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“They do stupid shit and try to get themselves killed. If they saw half the shit I see, they wouldn’t be such dumbasses.”
“You can take the orthopedist out of the OR, but you can’t take the memories out of the orthopedist,” Harrison says, sounding a bit like a broken record. “If he’d just dedicated his life to improving women’s breasts, he would’ve gone heliskiing. If you ever go on a road trip with him, word of caution, don’t let him drive.”
“You’re so full of it,” Ian says, agitated. “I simply don’t want a speeding ticket.”
“Well, there’s no risk of you getting one,” he counters.
The car pulls up in front of a concert building decked out in neon blue lights. Similar sparkling blue lights wrap around the palm trees on the street and throngs of partygoers stand in line.
“Is that where we’re going?” I ask as the three of us climb out of the back seat.
“No. That’s Cleo. You come back another time, and I’ll take you there. It’ll be a madhouse tonight. It’s got dozens of rooms with different tempos and a rooftop pool. It can get crazy. We’re going to a more subdued location,” Ian says.
“Well, to start out the night, we’re going to a more subdued location. Late night, we might end up at Cleo,” Harrison counters.
Ian’s hand presses against my lower back. The warmth of his breath tickles my ear as he says, “We’ll head back to the apartment when you’re ready. Harrison will be perfectly fine on his own.”
“Thank god we’re not planning on standing in that line,” I say, leaning into him so only he hears me. The line extends down the block and wraps around the building.
“I’d never do that to you,” Ian assures me.
We cross the street and approach a bouncer standing guard outside two black doors, below a sign that simply reads “Jack’s Lounge.”
Ian hands over three tickets, and the bouncer opens the door for us. No line, no worries.
Inside, tables and booths fill the center room, and a small stage with a piano occupies the back of the room. A man in a black top hat plays the piano, while a woman in a sparkly dress stands on stage, singing a low-key jazz tune. A long bar extends along the far wall. Ian guides me to a booth that has a reserved placard.
“Does this work?” Ian asks.
“It’s perfect,” I tell him. And it is. Standing all night in heels doesn’t appeal to me anymore, and I absolutely love live music.
“I’m glad you came.” Ian leans in close enough I get another whiff of his musky scent, and my heartrate rachets up a notch. Silly, really. But I suppose I don’t spend a lot of time around men as good looking as Ian.
“Me too,” I say, smiling at my old friend.
All the Duke brothers are handsome and have always been the talk of our small town, but Ian has always been the brother with the most penetrating, thoughtful gaze, the kind of gaze that tingles and raises all kinds of insecurities. I run my tongue over the front of my teeth as a precaution, although I haven’t eaten since I brushed them before rushing to my car.
“Okay. You two are clearly together. I’m gonna go circle the bar,” Harrison says as he raps the table with his knuckle and slides out of the booth.
“We’re not—” I protest, but Harrison disperses into the crowd.
Ian stretches his arm across the back of the booth and gives a slight shake of his head.
“Ignore him. He’ll find someone soon, and we won’t see him again. That’s another reason I’m glad you made it out.”
I narrow my eyes, judging his veracity. Ian wouldn’t have trouble meeting up with someone either, but he’s probably too nice of a guy to try for a hook-up when he’s playing host to an out-of-town guest. “I hope I’m not messing up your routine.”
“Routine? You think this is my normal?”
“Isn’t it? Your apartment is…” I search for the right words to describe his voguish bachelor pad without being insulting.
“What’s wrong with my place?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just…it’s actually…it’s very male.”
“Male?” He smirks, and I shift in the booth, angling my body in his direction.
“I mean, it’s glam but masculine. All the dark wood. Your kitchen cabinets are extremely modern, no hardware, just oak wood panels with stainless steel appliances, and it’s–”
