catch the second—okay, the rest of her name. “Grace?”
“ Deidre,” she throws at me and then stomps away.
She walks like she needs to take a shit. I could have fixed that if I had just stuck with Sugar. Fix broken things like my father used to—the only thing we had in common.
I need another scotch.
I weave around the couples and lurch my way over to the counter. The night is busy, but it only takes a few minutes for Elton to bring me another. He hovers his hand over the cup. “Your last one. Savor it.”
I'm not that drunk, though usually I stop at two. I snatch up my drink and slink off into the shadows—the couches. The music doesn't scream as loud this far back and my thoughts can hear themselves.
I scan the club. Just shy of one in the morning, the rainbow-colored strobe lights pitch at full twirl. Still I can find Duke in the crowd, dancing. His tie and suit jacket are missing. That will be tomorrow's complaint from Duke.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head. The moment I do the furniture bounces because someone needed to sit on the same damn couch despite the other three available. Annoyed, I open my eyes to slits and glare. My hand twitches against the cold glass. The rest of me is numb with shock.
A red dress flirts with her mid-thigh. Doesn't help she's crossed her legs at the knee. It's just miles of brown skin, not covered in body glitter. She left her curls out and they brush well below her shoulders.
“ No,” I say, and I have every intention to repeat the single word until Robyn disappears.
She laughs at me. “And here I thought you'd be happy to see me.”
My heart's hammering. If someone based my answer on my reaction, I am. “No.”
“ What happened?” She slides a hand into her hair and props her elbow on the back of the couch. Her body's facing mine.
I'm distracted by the way the skirt of the dress flutters at the small shift. “What are you talking about?”
“ You were dancing, and the woman left, looking a little pissed.”
My brain tries to process that she had been watching me, but I'm sluggish and warm and my heart is still galloping with her so close.
I search my memory and then finally say, “Grace and I didn't see eye to eye.”
“ Grace? Is that really her name or are you just making shit up?”
I think that's her name. Fuck if I know, and who cares. “What do you want, Stealth?”
Her mouth tightens at the corners for a fraction of a second. If my head wasn't so heavy I would have straightened. That minute reaction is the first time I've put a dent in her armor. Well, a dent that didn't involve my mouth being on her.
She says, “You left without saying goodbye, and we weren't done.”
I had my ten minutes, and she had hers. I didn't see an end to us—not a good one. That's why I left. “Weren't you? You got your revenge.”
“ I did, didn't I?” Her shoulders rise up, she takes a deep breath and curves more into the couch. Whatever thought, mini-argument, that flashed in her mind is settled. She sighs. “I wasn't done with you.”
That's interesting wording. I let my gaze coast over her, this time paying attention to the details. She's painted on dark red lipstick, and that should have been a crime. Her mouth doesn't need help to look full, biteable. Her curls are tight, true coils that are likely soft to the touch tonight. I refuse to test the theory. Two straps sling around her neck, holding up the red dress. She perches on the couch in such a way I know she's bare under the flirty material.
This is my day. Robyn without underwear and sitting no more than two feet away. “Tell me more about the Broken Virgin,” I demand.
She flinches. “How did you get that scar on your face?”
I almost smile at the evasive maneuver. “Most people assume it's a dimple.”
“ God's not that perverse.”
That sounds like a compliment. Despite common sense, I let the smile break through. “Broken Virgin?”
Her shoulders pull up, and her gaze drops down
“ Deidre,” she throws at me and then stomps away.
She walks like she needs to take a shit. I could have fixed that if I had just stuck with Sugar. Fix broken things like my father used to—the only thing we had in common.
I need another scotch.
I weave around the couples and lurch my way over to the counter. The night is busy, but it only takes a few minutes for Elton to bring me another. He hovers his hand over the cup. “Your last one. Savor it.”
I'm not that drunk, though usually I stop at two. I snatch up my drink and slink off into the shadows—the couches. The music doesn't scream as loud this far back and my thoughts can hear themselves.
I scan the club. Just shy of one in the morning, the rainbow-colored strobe lights pitch at full twirl. Still I can find Duke in the crowd, dancing. His tie and suit jacket are missing. That will be tomorrow's complaint from Duke.
Closing my eyes, I rest my head. The moment I do the furniture bounces because someone needed to sit on the same damn couch despite the other three available. Annoyed, I open my eyes to slits and glare. My hand twitches against the cold glass. The rest of me is numb with shock.
A red dress flirts with her mid-thigh. Doesn't help she's crossed her legs at the knee. It's just miles of brown skin, not covered in body glitter. She left her curls out and they brush well below her shoulders.
“ No,” I say, and I have every intention to repeat the single word until Robyn disappears.
She laughs at me. “And here I thought you'd be happy to see me.”
My heart's hammering. If someone based my answer on my reaction, I am. “No.”
“ What happened?” She slides a hand into her hair and props her elbow on the back of the couch. Her body's facing mine.
I'm distracted by the way the skirt of the dress flutters at the small shift. “What are you talking about?”
“ You were dancing, and the woman left, looking a little pissed.”
My brain tries to process that she had been watching me, but I'm sluggish and warm and my heart is still galloping with her so close.
I search my memory and then finally say, “Grace and I didn't see eye to eye.”
“ Grace? Is that really her name or are you just making shit up?”
I think that's her name. Fuck if I know, and who cares. “What do you want, Stealth?”
Her mouth tightens at the corners for a fraction of a second. If my head wasn't so heavy I would have straightened. That minute reaction is the first time I've put a dent in her armor. Well, a dent that didn't involve my mouth being on her.
She says, “You left without saying goodbye, and we weren't done.”
I had my ten minutes, and she had hers. I didn't see an end to us—not a good one. That's why I left. “Weren't you? You got your revenge.”
“ I did, didn't I?” Her shoulders rise up, she takes a deep breath and curves more into the couch. Whatever thought, mini-argument, that flashed in her mind is settled. She sighs. “I wasn't done with you.”
That's interesting wording. I let my gaze coast over her, this time paying attention to the details. She's painted on dark red lipstick, and that should have been a crime. Her mouth doesn't need help to look full, biteable. Her curls are tight, true coils that are likely soft to the touch tonight. I refuse to test the theory. Two straps sling around her neck, holding up the red dress. She perches on the couch in such a way I know she's bare under the flirty material.
This is my day. Robyn without underwear and sitting no more than two feet away. “Tell me more about the Broken Virgin,” I demand.
She flinches. “How did you get that scar on your face?”
I almost smile at the evasive maneuver. “Most people assume it's a dimple.”
“ God's not that perverse.”
That sounds like a compliment. Despite common sense, I let the smile break through. “Broken Virgin?”
Her shoulders pull up, and her gaze drops down
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