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Mia laughed and wobbled, too. Mid-spin, she spotted Quinn at the microphone. Above his band was a sign with their name on it, The Queue. He was right to be confident; they were good, even if they didn’t play line-dancing songs, or maybe especially because they didn’t play line-dancing songs.
“Mia,” Jake said.
Mia turned in the crowd and spotted him, with Willow. “Hey, guys.” Willow waved like they were besties. She wasn’t so far gone that she bought it.
Jake turned her toward him for a fast-beat shake-it-out dance. Good old Jake, at least you know what you get with him. The music slowed into a ballad, and Jake drew her close, hands at her waist. Hers went around his neck. Jake was familiar.
The music switched to deejay and another ballad while the band took a break.
Quinn tapped Jake on the shoulder. “I’m cutting in.”
Jake stiffened then released Mia, and she found herself in Quinn’s arms. She patted his shoulders. Quinn was tall, like Alexi. Not as tall. And no accent. She rubbed her fingers at one of the purple streaks in his hair then looked at her fingertips. Nope, it didn’t rub off. Hope would find him interesting. So much color. “You named your band Queue—clever.”
Quinn slid his glow stick bracelet off and snapped it in half. Using one of the broken ends, he traced the letter ‘Q’ onto the inside of her wrist, then tossed the bracelet aside. Mia lifted her wrist. Cool, it glowed. “Your band is very good,” she said slowly. It’d be nice to pick up a musical instrument. She didn’t have any talent in that direction, but maybe if she practiced enough, she could play something. How long had it taken Quinn to learn the guitar? “How long did—”
Quinn’s mouth landed on hers. The kiss was warm and smooth. Quinn had had practice—not mind-blowing, but not bad.
A hand on her arm tugged her away. She looked up into Alexi’s lying blue-gray eyes—pissed-off blue-gray eyes—beautiful blue-gray eyes.
Chapter 22
Alexi. Here. Mia’s heart rate sped up.
“Hope asked me to pick you up.” Alexi’s accent was heavy.
Mia shook her head. “I told her I’m staying at Lauren’s.” She was pleased to note there was minimal slur in her words.
“If she wants to go home,” Quinn said, “I can take her.”
Alexi’s fist clenched and his stance widened. “Our driver’s here. She doesn’t need you to take her anywhere. Do you want to worry Hope?” He had switched to half Greek, half English now. “She’s very concerned you’re breaking the rules.”
She didn’t want to worry Hope, and she kind of wanted to go now anyway. Mia shook her head. She called out over her shoulder to her friends. “Jake, tell Lauren I gotta go, ‘k? Bye, Jake. Bye, Q.”
The warmth of the Houston night felt cool after the heat of the club. Mia walked slowly toward the car, enjoying the feeling. She held out her arms and walked carefully, very glad she’d stopped drinking or the world would be spinning. The letter on her arm glowed in the night. She smiled. Glow-in-the-dark stuff was cool.
Alexi opened the door, waited for Mia to enter the limo, then climbed in after her. His posture was stiff. He flipped the intercom. “Home, please, Vincent.”
Mia dove for the minibar and grabbed bottled water. She sat back with it. Thank God she no longer felt like crying. After a brief struggle with the plastic cap, she took a drink.
“What’s that?” Alexi stared at her arm. His eyes widened, and he rubbed at the Q.
She jerked her arm away. “What?”
“Are you out with him? Hope said you aren’t allowed out with Lauren, said the last time you went out with her, you came home drunk at five in the morning. Are you drunk?”
“That was last year. No, I’m not drunk. And what, like you never drink?” Mia scooted back in the cushy seat. It was nice to sit. “You drink like all the time. Everywhere we go and at dinner.”
“You didn’t answer my calls. I had to come in and get you like a child.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m fine.”
“You put a Q on your arm.”
“Quinn did.”
Alexi frowned.
“It’s the name of his band.”
