Chapter Three
Lyla
After a while, the group of guys that Spencer was flirting with heads over to the beautiful iron spiral staircase that sits off to the left of the bar, and Spencer, without hesitation, grabs my hand, pulling us along behind them.
“Spencer.” I try to object and pull free of her grasp. She only grabs on tighter, damn near dragging me. “We don’t even know where they’re going. What if it’s a members-only room? You know, the ones you said we couldn’t go to?”
Spencer snorts dramatically. “Come on, Lyla! If it is, then they’ll just turn us away, not kick us out. Live a little!” She begins pulling me toward the staircase again, and this time, I don’t object.
Ascending the staircase, I can hear the music pouring out, mixing with loud voices from the lower level. The music coming from above is different. It’s louder, the bass is heavier, and the alcohol running through my veins is making me want to dance.
As we get to the top of the staircase and the room opens up, I can see why the music has me wanting to dance along…
It’s a giant dance floor. Makes perfect sense.
It’s packed with people, but not to the point where you can’t make your way through.
There’s a large bar against the left wall, near the staircase where we are.
There’s a circular platform suspended from the ceiling in the center of the room, where several masked women dance together.
Their hands roam one another curiously as they sway.
There are also four small, round, elevated stages in each corner, with half-naked women seductively dancing on them.
The way they’re moving and swaying to the beat is definitely scandalous, and sets the vibe for the entire room.
Spencer pushes her way through the crowd, with her hand still firmly wrapped around my wrist, dragging me behind her.
We end up at the bar with the same group of guys that we met downstairs.
After throwing back another round of drinks, which one of them bought for us, thanks to Spencer's flirting, we then somehow end up on the dance floor.
“I can’t dance!” I shout to be heard over the music pulsing through the air. “You know this.”
“Yes, you can. You’re just too in your head all the time.
Leave your mind, and just enjoy.” Spencer waves off my words and starts swaying to the beat, moving her hips side to side while roaming her hands over her body, placing one of her hands on my hips, encouraging me to move along with her. “It’s one night, remember?”
“One night,” I mumble to myself. Awkwardly, I follow her lead. “I may need another shot for this,” I giggle.
“Hell no, you’ve got it,” Spencer encourages with a smile.
Looking around the room at the other women dancing confidently, I let the alcohol do its job, giving me that push of courage to keep going.
Trying to follow along with all the other women in the room, I find myself laughing and actually enjoying myself. I’m dancing, and I feel sexy doing it. Which is weird for me. I never feel sexy. I’m entirely too self-conscious and unsure of myself for that.
After a while of dancing, Spencer shouts over the new song, gaining my attention. “Hey!”
“Yeah?” I ask, now dancing freely, enjoying myself, and I sway my hips from side to side.
She nudges her head toward the bar. “See that guy, perched against the bar with his focus on me?” I look in that direction and then nod, letting out a laugh, already knowing what she’s up to. “Let’s go talk to him, I’ll see if I can score us another round of free drinks.”
Spencer is so bold and unbothered—she’s never been afraid to use her beauty to her advantage. Meanwhile, there’s me. I’m the polar opposite of her in that department. Although we’re so different in so many ways, we’ve always seemed to just click.
Grabbing my wrist, yet again, Spencer pushes through the body of people, and we make our way over toward the guy at the bar.
“Do you like what you see?” she asks the guy, and I laugh to myself under my breath.
The song switches, and I’m able to hear the guy say, “Actually, I do.”
I don’t pay them much mind. Spencer will get her way. She always has when it comes to men. Instead, I look on at the women dancing on the descending platform in the center of the room. I’m almost mesmerized by their confidence and the way they own it so effortlessly. I wish I could be like—
Pulled from my thoughts, Spencer taps my shoulder. “Lyla.” I look her way, and she motions toward the man she just approached.
My gaze darts up to his face… what appears to be a gorgeous face, hidden behind a mask.
He’s tall, thinly built, with a defined, chiseled jaw.
His platinum blonde hair, so light it almost looks white, is long and fringed on top, while tapered short on the sides.
He’s wearing an all-black suit, no tie, with the first two buttons of his shirt undone, showing some of his chest. His black shirt sleeves are cuffed around his muscular, veiny forearms. He’s covered in tattoos from the tips of his fingers to the base of his neck, showing off the ones on his chest with the way his shirt is undone.
He’s wearing a black mask that covers his nose and most of his face, but I don’t miss the way his crystal blue eyes are locked on me.
“Huh?” I ask, confused, swallowing hard, not sure what I missed, or what exactly is going on.
Spencer smirks, pulling me by the elbow to stand next to her, directly in front of the man. “This guy says he likes what he sees.” Her voice is smooth and flirty, and my confusion grows.
“Okayyy,” I drawl out. “Of course he does, you’re—”
Spencer leans in, whispering into my ear. “He isn’t looking at me, fool. He’s looking at you.”
I snort. “Why me?”
To my surprise, he’s the one who speaks up and says, “The better question is, why not you?”
I think the entire room hears my gulp as I swallow down my nerves this time.
The way his chuckle, mixed with his challenging rebuttal, sends a thrill through me only manages to annoy me.
“Lyla.” Spencer says my name as if to reprimand me. Leaning closer to my ear, she whispers, “One night, remember?”
“Ugh,” I groan in response, but she doesn’t hear me because she turns and walks away, flashing me a smile before disappearing further down the bar.
My eyes shoot up to the strange man whose sexy, smoldering stare is still fixed on me. His smug, closed-lip grin shouldn’t be as hot as it is—which only annoys me further.
“One night,” I murmur quietly to myself.