The Write Stuff (Write Stuff 1)

Placing my laptop on the empty side of my bed, I laid back against my pillows, hoping my eyes would become heavy quickly. The problem was, after a long writing session I couldn't turn off my brain immediately, so I usually just laid there full of adrenaline. I figured if I was in bed I was technically resting. That was the reasoning I had used on my parents when I was younger. Thanks to the blackout curtains I had bought, my room was plunged into darkness after I shut off my lamp. I set the alarm on my cell phone for six thirty, resisting the urge to peek at Facebook or check my emails.

Severus had been waiting patiently at the foot of my bed and now walked up my legs, taking his customary spot on my stomach. He wasn't exactly fat by cat standards, but he was solid. I grunted under his weight as he made bread dough on the blanket until he was satisfied he would be comfortable. I closed my eyes while petting Severus on the head. I must have been more tired than I realized because I felt myself drifting away to the steady rumble of his purring.

Sometime later, I was startled awake by the sound of pounding on my front door. Severus meowed his displeasure when I abruptly sat up, dislodging him from my stomach. I felt disoriented. My room remained dark regardless of what time of the day it was because of my curtains. Groping around my desk, I managed to find my phone and tapped the button to light up the screen. Another series of pounding on the door echoed throughout the apartment. I groaned when I saw that it was eight o'clock.

Scrambling from my bed, I rubbed a hand across my eyes and flipped on the lights as I made my way to my front door with Severus trailing behind me.

"I knew it. You fell asleep," Olivia proclaimed when I pulled open the door.

Rather than try to deny the obvious, I turned and walked away so she could enter. "Why didn't you use the key I gave you?"

"I left it in the car with Taylor. His mom called him as we pulled in."

I bit the inside of my cheek at the way Olivia said mom, like it was a dirty word. Her own parents had been absentee at best. She had warmed up to mine over the years, but still maintained a standoffish attitude where parents were concerned.

"Why aren't you dressed? Is this a ploy to get out of going? Because I might as well tell you, it's not going to work. So get your skinny ass in there and get dressed."

"Don't be bossy. I was up late writing and my alarm failed to wake me up," I said, holding up the culprit to take the blame for me.

Olivia took the phone from my hand and trailed behind me as I headed to my bedroom to change. She perched on my unmade bed while I searched my closet for something presentable to wear. I wasn't a fashion expert, but even I had to admit my closet was sparse. My dresser overflowed with yoga pants and T-shirts, but my closet looked mostly ignored. It was comprised of a few things I'd picked up over the past few years along with a few remnants of my high school wardrobe. Looking at it now, it was really pitiful.

"Your closet is fucking anorexic," Olivia complained as she peered over my shoulder. She reached around me, pushing hangers aside to search for the perfect outfit that wasn't there. "You need a complete wardrobe makeover. And a yoga pants intervention," she added, glaring at my hot pink pair.

I shrugged. Eventually I would supplement my wardrobe, but it wasn't high on my priorities list. Grabbing a black lightweight chiffon top and black cami from the closet, I headed to my dresser and pulled out a pair of jeans I'd had since high school. Judging by the look on Olivia's face, she didn't approve, but I didn't care. Jeans never went out of style, and they still fit.

Sticking out my tongue at her, I slipped into my bathroom to shower quickly and get dressed.

Fifteen minutes later I left the bathroom with a puff of steam wafting behind me. I pulled my hair up in a loose knot since I didn't have enough time to dry and straighten it. Makeup was another thing I didn't put much effort into, but I applied just enough to add some color to my cheeks. Growing up, my mom had tried her best to teach me to be a typical girl, but being surrounded by boys constantly, I learned to appreciate roughhousing and burping contests over makeup and clothes.

When I joined Olivia and Taylor in the living room, I figured my appearance must have passed Olivia's seal of approval because she made no comments to the contrary. Taylor sat on the couch petting a quite content Severus. Olivia was at the counter messing with my phone. "Your alarm works better if you set it to go off at six thirty p.m., not six thirty a.m., Einstein."

"Oops, good point," I said, catching the phone after she tossed it to me.

Taylor grinned. "It's the thought that counts, right?" He stood up after giving Severus one last stroke.

I returned his smile. Taylor was cool that way. He was no slouch in the looks department either. He and Olivia were actually a good match. Clearly he thought she was beautiful because he said so many times, but he also didn't treat her like a trophy. Over the years, I'd seen a steady stream of guys come and go with Olivia. Most of them thrived on the idea of dating someone as pretty as she was, but they were still douche faces who treated her like crap. Thankfully, she was quick to let them go. Taylor had proved to be different. He treated her as an equal rather than a possession. I could tell his intentions were to get more serious, but Olivia had major commitment issues. It would be interesting to see how it all played out. Olivia was a tough nut to crack, but something told me not to count Taylor out.

We got into our typical lively conversation about nothing in particular during the drive. Taylor was a couple years older than Olivia and me. He worked for a pharmaceutical company in Orlando and made good money. His job required him to travel quite often, but he always had plenty of stories to share with us. I was tempted to put my historical romance stories aside and write a book about flight attendants after listening to some of his anecdotes. The book would practically write itself.

We ended up eating at a small pizza joint downtown before heading to what I realized had been Olivia's intended destination all along. I shouldn't have been surprised. Truthfully, I should have been suspicious when she let the subject drop the day before. She was never one to give up so easily. As soon as Taylor pulled into Church Street Station I knew where we were and who worked inside.

My normally brave friend avoided making eye contact with me as we climbed out of the car. Instead, she took her boyfriend by the arm and walked toward the new nightclub. If Taylor was in on Olivia's plan he hid it well because he looked oblivious to our silent standoff.

We could hear and feel the throbbing of the music from the parking lot. Having been friends with Olivia for so long, I wasn't a complete novice to clubs. They just weren't my thing. Still, every so often, I would let her drag me along. I usually had fun for the most part, but that was because I never had any expectations. Even in a club filled wall to wall with people it was easy to remain inconspicuous. This time was different. I knew exactly why she had chosen the Red Moon. I wasn't an idiot. Olivia was trying to play Cupid, and the Red Moon was where Alec tended bar. Part of me relished the chance to make up for my odd behavior the other morning at the beach. At least I could prove to Alec I knew how to act normal. Unfortunately, the more dominant half of me wanted to run back to my apartment and hide where I felt safe.

Olivia must have sensed my reluctance since she reached back and grabbed me by the wrist. I told myself I still had time to pull away, but each step brought us closer to the club. Looking around, I spotted a small coffee bar across the street where I could hide out for a couple of hours, but Olivia kept a firm grasp on my wrist. Before I knew it, we had reached the door.

"Here you go," Olivia said, handing over two IDs to a tall, well muscled bouncer. I snatched my hand away and reluctantly reached inside my small purse. Pawing through the contents, I didn't know whether to panic or feel relieved when my driver's license wasn't in its customary spot.

"Looking for this?" Olivia held out my license and grabbed me by the hand to tug me inside the club.

"So now you're a thief?"

"I borrowed it while you were getting dressed. Just wanted to make sure you didn't have an excuse to bolt." My friend knew me too well.

When we got inside, I stopped before reaching the long bar where people stood shoulder to shoulder waiting to place drink orders. There were three bartenders behind the counter working the crowd, but only one of them held any significance to me. I intended to play it cool, but my palms began to sweat the moment my eyes found Alec's. Damn, he was as handsome as I remembered. He grinned, nodding his head in my direction. He recognized me. Fantastic. Nothing like making a lasting impression.

Olivia pulled me the rest of the way to the counter where a space had miraculously opened up. It was at the opposite end of the bar from where Alec was working, but was just large enough for Olivia and me to perch on two stools with Taylor standing between us.