Chapter 09 LENNIX
I am on the wrong side of town. It’s been weeks of scouring the internet, searching social media for anyone matching his name.
Hell, I’ve even been looking for anyone that might resemble him. A relative. A random tagging from a friend. Something. Anything.
Nothing.
It’s all been a bunch of nothing.
All those secret sleuthing skills apparently missed me and went straight to the woman skipping at my side, her heels clacking on the pavement as we make our way up the street toward the flickering neon sign.
One that spells out Velvet Thunder lights up the patrons waiting in line in a wash of deep purple, distorting them until it’s just a blob of blurred bodies.
I push up my glasses.
Marlo is like a ghost.
Or maybe a dream.
An obsession that Sarra picked up way before I was ready to tell her about him.
Though her finding this place makes me glad that I did.
Even if I didn’t tell her the whole truth.
She doesn’t know that his hands were like tethers on me, grounding me to the moment, and his mouth was a spot from heaven. Or that I’ve relived that photoshoot every night for the last sixteen days. Replayed every conversation so much that I’ve forgotten some bits. Made others up. Wondered if his TV show managed to make the best friends kiss yet…
I thought about looking it up so that I could tell him when I saw him.
I didn’t because I wanted to hear him tell me instead while I got to watch the way his sparkly lips formed around the words.
“Len,“
Sarra hisses, snapping in front of my face to steal my attention. Or gain it, I guess. Fuck, I’ve been zoned all the way out.
“Did you say something?”
Her dark, smoky eyes flare comically wide as she steps into my space, her tits brushing against my sternum as someone behind her knocks her closer. I grab her shoulder to steady her.
Fuck, when did we get in line?
“I told you those heels were dangerous,” I mutter.
“Bro, I’ve been rambling this whole time and now you got something to say?“
Her words are a harsh dose of reality, even as her darkly painted lips quirk, the light making them seem like an impossible shade of black. It only makes the silver of her septum ring and the ball of her labret glow in the purple light.
Which just makes me think of Marlo and his sparkles.
Who should be working inside this establishment.
“I’m sorry,“
I mutter low and shuffle so that I’m between her and some dude that looks like he’s too drunk to be this close to the scrap of a dress she chose to wear. It’s gorgeous and she’s sexy in it, but he looks like he can’t even spell respect and it’s making me more nervous. “I’m paying attention now, I swear.”
Sighing deep, she pats my chest. It’s something she’s done since we were kids, often when she can tell I’m too anxious or in my head.
Which I fucking am, though the contact provides some comfort.
She’s here and she’s supportive, even if she doesn’t know the whole truth.
I’d imagine she has suspicions about why we’re here, practically stalking someone I claimed to have ran into at a coffee shop, an old friend I meant to connect better with before he rushed off, but she hasn’t pushed me on the subject.
She also didn’t recognize the name, and she’s been my friend our whole lives.
The fact that we’re so close to seeing him, to finding Marlo, has me feeling bolder.
It’s only fair to tell her … something.
Right?
I open my mouth with all the courage I can muster and—
“IDs, please.”
Fuck.