. “Yes, but I’ve known Kevin for about a year. He’s the sound engineer at one of the concert venues in town. He barely works here anymore, but he must’ve picked up a shift. It’s a big money-making weekend for the service industry.”

“I can imagine,” I say, more to myself than anyone else.

The bar we enter is a dream come true for kids who were too young to get into clubs in the eighties and nineties.

Mark Morrison’s “Return of the Mack” blasts through the air, and suddenly, I’m transported back to the kitchen of our old house where Mom and I used to dance around to whatever was on the radio.

A line of pendulum lights with hot-pink globes hangs above the main bar, leading to an oversized replica of a Rubik’s Cube suspended by a long rod, while black-light fluorescent tubes are scattered across the rest of the ceiling.

Vintage album jackets and concert posters cover the walls.

Behind the bar, multiple sixty-inch flat-screens play the video of the song that’s blasting from the speakers.

Kristen swings her hips to the beat as she walks toward a doorway, away from the long bar across the room from us. I follow her around a corner to a dark, narrow staircase.

“We’re going to another dance floor, not kidnapping you,” Auden says from behind me.

“I wasn’t worried,” I tell her, excited to be having such a great time with new friends. I hope this will be the first of many outings—with Luke, too.

“It’s too crowded and bright upstairs. The basement is appropriately dingy for dancing,” Kristen calls over her shoulder. The music gets louder as we get closer to the bottom. It’s a different song than what’s playing on the main floor.

The stairs lead us to a dimly lit seating area with low ceilings.

I’m immediately drawn to the hand chairs, which must’ve been taken straight from an eighties-movie prop sale.

They glow neon pink and green under the black-light bulbs above.

The palm of the hand is the seat, while the fingers curl upward to make the back.

I need to get a selfie in one of those chairs before we leave. Hell, I may ask someone where I can buy one. It’d look amazing next to Dad’s vintage Pac-Man arcade table in his game room.

“We should take her to Olde Mecklenburg,” Kristen suggests once we’ve all cleared the last step.

“Olde Mecklenburg? Is that another city?” I yell over the Journey song. Which is hard to do because Steve Perry can belt it.

“No,” Kristen answers. “It’s a local brewery. German beer-hall style. Everyone sits around long picnic tables eating German food and drinking beer. They have a huge outdoor area. It’s a fun place. Super casual.”

A local brewery with a German beer-hall vibe is completely my style.

I whip out my phone and type a quick note to myself.

Usually, I carry a notebook with me since I prefer writing things down, but I switched to a small purse for today.

My phone is all I have with me, and I don’t want to forget the places I’ve been to or heard about today.

“Sounds great.” I pause. “But I work tomorrow.”

“And I’m pretty sure the boys play the Flyers tomorrow,” Auden says.

“You would know, hockey girl,” Kristen teases her.

We shimmy our way from the seating area onto the packed dance floor. “Don’t Stop Believin’” blares, and even though I don’t really like the song, it’s a welcome change from the same ten top-forty tunes we’ve heard at all the other bars we stopped into today. I can only stomach so many pop hits.

When I spot a wicked Beastie Boys’ concert poster from 1986 hanging on the wall behind Kristen, I reach for my phone again. I have to tell my friends back home about this place, but I’ve already forgotten the name.

Above the bar, a sign advertising specialty drinks with names like “Purple Rain” and “Long Island Mr. T” makes me smile but doesn’t tell me where I am.

“What is this place called again?” I yell to whoever can hear me.

Auden leans close to my ear and yells, “The Roxbury!”

The small crowd on the dance floor screams in unison when the opening notes of Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer” fill the air.

Kristen and Auden each wrap an arm around my waist, and we sway together as we sing, making me feel like I’ve been their friend forever.

We belt out the chorus at the top of our lungs with so much flair that Jon Bon Jovi may want us as backup singers.

After bouncing and swaying to a few more eighties hair-band hits, my head is somewhat clearer than it was before we got to this bar. I can’t say dancing helps metabolize the alcohol faster from a scientific standpoint, but it always seems like it does.

“Come dance!” Auden yells, beckoning someone toward us. I follow her gaze to the hand chairs where Luke, Aleksandr, and Pavel look exceptionally comfortable.

Aleksandr smiles at his wife but shakes his head.

Now is my chance to get close to Luke and sit in one of the chairs shaped like a huge hand.

I tap both Auden and Kristen on their shoulders and motion to where the guys are sitting, letting them know I’m going over there, too.

Without giving him warning, I climb onto Luke’s lap and lean back against his chest. It’s a bold move, but I’m fairly confident he won’t shut me down since we’ve been communicating in flirty smiles and touches all day.

“Well, hello,” he greets me.

“Hey,” I respond, unable to contain my silly grin.

The Roxbury is the most fun bar I’ve been to in Charlotte so far. It’s not an every-night kind of place, but it’s certainly my pick for the best music and dancing. Every once in a while, I need to let loose and shake it out.

Being snuggled up to Luke is an odd juxtaposition.

It gives me a sense of peace yet fuels me with fire at the same time.

I can’t concentrate on the blaring music or anything else when I’m this close to him.

The only thing I can think of is straddling him in this crazy, neon-pink hand chair, grabbing his long, thick hair, and covering his lips with mine.

Instead, I lean my head back so it rests on his shoulder.

“Are you drunk?” he asks, squinting at me as though he can read the level of intoxication on my face.

“No.”

Luke’s fingers dance along my waist, attempting to tickle me into another answer. I want his fingers to dip lower.

“Fine,” I admit. “I may be a bit tipsy.”

“A bit,” Luke repeats and laughs. His chest shakes under me.

Before I forget, I dig into my purse and retrieve my phone. “Smile,” I tell him, holding it at arm’s length to take a selfie. I shake my hair out and place my cheek close to his.

The photo is completely on point. Luke and I look like we’ve known each other for years rather than hours. And you can see a bit of the amazing chair.

If I don’t go home with Luke tonight, it won’t be for lack of trying since I’ve literally thrown myself into his lap.

Hopefully, my hardcore flirting doesn’t jinx me into waking up with nothing more than a massive hangover. I’ve never really pursued a guy before. My relationships have always happened organically over time. Then again, time is not something I have a lot of in Charlotte.

“Text that to me, would you?” Luke asks.

“Sure.” I press the screen. “What’s your number?”

Luke recites his digits, and I send him the picture.

Luke’s lips touch my ear, and a shiver rushes through me before he even speaks. “You know you’re fucking beautiful, right?”

A smile tugs at my lips as he slips one hand under my shirt and curves the other around my upper thigh. Internally, I curse myself for wearing jeans. If I were in a skirt, he could be hitting a really sweet spot right now.

Now that I’ve confirmed there’s a mutual attraction, I turn my head and catch his eyes. “If you think I’m beautiful now, you should see me naked in your bed.”

“When?” he asks, seemingly unfazed by my bold comment. But I’m sitting on his lap, so it’s easy to tell it affects him.

“Tonight.”

“What are we still doing here, then?” Luke tightens his arms around my waist, hugging me to his chest. He nuzzles his face into my neck and kisses me softly.

My eyelids flutter as I enjoy his warm lips against my skin.

He slides his hand from my thigh and slips it under my shirt, thumb skimming the bare skin just below my bra.

“Well, well! Look at you two getting cozy,” Kristen teases. When I look up, she’s capturing the moment with a flash.

“I can’t wait to get you to my condo so I can push your face down into my pillow, lift your hips, and fuck you from behind,” Luke whispers in my ear. “Would you like that?”

“Totally,” I say, embracing the vibe of the club as my heartbeat races in anticipation.

“I need to eat,” Pavel announces.

“Must feed the Russian bear,” Kristen says in a robotic accent that sounds more French than Slavic.

“ Bears ,” Aleksandr echoes. “I’m starving, too.”

I expect Luke to pat or prod me to get up and follow his friends up the stairs, but he doesn’t. He squeezes me closer and kisses my temple.

“I am not hungry for food right now. Wanna skip dinner and head straight to my place?” he asks.

A tingle courses through my body. Suddenly, his touch is more intense than before. I’m sleeping with Luke tonight, there’s no doubt about it. But I really like hanging out with everyone else, too, so I don’t want to walk away from my new friends.

“Ditching would be rude.”

“Tease,” he says with a sly smile.

“Anticipation, baby.” I jump to my feet, then offer Luke my hand to help him up. I know he doesn’t need it; I just like touching him. My stomach flutters every time we make contact.

We trudge single file back up the dark staircase. Thankfully, it brings us out near an exit, so we filter straight out onto the sidewalk.

“Basil?” Kristen asks, stopping in front of a restaurant on the corner of Fifth and Church Streets. “Is everyone cool with Thai?”