AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are you okay?”
Shoulders quaking with a shiver, hazy blue eyes slowly climb upward. Pale brows furrow as though she’s just realizing I’m here. Full lips painted a glossy pink part, slurred words leaving them in an incoherent gargle.
With my umpteenth sigh of the evening, I turn back to the bar. Wouldn’t you know, now that I have a pretty girl by my side, the bartender is quick to appear, ready to take my order with a sleazy smile on his thin lips.
I side-step, blocking her from view. “Can I get some water, please?”
Exchanging a couple of bills for a bottle, I’m checking it’s sealed when the warm skin beneath my fingertips suddenly disappears. I glance up just in time to watch Blondie slip my grasp and stumble away, oddly elegant in her inebriated state.
I’m not the only one who notices her graceful yet wobbly strides; it’s like a hundred gazes swing her way as she ambles through the club. For once in her presence, my brain stops malfunctioning long enough for me to shove through the crowd after her.
* * *
Blonde doesn’t notice me looming at her back like a protective shadow as she makes a break for the bathroom—her slightly green sickly pallor gives her away before her wandering feet do.
I don’t touch her. I’m just… there. Hovering. A couple of inches between us. Enough to give her space.
Not enough to give any of the leering creeps the impression we’re not together.
I wonder, briefly, if they’d still be leering if they too watched her drop to her knees and empty her guts into a toilet.
Honestly, probably.
Awkwardly crouching in the sliver of space between her and the cubicle wall, my fingers skim the nape of her neck as they clumsily twist long, wavy locks into a makeshift ponytail. God, I never thought I’d be grateful for Lux’s more rebellious years; they may have been hell on my blood pressure but at least they taught me how to take care of a drunk girl.
“You okay?” My question is drowned out by the sound of retching, followed by a defeated groan as the girl sits back on her heels. When another shiver wracks her lithe body, I wriggle out of the corduroy shirt I’m wearing over my tee and drape it over her shoulders.
Her very bare shoulders.
To go with her very bare body, if I was noticing things like that.
I’m not, though.
A weak smile and quiet thanks draws my attention away from miles of smooth skin. I watch like a damn lovestruck fool as she slips her arms through the sleeves of my shirt, hugs the soft fabric close to her with a small, happy inhale that, God, I don’t know what to do with.
Clearing my throat, I crack open the water bottle and hold it out to her, desperate to prove I’m not a creep despite very much feeling like one. Only a moment of cautious eagle-eyeing passes before she sighs and takes it, sucking down the contents so greedily, she sloshes water all over her chin and her chest andGod help me. “If this is roofied, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
My chuckle surprises me, how casually it comes out. “I don’t doubt that.”
Those diamond encrusted death-trap stilettos could take a man down, easy, if wielded the right way.
A satisfied, agreeing hum leaves her as she suddenly shifts, two palms molding to my shoulders as she hoists herself to her bejeweled feet.
I don’t move a muscle. I don’t think I breathe for the impossibly long minute it takes her to right herself, nor the following thirty seconds where she simply… stands. Stares. Smiles.
Winks.
And honest to God purrs, “Thanks, handsome.”
Death by half-hearted, joking compliment.
That’s how I’m gonna go.
Huh.
I don’t get the chance to even attempt a response; she pats me on the shoulder and teeters away before my tongue can untie itself. Slender fingers topped with long, bright pink nails clasp the ceramic edge of the sink, narrowed eyes peering into the cloudy mirror above it. Downturned lips part with a displeased puff of air. “Jesus Christ, Luna.”
Ordinarily, I would revel in the sudden discovery of her name. I would think, God, how fitting she’s named after a goddess.
