Chapter Twenty-One
SUNNY
It’s nights like tonight where I’m grateful I don’t work the night shift. Halloween already gets crazy, factoring in the full moon is a recipe for a chaotic time.
So, I stand outside of my work, bundled and hyper aware of my surroundings as I wait for Sam to pick me up.
While it’s gotten only slightly better, I still find myself looking around at every movement, each person who comes from the darkness to go inside the hospital. It’s a hard feeling to shake when you’re convinced someone is always watching you.
Sam pulls up in her purple jeep wrangler, beating with music while Macey sits in the passenger side.
“Get in, you sexy nurse!” Sam chants through her rolled down window.
I hop inside while Man! I Feel Like a Woman by Shania Twain plays in the car.
They both turn back to look at me, revealing a glimpse of their well thought out costumes.
Mace is wearing cat ears, her face painted with whiskers and a cat nose.
Sam has devil light up horns and dark smokey makeup with black lipstick.
“Well you guys look fantastic,” I say, buckling my seatbelt.
“Tonight, we are all gonna get a piece of some ass.” Sam puts the car in drive and takes off into the night.
Ten minutes later, we’re pulling up to a warehouse type building named Curfew. People moving in and out of it are dressed in various costumes. Sam tosses her keys to the valet, and we’re led inside.
Different colored lights scatter across the warehouse as masked and painted faces whisk around. The air is filled with sweat, alcohol and sex. Sam drags us through the crowds with our arms linked as we bump into sweaty bodies.
“Where are the guys?” I ask.
“On the rooftop,” Sam answers.
Somehow, we manage to make it through the masses of costumes and onto the cool rooftop, which serves as relief from the sweaty heat inside the club.
There isn’t much up here except for a few chairs and fire pits that can be mistaken as trash cans.
It’s quieter, calmer, which is something I soon realize I need after just a few minutes in the chaos of Curfew.
Approaching the guys is a treat, seeing what they all bring to the table for costumes. It doesn’t surprise me when Anthony turns, revealing the iconic hangover costume. Sunglasses, baby holder with an old doll in it and the clothes to match.
A genuine laugh leaves my lips, because only Anthony would pull this off perfectly. Cole stays in Cole fashion, with simple dog ears as his only effort for a costume.
“Where’s Tyler?” I ask.
“Right behind you,” he whispers, making my heart skip a beat and my body react, unsure of whether to be scared or relieved. He places his hands on my shoulders, heavy in the most comforting way as he stabilizes my shaking body. “Hi, little fire,”
I turn around to face him, seeing his costume on full display. A half painted face like a skull, one side the predator, the other the human. A black hoodie and dark jeans.
“Where the hell have you been?” Sam asks.
“Someone has to work around here.” He grins.
In what world is an outfit like this used for work?
Sam arches a brow. “Sure. If work is code for laid.”
Tyler's jaw flexes as his eyes briefly fall to me and then back to his sister. “Don’t talk about things you don’t know, Sam.”
“An outfit like that doesn’t call for business,” she counters.
“Your end of business and mine are totally different things.” He stares at her blankly. “Consider yourself lucky for that.”
What once was a lighthearted night has quickly grown heavy. The shift in everyone is prevalent. His tone changes, and everyone else does, too. Nothing else is said as he leans against the edge of the rooftop, bracing his forearms on the ledge, looking at the city.
By whatever confidence I’ve just gained, I say, “So maybe we should go dance?” I don’t want to dance. Hell, I’d be content staying up here all night, trying to find stars through the light pollution if I had my way.
“My love language!” Sam says, skipping towards me, linking our arms together.
She grabs Macey, leading us off the rooftop. Looking behind me, I see Tyler watching me run off with his sisters, his arms crossed over his chest and a smile hooking the corner of his mouth, curving that scar I want to kiss.
I can’t like you, Tyler.
Eventually, the guys follow after, because where we go, they go. Strobe lights dance around us as Roses by the Chain Smokers fills the venue.
As we navigate the building, I end up behind Tyler. His broad back serves as a shield through the chaos of people. The hoodie still hangs around his head and clings to his muscles in all the best ways. I tack it on to the ever-growing list of favorite looks on him.
The urge to place a finger and trace all the lines that build him takes over. As if I’ve lost control over my own body, that ache and need persists. My heart hammers in my chest, making it all seem in slow motion as my body reaches for his while we stalk through the crowd.
Somehow, a voice filters through the music and people, catching his attention. Just as he turns his head to whoever calls for him, Sam grabs my arm, pulling me into the dancing crowd. Soon enough, he disappears, relieving me from a lapse in judgement and a mistake that could’ve been made.
“Hey!” Sam squeals to someone nearby.
Standing before us is a tall man with jet black hair and ice blue eyes.
Damn.
“Connor, I want you to meet my new bestie, Sunny.” Sam motions with her arms out, presenting me like a prize.
She wasted no time.
“I’m Sunny.” I reach my hand out.
Smiling, he takes it in his. “Connor. I get the gist that you’re actually a nurse.”
“What gave it away? The mess of the hair or the bags under my eyes?”
He chuckles. “All I see is a beautiful girl.”
Before I’m able to respond, Sam links her arm in mine and drags me to another spot on the dance floor.
“Hey!”
“I think we found you a fuck buddy. Gotta make him work for it! Connor is hot and already seems intrigued by you,” Sam says. “Plus he’s rich.”
Maybe I am not ready. It’s only been barely two and a half months since Ryan. How can the time feel so long yet so short?
After some time on the dance floor, Connor is summoned to my side with a hand reached out. “Mind if I cut in?”
“Not one bit.” Sam winks and flips her hair while she drags Macey away.
I look up at Connor with a smile. In the corner of my eye, Tyler stands up straighter, adjusting himself so that we are in his direct line of sight.
“I have to warn you, I am not a very good dancer,” I admit.
“By the looks of it, I’d have to say otherwise.” He grabs my hand, bringing me closer to him.
“So observant.”
“It’s hard not to be with you in the room.”
When I look up, Tyler is in the background, settling himself against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Despite the girl talking to him, his eyes are on me. I swallow back the guilt knotting in my throat.
He already knows where I stand anyways. He knows that I’m leaving. I just want a fling if I even want anything at all.
Tyler can’t be just a fling.
He tilts his head, so animalistic as he watches me. I rip my eyes from his, though I still feel them on me. I always do.
The strobe lights hit Connor's face as he smiles down at me. For a brief moment, it feels good to just have fun, act young and stupid for a few moments. I never went through the phase most do in their twenties with random late-night hookups and flings. I deserve this part of my life.
As I dance with Connor, it’s impossible to fight the instinct of my eyes moving where Tyler still stands. His eyes are no longer on me, but the girl standing in front of him. My eyes fall where her hand rests too comfortably on his chest.
Why does it bother me?
I can’t explain why I feel the way I feel. It was just a fucking kiss. No more, no less. I don’t have a monopoly over him because of it. He’s young, wealthy, successful, and very attractive. He deserves to have as much fun as I do.
Those emeralds flick up to me, a smirk pulling at his lips
Looking at Connor who still has his eyes on me, I plaster a smile as I slowly glide my hands up his arms, feeling the cords of muscles along the way. He tugs me closer where I can smell the cedarwood of his cologne with a touch of sweat. Warm, but so unfamiliar.
In the dim background, Tyler watches us intently. I can feel his eyes on me even if I’m not looking.
Am I making you jealous, Tyler?
The smile he had dissipates with a flex of his jaw. The girl in front of him runs a hand up his chest, trying to regain his attention. He snatches her wrist, his eyes flicking to her as he murmurs something and then moves his focus back to me, fuming with wild rage.
I bring my attention back to Connor, trying to re-emerge myself in the moment. To allow myself this after denying myself for so long. So I force a smile, place my hand on his chest and try to combat the memories that are fighting for my attention.
Connor grabs my hand, spinning me around so that my ass is pressed to his groin. It’s evident his plans for me considering the bulge I feel pressing into me. We sway back and forth as he tilts my head to the side—exposing my scar.
My body stiffens, but Connor has no clue into my body cues as he continues to try and nuzzle his way to the sensitive skin of my neck. My heart thrums against my chest in panic, pumping it through my veins like ice, freezing me in place.
I know it isn’t his fault. It’s mine. I am not ready for this.
The strobe lights dance around relentlessly, making my vision blind and compromised.
In the haze of my spiraling thoughts, I see Tyler pushing through the mess of people.
My perfect predator, ready to come claim his prey.
His voice filters through the music and crowd, thawing the fear that once wrapped around my bones, leaving me frozen, and once again I can move.
I don’t even need to look behind me to know it’s him. I feel a sense of ease come over my body at the familiarity of his own.
Connor's body is replaced with Tyler’s after a few indistinct murmurs.
It doesn’t take long before those scarred hands are gripping my hips, moving up my arms and wrapping around my neck.
My head leans back into his chest, flushing our bodies together like two puzzle pieces that actually fit. That are supposed to fit.
“Eyes on me, little fire.”
Gently, he tilts my head, exposing my scar. He is not only trying to prove something to himself, but to me, too, as he places his warm lips on the tender flesh.
“Funny how your body just wants mine,” he murmurs. He grabs my arm, dragging me through the crowds as we navigate our way to the rooftop into the cold October night.