Page 24 of Chasing Sarah

“Oh yeah, because going to a club isdefinitelymy scene,” she deadpans.

“Fine, but promise me we’ll go out when you’re twenty-one?” I pull her hand into mine and hold it close to my chin, begging with my eyes for her to make this promise.

She huffs and rolls her eyes but smiles when she replies. “Fine. I promise we will go out when I turn twenty-one.”

“No take backs.”

“No take backs,” she agrees.

I squeal and plant a kiss on her cheek. She chuckles and wipes away the lipstick that paints her skin.

“Go have fun, I’m going to just finish my book and go to bed.” She holds up her e-reader.

“What are you reading this time?” I lift my chin, gesturing toward it.

“It’s calledWaiting for Redemption by Sarah Pirtle.” A smile spreads across her face and she begins to tell me all about the story.

“Huh… I’d totally bone Tank. He sounds hot AF.”

“Same.”

Laughter bursts out of us and I lean against her arm.

“I wouldn’t mind a big, tattooed, ex-marine calling me his wife,” I say, a dreamy expression spreading over my face. “That’s it. I’m manifesting a big, tattooed man who is possessive and sexy as sin to sweep me off my feet.”

Paige snorts then nudges me with her shoulder. “Get out of here, you crazy woman.”

“Listen, I’m an Aries. It’s in my nature to be the way I am.” I stand and straighten my little black dress I chose for the night.

Paige’s face sobers and her light green eyes rise to meet mine. “Just please be careful,” she whispers.

I came completely unglued when Paige first told me of the horrors she experienced growing up. I had demanded she take me to her mom’s house so I could rip her limb from limb. I wanted to eradicate her existence and that of her fucking drug dealer, Mark.

Her timid and shielded behavior made more sense after that. Since then, it’s been my mission to help her grow out of that shell and to see the good that life can have.

Even if I sometimes struggle to believe it.

“I promise.” I place my hand on my heart and smile softly.

Planting a kiss on her head, I walk out of our apartment.

* * *

I follow Karley – another bartender from work – into the club. We’ve become relatively close since I started working at the bar.

The repetitive thump of the bass vibrates in my chest. On the dancefloor, party goers grind against each other seductively.

Karley leans into my ear. “Let’s head to the bar,” she shouts over the music, and I nod. We push our way through the throng of bodies, finding two empty stools at the bar. After a couple of tries, we finally get the attention one of the bartenders.

A tall slender man with blonde spiked hair and dark eyeliner painted around his eyes stands in front of us with a smile.

“What can I get you?”

Karley leans forward so she doesn’t need to shout as loud. “I’ll have a shot of tequila.”

He nods then turns his gaze to me. “Same.”

“Coming right up,” he replies with a wink then swiftly pours our shots. He sets the glasses onto the bar top followed by a small bowl of salt and two lime wedges.

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