Chapter Four – Laina #2
Kelly dragged me to a club when I first got out, when I wasn’t quite ready for it.
I remembered she’d danced with Kieran, and I’d gotten so upset I had to storm out—and Mike had come with me.
It was the first time I felt the connection between Mike and I snap into place.
For such a big, strong man, he had a soft side to him when no one was looking.
I wished he was here with us. His presence always calmed me down.
We headed deep into the club, to the dancing crowd, where the music was so loud you couldn’t think straight, where you could hear it pound inside your bones, in your very soul.
We arranged ourselves in a makeshift circle, dancing with each other, but it wasn’t long before some of us gained nameless guys behind us, grinding as we twerked and shook our bodies.
Some of her friends got into it way more once there were guys behind them. I played my part, although I got no joy whatsoever out of feeling whoever it was start to get excited behind me. Hard dicks gave me a thrill only when they belonged to my guys, not some stranger.
Eventually I needed something to drink, so I excused myself by wordlessly slipping away—the guy behind me didn’t mind.
There were other girls he could grind on.
I made it to the bar and caught the bartender’s attention, then I had to shout since the music was so damned loud: “Can I get a glass of water, please?”
Listen to me and my manners. I was proud of myself.
As the bartender got me what I wanted, I turned around and leaned on the edge of the bar, surveying the club.
So many people, all around my age. If I didn’t already have three boyfriends, I supposed I’d be looking for someone to go home with, or someone to bring home with me.
There were a good number of guys, yes, but none of them really drew my attention.
Some were cute, but they were missing something.
What was it? What were all these guys missing?
Hard lines on their face. Intense expressions. The kind of thing that only came with age and experience. These guys did not draw my attention because they weren’t my type. Clearly, your girl Laina had a thing for older men, and a club like this was not the place to…
Right when I had that thought, it was like everything snapped to a halt.
I saw someone standing on the opposite balcony, wearing all black.
Though there was a good forty or so feet between us, the flashing lights showed me enough: tattoos.
Loads and loads of tattoos… and a head of thick silver hair.
My curiosity meter was instantly charged, just like that. An older man here? What were the odds?
The man stood up there, with his arms on the railing, surveying the club much like I was just doing. Though we were not exactly close, when his gaze landed on me, I sucked in a breath; I couldn’t help it. Even from far away, I could tell he was a good-looking guy.
Behind me, the bartender set down my drink in a plastic cup, and before I could think better of it, I grabbed it and moved through the people, to the upper balcony on the other side of the club. If someone were to ask me why I was going, I wouldn’t have an answer. I didn’t know why, I just had to.
Up the steps I went. A few groups were scattered amongst the balcony, drinking and laughing. None went near the man that had my attention; it was like the man had an aura around him, an invisible force field that kept people at bay.
Or maybe everyone was just as confused and intrigued as me, only they didn’t have the balls to approach him.
The closer I got to him, the more I understood why that might’ve been.
He didn’t just have tattoos—he had blackout tattoos.
Meaning, every part of his skin was covered in ink, at least on his neck, left arm, and hand.
I’d bet anything that blackout tattoo continued beneath his shirt and connected the part on his neck to his left arm.
His right arm had a full sleeve, and I wasn’t close enough to tell what all the designs were.
Tattoos were hot. Combine tattoos with my other weakness, older men, and I was a goner, apparently.
I moved to stand next to him, though I was careful to leave a good five inches between our arms as I leaned on the railing much as he was. A part of me was afraid if I checked him out from this close, I might just burst into flames. Still, I had to say something.
“You seem out of place here,” I remarked, giving him the side-eye as I took a small sip of my water. Even the guy’s profile was nice. His hair was thick, one hundred percent gray—or silver, depending on the light—yet he didn’t look that old.
I mean, way older than me, sure, but not like he was sixty or anything. I’d put him in his forties. Late forties. Either way, the man gave a new definition to the word attractive.
He was measured in turning toward me, and I realized then that the man was at least six feet tall—and the craziest part was, when he looked at me, when those dark eyes of his met my stare and held me in place, he looked almost familiar, like I’d seen him before.
But I hadn’t. I would definitely remember a man with a face card like his. Phew. Suddenly I understood all those memes about women fanning themselves when thinking about a man.
He didn’t say anything right away. Those black eyes of his dropped, taking me in with an intense expression that might make others shrink away. Me? I didn’t shrink. I stood there, as tall as I could muster with my short stature, letting the stranger check me out.
Finally, he spoke, and though the music was still way too loud, his voice was deep enough it sent shivers down my spine in a way the cool nighttime air wished it could, “What gave me away?” The way he said it, he had to have been well-aware what gave him away.
I took another sip of my water. “The same thing that drew me up here. What’s someone like you doing in a place like this? Looking for a college girl to take home? Have a thing for young girls?”
Who was I kidding? I couldn’t judge him, even if that’s why he was here. Look at who I was dating—three older men. The same thing could be said of them, although I would argue circumstances were different.
The circumstances were always different, though.
“Can’t say I do,” he remarked, still studying me with an expression I could only label as furiously intense. “Why are you here? Looking for a college boy to take you home for the night?”
Maybe it was just my penchant for older men, but even though his tone wasn’t flirty, that was the vibe I got from him. I broke our heavy eye contact to survey the club, and I spotted Kelly and her friends down below, dancing to their hearts’ content, with nameless guys behind them.
“No,” I said. “College boys aren’t really my type.”
“What is your type, then?”
I smiled, though I didn’t really smile at anyone in particular.
“I like them a little weird, and if they’re supposed to be off-limits to me, well, that’s a bonus.
” I stopped myself from telling him I liked older men; that felt a little too flirty on my side.
This guy might’ve been my kind of man, but I couldn’t forget, I already had three boyfriends. I didn’t need to bring home a fourth.
Although I did wonder what my three guys would say if I tried.
The man checked me out again. “You’re very… pink.”
“Yeah, I am. Pink’s my favorite color.”
“I never would’ve guessed.” His response was dry, and yet…
I detected a hint of sarcasm in it. Then his gaze dropped to my left hand, which hung limply at my side—I was careful to hold onto the cup with my right, so my metal fingers wouldn’t be on display.
All those times checking me out, he must’ve noticed them. “What’s with the hand?”
I lifted up my left hand and wiggled my fingers between us, showing him that the metal ones did, in fact, bend. The contraption that was attached to a pretty bracelet wasn’t just for show. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
This guy, whoever he was, must not have been from around here. A lot of people recognized me, even now. Being the mayor’s daughter was one thing, but being the mayor’s daughter who was kidnapped for two years was another. I did have some fame left, apparently.
“Try me” was his response, a challenge in two words.
And if you knew me, you knew I never backed down from a challenge. Not anymore. Telling someone you knew about your secrets was one thing, but a stranger who didn’t even know your name? A completely different thing. Who better to know the truth than this man I’d never met before?
I said, “I had to tell a story, so I cut them off myself.”
See, that’s where a normal person would’ve blinked, at least. A normal person would have reacted in shock or surprise, but not this guy. All this guy did was gaze down at me as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“The story you wanted to tell, how did it end?” he asked.
“Maybe it’s still going.”
“Hmm.” His chest hummed in response, and for a while, neither one of us said anything more. We stood there, staring at each other as something strange, unspoken, passed between us. I was locked in place, pinned like a butterfly in one of those displays, preserved forever.
There was something about this guy that was familiar, something that drew me in—and it wasn’t just the tattoos or that he was older. It was something else, something I couldn’t put my finger on just yet.
I should’ve walked away from him, let my curiosity be. Nothing good would come of this, and yet I couldn’t force myself to turn away from him. I was the one who broke the silence between us by asking, “So if you aren’t here to pick up a college girl or two, why are you here?”