Page 73 of The Quit List
This surprises the bouncer for a moment, but he quickly recovers. Shakes his head again like he thinks I’m trying to pull the wool over his eyes. “You go ahead, then.” He folds his arms. “I’ll wait.”
I unzip my purse, hands shaking slightly. I’ve texted with Aaron, of course, I have his phone number. But I somehow feel like this bouncer is somehow gonna call my bluff.
I’m pulling out my phone when a deep voice says, “Hey, Lenny, you can let them up. They’re with me.”
Lenny the Meathead turns to face Aaron, who’s now standing on the stairs ahead of us. He’s dressed in a blue button-down shirt that strains across his very wide chest, and he’s smiling directly at me, those pearly white teeth flashing while his green eyes sparkle.
I have to say, he really is a good looking man.
And now, the seemingly unflappable bouncer is very flapped. “Oh, Mr. Marino. I’m sorry, I?—”
Aaron holds up his hands. “Please, call me Aaron. And we’re all good.” Then, he smiles right at me again. “Hi, Holly.”
“Hi!” My voice is no less of a squeak than it was a moment ago.
Lenny dutifully moves aside and opens the rope barrier for Aubrey and me.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
Aubrey is less polite, throwing him an “I told you so” as we glide past him and follow Aaron into the VIP area.
Upstairs, there’s a large, semi-circular banquette couch that curves around a low table loaded with ice buckets and half-empty bottles and glasses. One of the hockey players seated on the couch—devastatingly handsome with his piercing eyes and tousled brown hair, by the way—grins at us in what can only be described as a “panty melting” sort of way.
And no, my panties are not melted. But I can totally see that this is the effect he’s going for… and that it probably usually works.
Wow. Jax really has taught me some things.
“Leave for two seconds and you come back with an angel and a devil on your shoulders,” the handsome man says, running his hand through his hair roguishly.
It takes me a second to realize that he’s referring to Aubrey and me as the angel and devil, respectively. I get the comparison, at first glance. Aubrey, with her blond waves and long cream dress, is a striking contrast to me, all in black with my dark hair straightened and chic.
It’s funny, because of the two of us, Aubrey is definitely the devilish one. Guess looks can be deceiving.
“Going to introduce me, Aaron?”
“Calm your ass down, Dallas.” Aaron rolls his eyes. “You act like you’ve never seen a beautiful woman before. This is Holly, and her friend?—”
“Aubrey,” she fills in, and Aaron shakes her hand.
“Appropriately angelic name,” Dallas volunteers.
“You’re not as charming as you think you are,” my friend replies, to which he laughs raucously.
“I like you already,” he says with a wink. “Come sit down.”
I look at Aubrey, who shrugs blithely, then goes to sit beside the flirty flirt on the couch. Probably to put him in his place and take him down a peg or two.
Aaron, meanwhile, scrubs a hand over his face. “You’ll have to excuse Dallas. I think he might’ve been raised in a barn.”
“Aubrey’s not as angelic as she looks. She’ll keep him in line.”
“Good.” Aaron’s eyes twinkle. “But Dallas is dead wrong about the devilish, by the way. You look stunning tonight. Even more beautiful in person.”
I know it’s a line, but he delivers it well, and I’m not not here for it. “Thank you.”
“Can I get you a drink, Holly?”
I wiggle my half-empty glass at him. “I’m all set.”
