I Have to Have Her

She nodded, opened her mouth, closed it, and left the bedroom.

The door remained open. Rather than see his sister like this, he took a shower. He’d lost his freaking mind and he needed to start getting back his composure or he was going to end up so fucked.

****

Three days had passed since Gabriel had pulled her into his bedroom and took what he wanted. Claire knew she should have been pissed at him and called this whole thing off, but she’d enjoyed it. Not that it was any excuse. He hadn’t hurt her. She hadn’t even asked him to stop.

“You look so gorgeous,” Rhianna said as the car pulled up outside of a nightclub. Her best friend had demanded a girls’ night, complete with dancing, men, and a chance to just forget about the guy she’d met on her charity event. Claire didn’t even know his name. Rhianna wanted to keep some things a secret. She didn’t mind. When they were younger, Rhianna often went off with guys and never told her about them.

Their friendship was stronger than boys, men, and all the secrets.

She’d gone back to the apartment after another useless attempt to find herself a place only to see a white dress and heels waiting for her. Rhianna had already been getting ready. She loved her friend but guilt churned in the pit of her stomach.

Her … arrangement with Gabriel clouded her decision to do anything, but Rhianna had said it was time for them both to meet men.

“Look at the line. I don’t think we should go here,” she said.

“Don’t worry. This is Gabriel’s club. I come here all the time.” Rhianna was out of the car and dragging her along with her.

The men opened up the doors and music surrounded her. The beat and pulse of the noise didn’t help to calm her nerves. In fact, it made her feel more nervous.

“I love this,” Rhianna said.

Claire wondered if Gabriel liked his sister coming to any of his clubs. Did Rhianna know about the secret strip club? Either way, Claire’s lips were sealed. Even with all the secrecy around the job, she actually liked it. The heels were a nightmare but she got paid good money and she felt safe. There were some jobs where she hadn’t felt safe at all.

“Let’s go to the bar,” she said, yelling to be heard over the noise.

“Not happening. Let’s dance. Come on. We’ve got to find ourselves some good-looking men.” Rhianna screamed each word for her to hear.

Dragging her onto the dance floor, Rhianna let out a hoot and laughed along with her, Claire started to dance. There was no rule from Gabriel about her not having fun. It didn’t take long for someone to wrap an arm around Rhianna.

Claire felt a body behind her. It wasn’t Gabriel, but rather than judge, she just danced anyway, allowing herself to be taken by the fun and heat of the night.

She spun around, wrapping an arm around his neck, dancing. Whenever he got too close with his body, she made sure there was more distance.

There was no invitation here. When he didn’t seem to be getting the idea that it was just dancing, she pulled away, and the man let her go, moving on to other women. She stumbled toward the bar, ordering herself some water.

Rhianna was hurting and Claire had a feeling the guy at the charity event was a lot more than just an acquaintance.

She thanked the bartender and sipped at her water, watching her friend.

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing all alone here?”

She turned to see a man with short, black hair and a smile, clearly sexy, dressed in jeans and a white shirt.

“Is that the standard pickup line?” Near the bar, the noise wasn’t so consuming. People could talk without shouting. It was nice.

“It usually works. Have you heard it before?”

She laughed. “Not in a long time.”

“So you should be impressed.”

“Being picked up in a bar isn’t impressive. Now over coffee, that’s something different.” Realizing what she’d just said, heat filled her cheeks. “I’m not telling you to ask me out for coffee or anything.”

“You’re charming. Has anyone ever told you that?”

She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not recently.” She wasn’t about to tell him her ex referred to her as a weirdo.

“I’m Lucas.” He held his hand out.

She shook his hand.

His grip was firm. He didn’t let go of her hand as he drew it to his lips, kissing her.

“And you’re a charmer.”

“I like to think of myself as old-fashioned.”

“Right,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m just me.”

“Hello, Just Me.”

“Stop it.” She waved her hand in front of her. “You’re flirting, stop.”

“I don’t see a ring on your finger and any guy who lets you out on your own, well, that’s their loss and I have to say they don’t deserve you.”