Page 2 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

I look hot.

And if my heart wasn’t broken and soaked in bitterness, I might actually be able to feel good about myself.

“Hey,” the bouncer says, gesturing toward the group of hopeful club-goers in front of me. “Yeah, you ladies. Your turn!”

“Yay!” one of them squeals, clapping her hands.

He’s very clearly addressing only their party. I’m here alone.

But one of the girls at the rear of the group takes my hand. “Come with us,” she says, giving me a kind smile.

“Oh, I don’t know…” I don’t want to break whatever rules are in place. The bouncer wasn’t asking for everyone in line, just that group.

“You want to go in there and have fun, right?” she says.

Now she’s invested, confused why I would even hesitate at the chance to pretend I’m with them to get in early.

Although I’ve been living just half an hour away in Fair Heights, I’ve never been here. And I came to Club Vice to finally say yes. So I force a wide smile and say it. “Yes. Thanks.”

She giggles and links her arm in mine, bringing me along with her small herd of girlfriends. We all pay the cover, show our IDs, and enter the club.

“Have fun out there,” she says, shouting to be heard over the loud music. “If you want company or don’t feel safe, come find my group!”

“Thanks!” I shout back. “I hope you have fun, too!”

“I plan on it!” She hustles to the bar after her friends.

I spot another end of the bar that’s far less crowded, so I make my way over to it. I soak in the atmosphere as I go. Vice is everything the travel blog promised. The music is great, the vibe is hot. Everyone is sexy and happy, flirting and dancing as if their lives depend on it. This place is like the coolest party I was never invited to.

Yet here I am.

The guy in front of me at the bar steps away and suddenly I’m facing the bartender, a tall guy in a tight black t-shirt. His name tag reads Vincent. His eye makeup is gorgeous, and I tell him so.

“Thanks,” he says. “What’ll you have?”

“Oh…lime soda.” No alcohol for me tonight. If I want to say yes to everything (within reason), then I need my faculties.

“You got it.” Vincent pours me a glass and adds a slice of lime, then hands it over with a smile. “Soda is on the house. Enjoy.”

“Thanks!”

I don’t know what else to do, so I hop up on a nearby stool and spin around to face the dance floor. I want to be out there, forgetting everything from the past three weeks. This is my last night of freedom before I move in with my dad. I haven’t seen the guy in six years. I’m staying in a hotel tonight, and after this, it’s back to being treated like a wayward teenager.

I deserve that treatment. I made bad choices, bad judgment calls.

But tonight? Tonight I fucking dance.

I finish my soda, then give Vincent a little finger wave and pop off my stool. Excitement bubbles through me as I make my way out to the dance floor. Even though I’m here without friends, I don’t feel lonely. That’s the beauty of frenetic dancing to too-loud music—you’re never really alone. My blood thrums through my body like liquid joy, pulsing in time with the bass, speeding my heart. This is where I come alive, where I shed the misery of the past month, kick betrayal and heartache to the curb. This is where I become myself again—in the hottest club in Southern California.

It doesn’t take long for someone to break the spell. A guy in a baseball cap and a half-unbuttoned shirt slides up next to me and smiles. Harmless, right? I smile back.

He takes it as an invitation and snatches me around the waist to grind up against me. I try to pull away, shaking my head.

He holds on tighter. “Let’s have fun.”

“No,” I say, pushing him off. I told myself I’d say yes within reason. And this handsy dick-sprout is not within reason.

“Aw, c’mon, baby.”

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