I haven’t been to a club in nearly a year. I was busy finishing school, working, and playing my music anywhere I could.
Now I’m realizing why I haven’t missed this scene. It seems that I’ve outgrown it.
Regardless, we’re here, and I want to do what I can to make sure Nova has a good time—which means, not letting on that I’m just as miserable.
We reach the bar, and I guide her to the lone empty stool. I motion to the bartender that we want to order and then wait for him to have time.
Which might be never, since everyone is clamoring for a drink.
Nova huffs out a breath and her hair swirls around her face.
“Hi,” the guy beside her says, leering at her.
I lean around her and give him my best glare. “Goodbye.”
“Sorry, didn’t know she was taken.” He raises his hands in defense.
Nova lets out a soft laugh. In fact, I can’t even hear it, but the shaking of her shoulders gives her away.
The bartender finally makes it over to us and I shout my order. He returns with two beers and plops them down, some of the liquid sloshing out and onto the counter.
I hand him cash. “Keep the change.”
Nova sips at her beer, looking more miserable by the second.
Fuck this.
I down my beer and let her finish half of hers.
“Come on.” I tug her off the stool.
“Wha—?” She gets out as I drag her onto the dance floor.
Dancing with Nova is probably a very bad, bad idea, but bad ideas are usually the most fun.
The music changes and the song oozes sex.
I don’t allow myself to care.
Nova looks up at me with wide, shocked eyes, picking up on the tone of the song.
I lower my head so my lips graze her ear when I speak. “Dance with me.”
It’s not a question, or even a command, simply a statement.
She’s dancing with me.
She shivers as I draw away.
I lead her into the thick of the people and then wrap her arms around my neck, my hands fall to her waist, my fingers grazing her ass.
She has a nice ass. Fucking sue me.
She looks up at me nervously, and I can tell she’s out of her element.
But that’s okay, because I can lead.
And leading is what I do best.