Rush

A man moves toward her through the crowd, his eyes fixed on Dree as well, and my hands tighten on the mezzanine rail. Don’t you fucking dare.

I saw her first.

Jaw grit tight, I watch as the man waves to get her attention and says something to her. Dree gives him a polite smile and shakes her head. He tries to talk to her again, even going so far as to clamp his hand on her bare shoulder. My whole body tenses up, preparing to race down the stairs and rip him away from her. Dree shrugs him off and she grabs another woman’s hand. She and her friend move deeper into a group of women, and I can breathe again.

“I’ll go get her for you, shall I?” Eoin says, a smirk in his voice.

I’m still staring at Dree and it takes me a moment to realize that Eoin’s moved past me and is heading out of the VIP section.

Years ago, when Saint Cyprian was just getting famous, Eoin would collect groupies for us. Girls to invite into the VIP section to drink with, dance with. Sometimes sleep with. Actually, usually to sleep with. That tailed off for me a few years ago as I went clubbing less and less and found I preferred spending time with people I actually know.

I finally drag my eyes away from Dree. “Hmm? No, Eoin, don’t—”

Eoin’s already out of earshot. If I hurry I could stop him. I even take a step toward him, but then my gaze slides back to Dree. Fuck, she’s so beautiful, and she’s unprotected down there. My pulse is throbbing as I watch Eoin make his slow way across the crowded dancefloor toward her. There are too many men down there. Better that she’s up here with me than with all those sweaty bodies and grabby male hands. We can talk about music and I can find out more about her. I barely know anything about Dree North, and I want to know more. Much more. Maybe we could dance together. I imagine sliding my hands around that slender waist of hers. Just as a friend. Or a colleague or whatever. Just to feel her moving under my touch, like the other day when we were waltzing together. She moved so beautifully in my arms. Once I get her on the smaller dancefloor up here, I’ll be able to put my lips against her ear and tell her how lovely she looks over the pounding music. That’s all I want. I won’t take it any further. I definitely won’t find a dark corner of the club where I can kiss that beautiful mouth of hers and find out if she tastes like heaven. I bet she fucking does.

Eoin has reached Dree, and politely gets her attention. She meets his eyes warily, and listens as he speaks to her. Then he points at me. Frowning in puzzlement, Dree looks up. My hands are resting on the mezzanine rail, and I lift the fingers of one hand in a little wave. Then I lift my chin and nod over my shoulder. Get up here.

Her eyebrows rise. She turns back to Eoin and asks him a question. He takes his phone out, unlocks it, and passes it to her. She types something, and a moment later, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and draw it out.

Does that usually work?

I frown down at the text, and reply, Does what work?

That head nod thing. Does it have the girls running up to the VIP section?

Come join me.

I’m with my friends.

Bring them.

All twenty of us? Have a good night. See you Monday.

Dree passes the phone back to Eoin with a polite smile and a word of thanks. There’s no smile for me. She turns back to the girl next to her, and I finally recognize who she’s with. Jasminta from Itch Scratch. Another girl leans in to ask Dree a question, and Dree puts an arm around her waist, says something, and the other girl laughs.

A hot, uncomfortable feeling expands through me. That’s not supposed to happen. Since when did that happen? What even was that?

Oh, I remember now. Rejection. That was rejection.

Feeling like the world has slipped off its axis, I push away from the railing and head back into the VIP bar.

7

Dree

“You can relax now. He’s gone.”

I let out a breath and feel my shoulders unclench. I tried to laugh off what just happened with Rush Osman to Jasminta and the others, but dismay is prickling down my spine.

Jasminta is gazing at me, perplexed. A moment later she grabs my hand and drags me off the dancefloor, shouting to the others that we’ll be right back. She takes me all the way out past the bouncer to the smoking area. I don’t smoke, but Jasminta does. When she’s drinking, anyway.