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Ilaugh, but his words jerk at something barbed in my chest.Becausehe’s right.Notabout being better looking—that’s a fucking lie.Butabout him being the oneShaewould go for.
Iknow it all too well.It’sanother reminder to me to keep any thoughtsIhave about her safely on the platonic side, whereI’vemanaged to lock them up for years.
Idrain the rest of my beer, then look for her, to make sure she’s okay the wayIpromisedIwould.She’sdancing with the others on the dance floor, butIdon’t let my gaze linger.Irefuse to get distracted by the sinuous way she’s moving her body.
She’shaving fun.Imight as well have some fun too.
Ican’t take someone back with me tonight, but withShaestaying with us for two months,I’llhave to do something to get thoughts of her out of my head.
Andsoon.
ChapterNine
Shae
Thethumping musicfrom theDJvibrates the bones in my inner ears.Whydoes it have to be so loud?Surely, people don’t need to have their eardrums busted in order to dance.Ifeel sorry for the people in the surrounding hotels, or even the rooms below us.Althoughmaybe hotels of this quality have amazing sound insulation.
ThenIcatch sight of a man at the bar just down from me leaning close to talk into a woman’s ear, his hand brushing along her upper arm.Ismile.Maybethere are some benefits to not being able to hear each other talk.
Iobserve the interaction for a moment, my chest squeezing asIwatch the flirtation taking place.Asurge of loneliness fills me.Whichis stupid becauseI’mhere with a friendly group of women, not to mentionDevonandBeau.
Except…Iturn my focus back to my two best friends and the women that have flocked to them.Ihaven’t exactly spent a lot of time with them tonight.It’sbeen fun dancing withLexie,Eden,Summer, andCassie.ButIthoughtI’dspend most of the evening with the guys.
It’sthe constant stream of women stopping to flirt and to take their shot the way the first woman did that keeps me away.
Andthat’s all on me.WhenIhave gone over,DevonandBeauhave been more than happy to pull me into their conversations.Butthe way my stomach dipped every time another gorgeous woman pushed her way past me got to be a bit too much.
Thelast timeIleft the group,Devoncaught my eye and gave me a frown of concern.ButIdon’t want to get in the way of his good time.Andconsidering there was another beautiful woman wrapped around him at that moment,Idid my best to smile so he’d knowIwas okay.ThenIleft to get another drink from the bar.
Whichis whereI’vebeen for the last five minutes, waiting my turn.Oneof the bartenders finally notices me and gives me a smile. “Sorry, gorgeous.It’scrazy in here tonight.”
He’snot wrong.Theplace is awash with people, andI’veseen so many celebrities thatIthinkI’vefinally passed the point of being starstruck.Thereare plenty of non-famous people here too—althoughIimagine that, like me, they must have important connections to have scored an invite to the event.Butmost are just as drunk and unruly as many of the customers at the barIused to manage.
Drunkpeople are drunk people everywhere.Regardlessof wealth or status.
I’vebeen sipping wine for the last few hours, butIthinkImight need something a bit stronger to get through the rest of the night.It’sbeen a long time sinceI’vereally let go.Phillipdidn’t like to go out to places like this, and on the odd occasion when we did,Istayed sober and stuck close to his side so he wouldn’t thinkIwas flirting if a man spoke to me.Buttonight, withDevonandBeauhere, plusCrossfireandFractured’ssecurity detail hovering nearby,Ifigure it’s safe enough to throw caution to the wind.
So,Iorder a tequila sunrise.Thebartender gives me a wink, then sets about making my drink.
WhileIwait,Ilook out over theLAskyline and smile to myself.IdoubtIcould ever get used to this lifestyle, but visiting isn’t bad.
I’vejust taken the first sip of my drink when a good-looking dark-haired man appears at my side, his lips tipping up at the corners as he gives me a thorough once-over.
Ireturn his smile with a tentative one of my own.Ihaven’t been on a date sincePhillip.Infact,I’vebarely gone out, soI’mout of practice when it comes to flirting.Nowmight be the perfect time to polish my rusty skills.
Hetells me his name isDavid, and it turns out he’s in a band too—one signed to a different label thanCrossfire, though.Hisband isn’t oneI’veheard of before, andImake sure not to mentionDevonandBeau.
AlthoughI’vebeen practicing my flirtatious small talk,Ihave no intention of going home with him, so after a few minutes,Idrain the last of the tart orange liquid in my glass and give him a smile.It’stime to let him try his luck with someone else.
BeforeIcan tell him goodbye, he grabs my hand and tugs me toward the dance floor.Iresist for a moment, but he grabs my other hand and pulls them both to his chest.
“Please,” he shouts over the music, his eyes glittering. “Justone dance, and thenI’llleave you alone.”
Irisk a quick glance over toward my group of friends, getting a little kick in the chest at the image ofDevonsmiling at yet another beautiful woman.She’sgot one arm around him and the other extended as she takes a selfie with him.
Cassieand the others are back with their men, each couple absorbed in some display of quiet intimacy.Headsbent close, lips brushing, fingertips tracing over skin.Iturn back toDavid, swallowing the loneliness rushing through me. “Okay.Onedance.ThenIhave to get back to my friends.”
Hisgrin is wide as he pulls me onto the dance floor, then through the crowd to the far side.Ilose sight ofDevonandBeau, althoughIcan still see one of their bodyguards—Matt,Ithink.
