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The club is throbbing, the music pulsing through my shoes.
“You could’ve warned me you were going to do this!” Brooke hollers, wrapping both arms around me.
“Got to keep some surprises in life,” I call back as I toss my head back and forth.
Earlier today, I got in a hair appointment to have my faded blonde dyed neon pink.
It gave me renewed optimism and energy, even before Brooke and I wound up three drinks in at the club.
At the DJ booth, Little Queen spins.
My art forms the backdrop: three abstract panels with swirling gold florals. It felt liberating to create them, and I’m so proud of myself for doing it.
Now, she flips both middle fingers toward one of the VIP booths. Some businessmen in dark suits fill the booth, one standing head and shoulders above the rest.
Brooke laughs. “Is that Harrison King? I thought they were married.”
He lifts a glass in her direction, and she stares him down.
“They are,” I say biting my cheek.
“Yum. I always wondered how married couples keep it fresh.”
I remember hearing in the media that between his family and business and her past, they had some pretty heavy stuff going on.
It doesn’t look heavy from here.
Brooke sways along with me. She’s dressed in a short black jumper and sky-high heels. Her eyes sparkle. Her maroon lipstick and the braids swinging down her back give her a chic vamp vibe.
I lift the camera and tilt it down toward me, adjusting my silver halter top to push my boobs up and together for maximum cleavage and fluffing my newly-dyed hair.
Click.
“You’re hot. There are any number of guys who would love to hook up with you,” Brooke points out. “You’ve been on a break so long. Don’t you think you should stop waiting?”
I glance down at my phone.
Nova: Saw you playing ball at Kodiak Camp. How’d it feel?
Grumpy Baller: Like I’m rusty as hell :)
We’ve been texting the past week since I got back from LA.
It feels good to talk to him. Right, even, as if my world was never fully on its axis when we weren’t updating each other on our days and teasing back and forth.
Brooke lifts the phone from my fingers and I grab for it, but she holds it away. “What’s the problem?” she shouts over the music.
I huff out a breath. “The problem is I’m still in it with him,” I holler back.
Since the other day, all I can think about is Clay. He’s still the only person I want to share every high with, every low. The one whose smile I miss at the end of a long day.
I’ve watched the video of him playing at Kodiak Camp a dozen times. My reaction is more than the teasing I’ve shared with Clay.
Arousal wraps around me like a silken rope twisting me in its grasp.
He looks good, and I know exactly how good it feels to have every inch of that body on mine.
Brooke holds out my phone with a half smile. “Then why’re you here with me? A girl’s got to get hers somewhere.”
