Page 23 of Broken Pieces
“Jack has a VIP table and two other friends,” Sophia yells over the music, wiggling her eyebrows.
I look over her shoulder who I assume is Jack, and he’s your typical preppy guy. I can only imagine what the other two guys look like.
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head.
Sophia ignores my complaint and drags us both with her to the stairs. We enter the VIP section, and the area isfilled with sizable tables and a less crowded bar. The guy Sophia met leads us to a table where two of his friends are chatting and drinking. One of them, with his tanned skin, dark blond hair, and a lazy smile, catches my attention. He notices and responds with a flirtatious smile.
Guess I’m dancing with a stranger tonight, nice.
Exactly what I need to get the he-shall-not-be-named guy off my mind.
Sophia notices the lingering eye contact and decides to play matchmaker. “Didn't you say you were a little tired from all the dancing? Sit right here; this is their table. Me and Isa will be at the bar with the guys.” She winks at me, then grabs Isa’s hand, while the other two guys follow after them.
I laugh. “Sorry. My best friend loves to play matchmaker sometimes. I don't have to sit here; I'm fine,” I say, starting to walk to the bar.
The handsome stranger briefly grabs my hand to stop me, and when I don’t feel the same charge of electricity I get every time Damian touches me, the disappointment hits me out of nowhere.
He drops it, grabbing his beer back and taking a sip before replying, “That's fine. I don't mind her playing matchmaker; you're beautiful.” He winks. “Do you want to dance?”
I hesitate for a moment, before replying, “Sure. I'm Aria, by the way,” as we walk downstairs to the dance floor.
“I'm Theo.” He smiles at me, andanother wave of disappointment hits me when his smile doesn’t hit the same as Damian’s.
Why can’t I stop thinking about him? I’m so pathetic.
“Beautiful name for a beautiful redhead,” he says, grabbing one of my curls with his finger and playing with it.
His game is a bit lame, but he has good looks so I don't mind. It’s not like I’m looking for the future father of my children at a club. Just some innocent dancing and flirting will do.
Hitting the dance floor, the beats of ‘Woman’ byDoja Catkick in, setting the scene. Theo snags me by the hips, our bodies colliding in rhythm. Closing my eyes, I let the music take over, enjoying the dance with this stranger. Turning my back to him, we sway closer, feeling the vibe in sync, bodies moving together. His hands wander over my stomach, and while I'm cool with some dancing closeness, one of his hands decides to venture south. I quickly grab it, trying to keep things in check. While I agreed to dance with him, I didn’t sign up to get groped in the middle of a club. Despite my attempt to signal some boundaries, he doesn’t take the hint and keeps traveling his hand until it’s close to my inner thigh.
“I need to find my friends. They're probably wondering where I am,” I say, using it as an excuse to put some distance between us.
Despitethat, he turns me around, grabbing my hips and pulling me back into the dance, his hands freely roaming, this time reaching for my ass.
“Please, let me go,” I plead, my voice shaky.
“Come on. We're just dancing,” he dismissively replies, licking his lips while leering at my chest. My attempts to break free become useless, making me increasingly uncomfortable.
“Fucking let me go,” I assert, pushing him with all my strength, causing him to stumble.
He retaliates by grabbing my wrist. “You fucking bitch. You're the one who looked my way first; why are you acting so innocent now?” he retorts, tightening his grip, causing pain.
“You're hurting me! Let go!” I yell back, desperate to break free from the escalating situation.
Out of nowhere, someone grabs my hips from behind, gently pulling me backward and stepping in between me and the guy.
“She told you to let her go.”
The touch is strangely familiar, igniting a burning and thrilling sensation I've experienced before. The unmistakable scent of cedarwood, a fragrance that's lingered in my mind for the past month, invades my space. My breath catches as the clean aroma intoxicates me, leaving me slightly dizzy. The lingering sensation on my hips, wherehis hands were just moments ago, still burns in the best way possible.
“Yeah? And who the fuck are you?” Theo questions, pushing him.
“I'm the guy who's going to break your fucking teeth if you don't get thefuckout of my face.”
“Mind your business, dude. I'm just here trying to get some pussy. She was asking for—” Theo can't finish the sentence because the man delivers a solid punch. Theo crumples to the floor, crying out, with his nose bleeding profusely.
In the dimly lit club, with only the pulsating beat of music and neon lights flickering, the man stands tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair. While it’s hard to recognize the face once he turns around, I don’t need to. Because I can recognize that silhouette anywhere.
