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1
Pru
It really was him.
Ezra St. Croix. The lead singer of Luci in Furs was sitting in the VIP section of The Deacon.
He was even sexier in person.
I’d seen him in concert once, but that was before the band had gone on hiatus years ago. How could he look younger than he had way back then?
That didn’t matter. I needed to get closer to him. Talk to him.
I glanced left, then right. No one gave me a second look as I picked up a tray filled with drinks from the bar. I could pass for a waitress as long as I acted the part. He didn’t have security hovering around. The Deacon was exclusive enough that he likely felt safe here without the extra bodies.
I held the drinks above my head as my hips weaved through the dance floor. Adrenaline and the bass from the DJ booth pounded against my eardrums. My friends had ditched me at the door and were grinding on the dudes they’d met at the bar. Neither of them bothered to glance at me as I passed them. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the crowd.
Fuck, he was gorgeous. His black hair was all slicked back except for a few rebellious locks that dangled over his brow and tipped at the top of his cheekbones to frame his crystalline eyes. Smudges of black and red liner around each eye made it impossible to ignore where his irises were wandering. Tattoos crept up his neck and down his exposed arms. I wanted to memorize every single dot of ink with my tongue. I’d read in gossip magazines that he had more than just his nipples pierced, and I wanted to find out for myself. The thought made my mouth water.
Get it together, Pru.
I squared my shoulders and strode over to him, the tray presented to him just below my chest. He smiled up at me.
My insides went to goo.
“Thank you, lovely,” he said with a wink. He took one of the shot glasses full of amber liquid from the tray.
I did my best to distribute the weight change in my palm. I’d never forgive myself if I spilled four glasses of booze in his lap.
“Are you new?” he asked, eyeing me. “My brother rarely hires . . . women.”
I had no time to dwell on that sexist policy. “I’m just covering a shift for the night.”
A lie.
A small one, but by the time he figured it out, we would surely be in love and ready to skip off to Europe for a vacation in Venice.
He knocked back the shot, placed the empty glass on my tray, and lounged back against the large, scooped chair. I glanced around, but he seemed to be alone, or maybe he was waiting for someone.
“You’re cute,” he said, sending a gush of excitement into my belly. “Don’t get mixed up with any of these losers here. I would hate to see them fuck you over.”
Was that an opening?
“Maybe I should hang out with you, then?”
His whole face brightened. The curl of his lips made my knees weak. I hadn’t entered the club with this much audacity, but I was lucky it had found me.
He stood up, and I took a deep breath as his tall, lean torso ate up my vision. The music and other bodies around us disappeared as he leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I think I’d really enjoy your company. But out of everyone in this club, I would be, by far, the worst thing to ever happen to you.”
His lips brushed over my cheek as he started to pull away.
In a moment of sheer, bold will—or panic—I grabbed him before he could take a step. His gaze snapped down to where my fingers circled his wrist then slowly crept up to my face, leaving a ripple of goose bumps over my skin.
“I’d risk it,” I said.
There was a full shift in his mood. The moment my fingers made contact with him, he’d gone from playfully amused to bewildered. But now, there was something new there. A challenge. Or maybe curiosity. Either way, the heat from his gaze hollowed out my stomach.
He didn’t speak, just took the tray from my hand and set it on the chair he’d been sitting on. Then, he led me to the back of the club. It was darker and less crowded, but the moment I started to worry about being seen making out with a celebrity, he pressed his palm to the wall and pushed. As if magically, a perfect rectangular cutout in the wall popped open. We slipped inside, the crease in the wall just large enough for us to pass through, before he pulled it closed behind him.
