“I’ve waited this long, haven’t I?” Her smile is small when she looks back out at the club, letting me know she’s not expecting a response. Following her gaze, I watch the sea of people below.
The dance floor is packed with what has to be at least two-hundred people enjoying the music and dancing their stress away. Parq East is all the rage right now, and anyone who is anyone is vying to get a spot on the list.
My eyes trail back to her, taking in how she watches the crowd with a longing stare. I swallow thickly. “Do you want to dance?”
“With you, or in general?”
Bringing her hand up to my mouth, I kiss the back of it. “With me.”
“You don’t dance, Luciano. Really want to make the same mistake twice?”
“Nothing about you is a mistake, Raina.”
Her spine straightens, and she stands tall, staring at me. A response is on the tip of her tongue. I can see the words written all over her face, but instead of replying, she walks away, back to where everyone is still crowded around the platter of cookies. A few of our friends are holding them, and there’s plenty of laughter coming from their direction.
“C’mon, let's go downstairs,” Raina says to Vinnie and Cecilia as I approach, grabbing onto both of their wrists.
“Oh, no you don't,” Sly intervenes, pulling my sister back onto his lap. “There are far too many people down there.”
“You guys go have fun!” Vinnie insists, locking eyes with her best friend.
“You’re right,” Raina relents without much of a fight at all, releasing her wrist—she knows it wouldn’t be safe for Vinnie, not when someone could easily elbow her in the stomach.
“Come on, then.” Cecilia loops her arm through Raina’s. “I love this song.”
“Can we go down, too?” Nixon’s date whines, tugging him up from his seat.
“I guess so,” Nixon complains, standing, and although quiet, I hear Enzo huff through his chest.
That guy is a miserable prick.
Moments later, half our group disappears downstairs, and I’m left to my own devices for a second while everyone is engaged in other conversations.
Wandering over to the bar, I order myself another scotch—a double this time—and wonder how the hell I’m going to get through the next couple hours, when all I want to do is toss Raina over my shoulder and take her home.
“And now, on behalf of Parq East and some dude named Sully Rochester, I’d like for the whole club to join me in a quick “Happy Birthday” song!”
I groan as the deejay makes his announcement over the speaker system. “You did not.” My eyes narrow on Sully.
“Oh, Isodid.” He smiles back at me, tosses me a wink, and starts with the rest of the club as they erupt into song.
Leaning over the edge of the railing with another drink in hand, I stare in complete mortification at everyone singing blindly, until the spotlight finally finds me and basks me in its bright glow. From down by the lower bar, Raina looks up and tips her drink in my direction.
All eyes are now on me and I try to appear as though I am at least a little grateful.
I’m still going to kill him,I think to myself and glance over at Sully, who’s standing beside me, waving his arms like he’s a damn orchestra conductor.
The moment everyone finishes singing, the deejay transitions to “In Da Club” by 50 Cent, and as quickly as the attention was centered on me, it shifts away.
Thank God.
Walking up behind me, Nixon claps my shoulder. “Come on, Paladino, some part of you enjoyed that.”
“I’m not a glutton for punishment.”
“Oh, come on,” Sully interjects. “That wasn’t punishment! It was good old-fashioned fun. Maybe if you had a little more of it, you wouldn’t look like there’s a giant stick wedged up your ass right now.”
“What’s going on with you and Raina?” Nixon changes the subject, draping his hands over the edge of the rail. “You haven’t taken your eyes off of her all night.”
