Sawyer
Iwant to go to one of the bars on the outskirts of Greenville—the Back Room, or the Sidewinder, dives where nobody’s going to care who I am.
Max has other ideas.
He pulls up in front of my aunt’s house in a gray Honda Civic that looks like he had it washed, steps out of the car, and waves at the house with a big grin on his face. “Let’s go!” he shouts across the lawn. “The ladies are waiting!”
My aunt looks up from her book. My uncle used to sit in that recliner. After he died, she started sitting there all the time. She has a funny expression on her face. “Ladies?”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“You still have your key?”
I do. It’s the one with the red key cap on my ring. “I take good care of it.”
“Good to know.” An expression flickers red across her face, and for a second I wondered if she was going to ask me when I’m going to see my dad. “I don’t have to work tomorrow, so I’ll see you sometime then.”
I kiss her on the cheek and go.
Max punches me on the shoulder as I climb into the passenger seat. “Holy shit. You’re built. Did somebody break your heart?”
“Fuck off, Max.”
He just laughs. “What the hell are you doing in the city these days, anyway?”
I’ve known Max since middle school. And I might not give a shit how I make my money, but he will. “Working.”
“With plenty of time off to hit the weight room.”
“You know it.” The weight room, and a newer martial arts studio where they don’t know what I do for a living. And running. Because you can never be too prepared in my line of work.
Max drove past where we’d turn off for the Back Room, but when he drove past the turn for the Sidewinder without even slowing down, my jaw clenched tight.
“I thought we were going to the bar.”
Max turns his grin on me again. “We’re going somewhere better than the bar. Somewhere with hotter women. Somewhere with hotter women who love to dance.”
I close my eyes for a brief second. Christ. A dance club. The last place on earth I want to spend the evening.
But as I’m not a whiny asshole, I ride in silence.
The club is exactly what I expected. I walk past this kind of place every day in the city, though in the daytime they’re all closed. Max walks straight up to the bouncer, does some handshake routine, and then leads the way into the place.
We go through a narrow lobby with a coat check girl slouched behind a window, and then an even narrower hallway.
I can’t see shit around Max other than the pulsing lights, and in the hallway, the dance music refracts off of itself in an unholy din.
It’s crowded inside. Heat pours out of the room into the hallway.
I almost go for the coat check. In the middle of May, it’s cool enough to wear a jacket outside at night, but I guess Max knew what the hell he was doing, because he’s got a t-shirt on for our outing.
He steps into the main room of the club ahead of me, and I have to reach forward and prod him, interrupting his first scan of the area.
He steps to the right, his head turning toward one end of the club like he’s going to do a sweep for the hottest woman here, his gaze like some sci-fi laser bullshit.
I step in behind him.
It takes a few more seconds for my eyes to adjust. There are too many people. Too much movement. My fists clench by my side, and I have to work to relax them. Be ready, my brain whispers. Be ready.
I’m not ready when it happens.
The people on the dance floor shift, and it’s like they clear a path straight between me and a woman standing by herself near one of those tiny-ass tables that’s only good for a single drink at a time.
You couldn’t fit a basket for a burger on there along with a beer—not that they serve food like that here.
But I don’t give a shit about food. I don’t care about anything else.
Our eyes meet like in one of those bullshit chick flicks, and a line of lightning shoots down my back.
She’s wearing something dark—a dark dress?
—and the halter top presses up against full breasts like it was made for her.
The couple of inches of cleavage peeking out have my cock instantly hard against my jeans.
And something about the skirt of the dress, the way her hand goes down to tug it into place, makes me want to tear it off of her.
“Shit.” Max says it into my ear, and I realize he’s seen her, too. “She’s hot.”
She’s more than that. She’s gorgeous, and even in the middle of this club, she radiates innocence. A purity that I shouldn’t go near. Shouldn’t touch. I put a hand out in front of Max.
“She’s mine.”