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36
Gigi
Aside from the fact my love life had broken into a million pieces, dancing and drinking with my girls was turning out to be a whole lot of fun. We’d gone out before, but it was always fairly low key. Even for Vegas.
Tonight, we were bar-hopping our asses off. Everyone was doing their level best to keep my mind off of my very public catastrophe.
Right now, Jillian was shaking her stuff with me to a much-loved song. We were at the giggly-drunk stage, well on our way to sloppy-drunk. Everything was funny. Life didn’t exist beyond this dance floor.
It was just me and the music, moving to the beat, letting my worries flow out of my pores. The flashing lights made it look like we were moving in slow motion and it made Jillian and I laugh even more. A good-looking guy joined us. First, he talked to Jillian, then she yelled in my ear, “He asked me if you were taken.”
For some reason, we both cracked up. “I’m going to get another drink. Are you okay out here with him?” she asked, nodding her head toward the sandy-haired man who’d asked about me.
“I’m good. Grab me another drink too, please?”
She nodded, leaving me and my new friend to dance. He said something, but I couldn’t hear him because of the music. Sidling up to me, he set his hands on my waist and asked, “Do you come here often?”
For some reason, that tickled my funny bone something fierce. I laughed so hard, he pulled me into his body. “Who even says that anymore? Isn’t there a law about using that line?” I asked into his ear—which somehow got very close.
“But it made you laugh,” he said, his gaze dropping to my breasts and lingering there. It didn’t cause the tingles it did when Beau—darn it, I wasn’t supposed to think about him.
I put my hands on his shoulders, and we danced closely for a while. He was funny and entertaining. Everything I needed. You’d think. But my mind kept going back to a certain hockey player who’d just skated all over my heart.
“Hands off my girl, man,” I heard a voice I’d know anywhere.
My eyes widened as I twisted my head around to see Beau standing directly behind me. Instead of freaking out, I found my backbone. “I’m busy, Beau. Go find someone else to bother!” I shouted at him. “We have a real love connection happening here and you’re ruining it!”
His eyes flared then narrowed on me. “Enough, Geneviève! You’ve made your point. Now stop acting like a—”
We never got to hear what he was going to say next, because my new friend wound up and hit Beau square on the jaw. Beau wasn’t expecting it, and his head wrenched to the side in an unnatural bend.
“Motherfucker, you did not just hit me, you asshole!” Beau yelled, touching his mouth, then looking at his fingers.
My new friend grabbed a hold of my upper arm, yanking me to him. “The lady said she was busy. You’re not wanted here,” he spat out at Beau as his fingers dug painfully into my arm.
Beau stepped forward. “I asked you nicely to get your fucking hands off my woman. Now!” he barked, scaring even me. I gasped, then tried to shake my arm out of this guy’s grasp. He had too good of a grip on me, so I used an evasive maneuver I’d learned in self defense class a few years ago.
It worked perfectly, causing him to let go. Then I hustled off the dance floor, unsure of whom I was trying to get away from the most.
I found the sign to the women’s restroom and decided that was my safest route. As I dashed inside, I felt a sense of relief to have gotten away. While I leaned my back against the wall, I inhaled slowly and deeply, trying to calm my crazy heartbeat.
“You okay?” a girl my age asked as she washed her hands and dried them.
“I will be, thanks for asking. Just need a minute to clear my head,” I said, smiling at her kindness.
She nodded, then picked up her purse. “Happens to us all at one time or another. Take care,” she said, giving me a little wave.
After she left, I couldn’t hear anymore footsteps or movement around me. I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the quiet. The only problem with that was the room immediately started spinning. I was still plenty buzzed.
The door burst open, scaring me half to death. “Jesus, woman. You are going to be the death of me,” Beau said. His eyes looked me over, then he peered around the rest of the bathroom. He pointed his finger at me and said, “Don’t fucking move.”
I heard the stall doors slam open as he walked around the corner. In no time, he stomped back to the main door and kicked the door stop underneath so hard, I shrieked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
He turned to me like a lion stalking his prey. “I told you not to fucking—move.”
“And I asked you a question,” I said, gathering my hair behind me and holding it off my neck for a minute. I really needed a glass of water or something to cool me off. My attention shot to the door. Making a break for it wasn’t going to happen.
Beau had jammed the crap out of the wooden doorstop. And I sure wasn’t going to ruin these shoes attempting to kick it out.
