17. Isla
CHAPTER 17
ISLA
Getting dressed should not be this difficult.
The whole scene of my bedroom should be photographed with the tagline “The Art of Not Looking Like I Tried Too Hard.” Glaring at the three different pairs of heels I had strewn across the floor, I contemplated wearing sneakers. That would show him I hadn’t tried.
Knowing the pretentious jerk like I did, he’d probably take it as a compliment that I purposefully dressed down for him.
“Ugh!” I screamed out my frustration into the emptiness of my bedroom. “I am not dressing for him!”
And I wasn’t.
Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I glared at myself. “I am not dressing for him!”
This was a night out with Sienna and her friends, who she could get hold of on such short notice because this was an overdue girls’ night, a fun distraction. It had nothing to do with Zayn. Or his club. Or Zayn…
Nothing at all. I told myself that at four o’clock. I reminded myself of that at five thirty when I came out of my shower. At six ten, I ate my chicken salad happily, not one thought about the dastardly demon that owned the hottest club in town. At six forty-five, I was talking to myself in the mirror about why every item of clothing I owned was shockingly inadequate.
As I stood in front of my closest, arms crossed, I was already annoyed with myself. What the hell was I even doing? Was I really overthinking a damn outfit like some lovesick teenager?
Absolute l y not .
The only “sick” I got near Zayn was physically sick. I squinted as I considered it. Was that a good insult? I took another gulp of wine—not for Dutch courage, no, it was the drink of a sophisticated single woman enjoying a fine wine before she met with friends.
“Oh my god, Isla, this has to stop.” With grim determination that it didn’t matter , I grabbed the first thing that made sense—a fitted black dress, sleek and simple. Effortless. Paired with heels that said I belong anywhere I damn well please.
My hair was half towel dried, and I stood in my lingerie—perfectly normal lingerie with not one hint of silk or lace—as I thought about how to style my hair. With a defiant shrug, I roughly blow-dried it, then added a few haphazard curls with my flat iron. Turning my head upside down, I shook my hair out and then flung my head back. Beach wave perfect. Not too styled, not too wild.
Perfect, loose waves let my chocolate-brown hair fall softly around my face, leaving me with the conundrum of makeup. Did I need makeup? I only ever wore eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. Pulling at my skin, wishing I had more color than this flush I was wearing, I decided I’d put on just enough to hide the nerves crawling under my skin.
“It’s not a date,” I whispered to myself, angry at the effort I was putting into this “I made no effort” look. “This is not about Zayn.”
It was just a night out.
Twenty minutes later, I checked my reflection one last time, ensuring that I looked like I had taken just enough time to care but not enough to make it obvious. Then, before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed my clutch, downed the rest of my wine, and headed out the door.
Sienna, looking radiant and annoyingly smug, was already waiting outside her building when the cab pulled up.
“Why do you look so…gleeful?” I asked her warily.
She slid into the seat beside me, looking me over with a knowing smirk. “You look good.”
I’d spent the whole drive here waging a mental battle I refused to lose. Sienna was not going to tip me over the edge. “Do I normally look bad?” I asked her with a roll of my eyes.
She laughed, but she didn’t miss a beat. “So, tell me…how much time did you spend deciding what you should wear tonight?”
“Maybe five or ten minutes?” Lie, lie, lie, lie . “It’s a Friday night, and I’m just not as hip as I used to be.” I brushed my hair off my shoulder. “I never can keep up with trends.”
She saw right through my bullshit. “You took ten minutes?” Her eyebrows rose into her hairline. “Next, you’ll be telling me you don’t want Zayn’s attention tonight.”
That earned her a punch on the arm. “I don’t dress for men, Sienna.”
She leaned closer to me and whispered. “Satin lingerie? Or lace?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Or…none?”
I jerked away from her, my face flaming.
Sienna cackled, and I noticed the cab driver frowning at her loudness. “Right,” she said while wiping her eyes. “So all that, the all-black, sexy-but-not-trying-too-hard thing, was just a simple coincidence?”
Gritting my teeth together, I tried not to snap. “It’s a nightclub, Sienna. Should I have worn a sweatshirt and leggings?”
Sienna grinned at me, thoroughly enjoying my discomfort. “I mean, if you were trying to convince me that he isn’t under your skin, maybe. Maybe…”
I shot her a look, but she just snorted, her eyes twinkling with way too much enjoyment.
“When will you believe me that I don’t care what he thinks?” I sounded convincing even if my stomach was in knots at the blatant lie.
Maybe she finally believed me, or maybe she decided to cut me some slack because she didn’t call me out on it, which somehow made me feel worse.
The cab parked just up from the main entrance, and I was pleased. I knew I needed the extra distance to prepare myself mentally for what happened next. It wouldn’t have mattered had the cab parked me back at home and I walked there. As soon as I stepped out of the car, I felt it.
The pull. The awareness. It felt like the damn building itself knew I was back.
Elixir was already buzzing, and a steady line of people was wrapped around the block, waiting for the chance to step into Zayn’s world.
“Wow, there’s already a queue.” Sienna’s eyes were wide with awe, and I jabbed my elbow into her side. “Ow!”
“You’ve been to a nightclub before; stop looking so starry-eyed full of wonder.”
She grabbed my hand, tucking it into the crook of her arm. “When we get inside, you’re doing shots until you relax.” She let out a sudden squeal, ignoring my wince. “Girls! Girls, we’re here!”
How can they miss her? She caught my eye, and I instantly felt guilty, offering her a weak smile. This was her night. I should stop feeling sorry for myself and enjoy it with her.
“Do we have to join the line?” one of them complained, and I couldn’t remember if she was Brittani with an “I” or a “Y.” She turned to me. “I thought you knew people?”
Before I got a chance to answer, I heard a voice I recognized.
“Wells? Let’s move it,” Rye called from the front of the line. “Ain’t got all night for you and your party, Isla.”
Sienna grinned widely at her friend. “See, I told you Isla knew people.”
Did it matter that Isla wished she didn’t know these people?
As we reached the front of the line, I felt my spine straighten as Rye scanned our group. There were only six of us, but it felt like he had undressed each one of us with a single glance. It wasn’t even predatory; it was simply a thorough inspection and dismissal.
The bulky hunk from the gala gave me a friendly wink as I passed, and it took the heat out of my unkind thoughts. The unjustness of the gala still simmered. Sienna and her friends were already halfway up the stairs, my pace not as lively as I willingly walked back into his territory.
I faltered when I heard Rye mutter to Hunk, “He’s going to have no focus the whole time she’s here.”
“You seen her?” Hunk said. “I’m having a hard time not turning around to watch that ass go up the stairs.”
“Straight ahead if you want to keep your eyes,” Rye grunted.
I hesitated and then hurriedly ran up the stairs to meet Sienna and the others. Elixir was buzzing. Inside, the air was thick with energy, the music vibrating under my skin, and the scent of whiskey, cologne, and something inherently sinful curled around me.
It was overwhelming and intoxicating all at once.
I kept my posture relaxed and my face unreadable as Sienna grabbed my arm. “Okay,” I shouted over the music. “Main bar, over there,” I gestured to the packed bar. “Booths and tables that way; dance floor there.” I pointed to the center of the floor. “Restrooms are there, there, and at the back there.”
Sienna pulled me towards the bar. “Drink first, dancing second,” she declared. She stopped suddenly, looking over her friends. “You got your buddy system?” They all nodded. “You’re with me suga tits.”
“Suga tits?” I laughed.
“No Isla allowed inside Elixir tonight; from now on, you’re Suga tits.”
Shaking my head at her foolishness, I let her take the lead. If this was how the night was going to start, I definitely needed a drink. I also needed to act like I wasn’t scanning the room.
Like I wasn’t looking for him. Like I wasn’t waiting for the moment Zayn found me first.
I downed my first shot of tequila. It didn’t matter that I already knew he would find me.
* * *
I took a sip of my drink, the cold bite of tequila and lime grounding me for a split second.
“Down it! Don’t sip it, suga tits!” Sienna bellowed over the music, holding out the little salt shaker.
With a shake of my head, I licked the salt and then downed my shot. “Ugh!” I shook my head from side to side as my face scrunched up at the taste. “When does this stop and the wine start?” I demanded over the loud music.
Elixir was alive with a pulse of bodies moving under the low, flickering lights, music thrumming deep in my bones.
It was a heady, throbbing beat, and though I knew the DJ was playing a variety of songs, the bass felt like it was in rhythm with my heart. Or maybe my heart was in rhythm with the music.
Crap, was I already drunk? I turned away so Sienna wouldn’t see me and took a swig of water from the bottle the bartender had slipped me when the girls weren’t paying attention. I hadn’t asked for it, and I hadn’t questioned it.
Maybe it was what they did here? They recognized the nondrinkers or the hardly ever drinkers and slipped them water so they wouldn’t be passed out on the bathroom floor halfway through the evening.
Even as I fed myself the bullshit story, I knew who ordered the bartender to give me water. I still wasn’t looking for him. I had told myself that at least a hundred times already.
But that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen me.
Sienna was chatting with someone at the bar, laughing easily, completely at home in the chaotic energy of the club.
I, on the other hand, was tense. I watched everyone who passed me. It didn’t matter how many people filled this space or how many VIPs strode past us, sipping their champagne and pretending they weren’t desperate for attention as they sought out the exclusivity of Elixir. This place only belonged to one man. And I hadn’t seen him.
My fingers itched against my glass, my skin prickled with awareness, and my pulse felt a little too unsteady.
Sienna nudged my arm. “You’re tense?”
I forced a wide smile. “Isla is always tense.”
She laughed, throwing her head back. “Okay, let’s fix this. We’re dancing!”
“Again!” I screeched as she pulled me to the dance floor. It didn’t matter. She was very good at pretending she couldn’t hear me. On the dance floor, I didn’t feel so unnerved. On the dance floor, I could pretend I wasn’t in the place where Zayn had stabbed me in the back just a week ago.
No, not the back. He’d stabbed me in the chest and kept eye contact the whole time.
Bastard.
Closing my eyes, I let the music wash over me. I didn’t want to think about him anymore. He wasn’t worth the free rent in my head.
Swaying to the music, my arms in the air, I let go of it all. The tequila and the excitement of my friend being in the club whose owner tried to ruin me—it was all too much. I simply let go and enjoyed the song and the crush of bodies around me.
Strands of hair clung to my damp skin, and I didn’t care. I danced on. A warm body pressed against me, and I stepped away, Sienna’s hold on my arm keeping me with her as we moved away from any unwanted male attention.
I checked that she was okay. She was already lost in the music again, and I followed her lead. Another hip bump, and I was sick of being jostled by guys who didn’t get the hint.
I felt it before I even opened my eyes.
A slow heat, a shift in the air, a presence that stole the oxygen from the room.
Sienna leaned into me. “Found him.”
My stomach dipped, and I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to stay calm as I opened my eyes.
And there he was.
He stood on the edge of the dance floor, near the VIP section, holding a bottle of water. Dressed in what was beginning to become his signature black on black, his shirt sleeves were pushed up, exposing tantalizing flesh. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t talking. He wasn’t doing anything at all.
Just watching me.
Unmoving. Unblinking. Unapologetic.
The flickering neon lights cut across his sharp features, casting shadows over his strong jaw, his eyes unreadable but still too damn intense.
My throat felt dry. I shouldn’t have worn this dress.
I shouldn’t have come here at all.
But I refused to look away first.
His gaze dragged over me, slow and deliberate, a silent assessment. A silent caress. Like he wasn’t already rewriting the narrative of whatever this was in his head.
With one look, I knew he was about to change the game. Again.
His lip curled up into a smirk, and my stomach flipped.
“Because there’s nothing between you at all,” Sienna drawled, sounding smug as hell.
I ignored her.
Instead, I lifted my chin, turned my back to him, and started to dance again, knowing I had already lost whatever battle that was. I knew the second I looked away, the instant I let my guard down for even a moment…Zayn was going to make his next move.
Sienna slid up beside me, and I could practically taste her anticipation as she prepared to demand answers.
“Just say it,” I grumbled loud enough to be heard over the music.
“You can pretend all you want, Suga tits, but I felt that . This whole room felt that .”
“Drama queen.” I rolled my eyes, forcing an impish smile. “I didn’t feel a thing.”
Sienna laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the dance floor. “Yeah, right. I need a drink.”
We headed to the bar, where the other girls were standing, and I was determined to ignore the heat still lingering on my skin or the way my racing heart hadn’t quite settled.
A cool hand curled around my upper arm, pulling me to a stop. I refused to look at him as Sienna returned to the bar, unaware I wasn’t behind her. A bottle of water was pressed into my hand.
“Drink.”
No matter how much I wanted to pretend, Zayn wasn’t done with me.