Page 26 of Little Monster
“Hey, Brian,” Alisha says, and he arches a dark brow at her, his shaved head gleaming under the neon lights outlining the door.
“Back again?” he asks.
“I just can’t get enough of you.” She reaches out to touch his head, but he swiftly blocks her hand and opens the door.
“Go on. And no trouble tonight.” His gaze cuts to Lucas over my shoulder, and somehow, I’m not surprised.
Alisha leads the way into the nightclub, and the music hits me full force.
The dance floor writhes with bodies, and velvet—yes,velvet—couches are set up in tasteful arrangements throughout the large space. The bar teems with people, and I try not to stare when I recognize actors and actresses, singers, and even some big-name YouTubers among the crowd.
“Let’s get a drink,” Alisha says, raising her voice to be heard over the music.
Jordan steps up on my other side, and we head to the bar together, weaving through the packed space. I glance back over my shoulder, but we’ve lost the guys, so it’s just the three of us.
“What do you want?” Jordan asks.
“Whatever you’re having.”
Her smile is bright, and she leans over the bar and wiggles her fingers at the bartender, who sweeps over quickly to serve us.
“Hey, ladies.” His voice is smooth, his smile easy and handsome. I wonder briefly if you’re required to be attractive in order to work here. Probably. “What’re you drinking?”
“Redheaded Sluts,” Jordan says, and my eyebrows rise. “We’ll start with three.”
I step closer to the bar, watching with interest as the bartender mixes Jägermeister, peach schnapps, and cranberry juice, then shakes the concoction up with ice and strains it into three shot glasses. The resulting drink is bright red, and Alisha and Jordan grab theirs with vigor. I pick mine up and just hope I can get it down in one go.
“Bottoms up!” Alisha says.
We clink our glasses, and then I lift the Slut to my lips, close my eyes, and drain it. It burns going down, a balanced mix of bold and sweet, and my eyes water as I set the empty shot glass on the bar.
Jordan tousles her blond hair with her fingertips, then reaches for my and Alisha’s hands. “Let’s dance.”
While I’m a touch—okay, maybe more than a touch—socially stunted, one thing Idoenjoy doing with people is dancing, so following Jordan through the throngs of people and onto the dance floor doesn’t make my knees shake with nervousness. Instead, I feel a surge of excitement rising in me as the song starts to transition, and then the next song starts, and Jordan throws her hands up.
“I love this song!” she yells, but it’s so loud in here that no one even turns to look at her.
Alisha and I laugh as we gather into a circle, starting to move to the music. The beat pounds through me, and with a martini and a shot burning through my bloodstream, I feel like flying.
The nervousness and stress and anxiety that usually drag me down during social situations finally release me of their clutches, and in this moment, in this place, I’m free. I can breathe.
And Idance.
My hips sway, and I run a hand through my hair, letting the rhythm move me. The music crescendos, and I shake my head, loving how my hair feels flying around my face. Alisha’s braids bounce against her back as she jumps to the beat, and Jordan has her eyes closed, hands in the air, the neon lights turning her pale hair bright pink and blue.
I toss my head and turn around, and a bolt of electricity goes through me when I meet Dex’s eyes from across the room. There must be close to a hundred people in here, but somehow, I find him, my eyes drawn to his like there’s a magnetic pull tugging us toward each other.
Despite the women hovering in Dex’s vicinity and the many bodies between us, most of them lean and glittering and scantily clad, it’smehe’s looking at.
The guys stand around him, mouths moving as they talk and laugh, but Dex just stares at me, one elbow on the bar, his free hand tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.
And even though it’s dumb and will only hurt me in the end, I smile at him, and I hold his smoldering gaze as I twist my hips in a circle and run a hand down the tight black minidress and over my curves. And still, he doesn’t look away.
My body tingles, and I think Imightbe in trouble.
I turn back to the girls, and they both move in close, grinding against me, their bodies warm and soft and sensual. The liquor makes my head pleasantly dizzy, and when thesong ends, I clap along with everyone else, hungry for the next one to start.
But then a hand touches my elbow. I turn, and it’s Dex’s eyes I’m looking into. They’re ice blue in the neon light. This close to him, closer than I’ve ever been, I can see how fine his eyelashes are, like soft golden thread.
