Page 91 of Animal Beats

“Awesome, dude.” The bouncer hands me his cell, and I snap the two of us together. “Appreciate it. Have a good night.”

A young woman appears at the doorway and escorts Hayden and me up to a second level of the club, complete with a couple of bars, a dance floor, and a viewing area of the floor below. Sweet. I turn to Hayden. “What’ll it be?”

Her lips purse. “My favorite drink is an Aperol Spritz.”

“You got it.” I direct her into a quiet corner, and go to the bar. Shortly, I return to her. “One Aperol Spritz for the lady.”

She grins. “Thanks.”

Holding my own favorite drink, I say, “A toast. To new beginnings, whatever they may be.”

“Before my carriage becomes a pumpkin.”

“Don’t think like that. We’re going to figure this out. I promise.” Our toast is sealed with a kiss.

We spend the next several hours dancing and drinking and laughing and kissing. She finishes her fourth drink, and holds up the empty glass.

“Good job, Babysitter. Let me get you a refill.”

“I would love that,” she slurs.

Keeping my smile out of her line of vision, I return to the VIP bar and place her order. Me? I’m nursing my second Gold Rush. Need to keep my wits about me, as Hayden deserves this time off. I’m bouncing to the killer beat when I spy some asshole trying to make nice with my girl.

The moment her Aperol Spritz is in my hand, I make a beeline for Hayden. The asshole stands to her left, leaning in and talking with her. “The lady isn’t interested in whatever you’re trying to sell.” I wait a beat. “Dude.”

Hayden’s glassy blue eyes warm when she sees me. Yup. Well on her way to three sheets. Before we can return to the dance floor, though, I have an interloper to get rid of.

The guy, about my height, wraps an arm around Hayden. “Dude. She and I are rapping. Having a good time.”

The last thing Hayden needs is for me to cause a scene and toss this jerk over my shoulder. I decide to man up, for her sake. “Yeah? Well, she’s my girlfriend, so why don’t you find someone else to bother?”

When I say “girlfriend,” I hear an audible gasp from my beautiful strawberry blonde.

“Is he telling the truth, sweetheart? I can get rid of him if he’s lying.”

For the first time, Hayden speaks. “Girlfriend.” The slight uptick of her voice at the end of the word I’ve never used with anyone before goes unnoticed by the guy standing next to her. Not by me.

“Well, damn.” He stretches out his hand. “No hard feelings.”

I could crush his hand in the handshake. Bellow to the rafters he was hitting on MY woman. Push him over the railing into the dance floor below. Being with Hayden, though, pushes me to do better. I’m making tonight fly under the radar, for her sake.

“You didn’t know.” We shake.

Then he does a double take. “Wait. You’re Río Sullivan, the drummer for UC, aren’t you?”

“I won’t tell anyone you were hitting on my girlfriend, if you don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

“Dude! I love your stuff. It’s an honor. Not the hitting on your girlfriend part”—he barely spares a glance for Hayden—“but meeting you. I won’t let my friends know you’re here, I promise.”

“Sounds good.”

He grabs his phone and we take a selfie. “I’m honored. Really.”

Time to get this guy on the road. I give him the thumbs up and turn to Hayden, who’s staring at the bottom of her empty glass. Putting my arm around her, I bring her close. “I think you’ve killed that soldier.”

She frowns. “I have.” The glass flips upside down.

“You know what that means, don’t you?”