Chapter 16
Chapter sixteen
“Appreciate you coming out, mate,” Tuck says, as we both nurse an untouched beer in front of us.
I bob my head in response. “Whenever you need me, you know I’m there.”
“Seeing Raven just brought up so many memories of Camille. She looks so much like her. I wasn’t ready for it.” Tuck’s niece just moved to Heart City. He and Riley were helping her get settled into her apartment, and all night, he was struck by moments where she resembled his late wife.
“Will you be okay?” I ask, looking over at my friend.
Both arms are full of ink, but unlike mine, they’re full of colour.
His black and grey hair is styled off his face, beard neatly trimmed.
Even when Tuck feels like shit, he always looks sharp.
It’s part of his routine. When he was in the early stages of grief, he’d tell himself to keep waking up and start the day.
You’d never go to Tuck’s house and find his bed unmade.
That just invited you to get back in and wallow, he once told me.
Plus, his wife always called him her beautiful man, so he keeps it up for her.
“Yeah. I’m happy Raven’s here. Who knows, maybe it’ll be good for me.”
I clap my hand on his back. “If you need me, just call.”
Tuck nods, then steps off the stool, and I do the same. We step outside, say our goodbyes, and start to head in opposite directions when a bright yellow car rolls down the street. I know someone who drives a car like that, but what would she be doing here at this time?
I watch Isabelle slow down and then pull to a stop in front of Nella Notte.
She checks her phone, then pulls down the driveway that leads to the main entrance behind the club.
I’m almost running down the street to get to where my car is parked, and retrieving a bag that’s stowed under the passenger seat to grab my mask before backtracking to the club.
My mind is spinning with all the reasons she could be here. I’ve never seen her here before. I never thought I’d see her here, of all places.
I check in with Anja, leaving my keys and phone, and pick a red wristband.
Making my way to the curtains, I pull the sleeves of my Henley down, covering my tattoos as best I can.
I wonder if she’ll recognise me? My heart thumps at the prospect, not knowing if I’m more intrigued by her knowing it’s me or having a moment where I can play pretend.
Let myself be someone that she’d talk to with any kind of real interest. That still makes me wonder what the hell brought her here tonight.
As I draw nearer to the bar, the sounds gradually change from sultry music to the gentle hum of laughter and seductive conversations.
The occasional moans of ecstasy filter from behind the curtains of the daybeds that line the bar floor, everything happening behind them only visible if you venture into the observation halls.
Just the sounds of pleasure act as an aphrodisiac meant to entice those still mingling on this side of the curtains.
I stop the second I reach the end of the hallway, watching as Isabelle sits on a stool at the end of the bar. No one’s sitting next to her, which I’m relieved about, but the red band that sits on her wrist could be why. Observing Only.
Her hair is straight, those beautiful curls gone, and her black dress is different from her usual style—the cute, whimsical patterns she favours and the soft, but bright colours.
She’s so enticing, and I’m sure she has no idea of the power it holds.
It’s a quiet kind of confidence that she possesses.
As I pass behind her, the scent of spicy citrus and soft rose muddies my senses. My thoughts spin in a daze, almost making me forget what I’m doing. I manage to sit on a stool, leaving one free in between us. From the corner of my eye, I see her freeze as she notices me.
“Lemon, lime, and bitters,” I say to the bartender, keeping my eyes straight ahead.
I can see Isabelle’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar. I stare transfixed as she tilts her head, studying me straight back.
“Observed anything interesting tonight?” I say, loud enough for Isabelle to know I’m talking to her.
I see her flinch, then whip her head around, only now, she’s looking straight at me through the mirror. I smirk, the look appearing even more menacing with my mask. The eyes and hollowed out cheeks look pronounced as the light reflects from where they’re lined with neon green paint.
“Sorry,” she says, almost breathless.
“Don’t be. That’s what we’re here for.” I hold up my wrist, showing her my own red band. “Right?”
She looks down at her wrist. “Right.”
“I haven’t noticed you here before.”
The bartender places my drink in front of me. “Another water for you, Miss Henry?”
Henry? Isabelle’s last name is Asher. Holy shit, is she using my name as a disguise? Does that mean she knows I come here, or was that a fluke?
“I’ll have what he’s having.” She tips her chin to the drink in my hand.
My lips pull on one side as I bring the glass to my mouth and take a sip.
“To answer your question, this is my first time here,” she says.
I nod slowly, still watching her in the mirror as she picks up the stone on her chain and starts running it back and forth again. I wonder if that’s a nervous habit.
“What about you? Do you come here a lot?”
I drum my fingers against the counter, then turn my head to face her. Her blue eyes flare for a second as they meet mine. They look particularly enchanting tonight, lined with metallic grey shadow and long, dark lashes.
“I’ve been a member for a few years,” I say evenly.
Her hand stalls on her necklace, shoulders dropping ever so slightly, as if she’s disappointed by the answer. Could it be that she doesn’t like the thought of me with someone else?
I’ll admit, the thought of her with someone sets me somewhat on edge. The way I crave to know what she’s like when she’s intimate with someone. The ways she might open up. Is she shy? Quiet? Or does that sense of curiosity she carries grow tenfold?
I shift in my seat, my cock twitching at what I could teach her. Show her. I take another sip of my drink, trying to taper the heat that invades my skin.
“Are you always an observer?”
I look down at the band then back at her, lifting a shoulder. “Sometimes.”
Isabelle rests an elbow on the counter, leaning forward. “What other colours have you worn?”
“Black.”
“What does that one mean?”
I direct my eyes to the cocktail menu sitting on the bartop. It has a list of drinks, but down the side, it also lists each of the wristbands, in case people change their minds once they’re in here.
I notice the moment her eyes find black on the menu. Looking for sex only. Her thighs squeeze together, and I have to bite down on my lip to hinder the groan that’s begging to slip out.
“Your drink, Miss Henry.”
Isabelle takes a gulp the second the drink is placed in front of her. I push my own along the counter, then move into the seat right beside her.
“What made you want to try Nella Notte, Miss Henry?” I ask, leaning close.
“I heard about it through a friend.” My brows pinch together, wondering who that might have been.
“And what exactly did they tell you?”
She shrugs, looking at me from under her lashes. Bashful looks cute as fuck on her, but damn, do I want to see a bit more of her confidence.
“You can tell me,” I murmur. “What was it that pushed you over the edge, to see for yourself?”
“I thought I might learn something new.”
“How much can you learn when you’re only observing?” I ask.
Taking a chance, I run a finger over her wristband, careful not to touch any skin. She gasps, her chest hitching, making my eyes dart down to the tempting glimpse of her cleavage, perfectly pushed up in her dress. Fuck, she’s stunning.
“Excuse me,” she says over my shoulder. “Could I please change my band?”
My heart thuds in my chest, blood rushing to my ears. I keep my eyes trained on her face as I sense the bartender switching her band over. When she places her hand back down on the bartop, I notice the red band has been replaced with a white one. Observing but open.
I turn my head. The bartender’s still standing there waiting with the box. I nod my head and give him my wrist.
“Is that better?” she asks. Devious amusement coats her words, and my body lights up from her boldness. I’m enjoying this playful side of her, but I wonder how far I can tempt her.
“Depends.”
Isabelle swivels in her chair, one leg crossed over the other as she faces me and leans in. “On what?”
I match her stance, placing my feet on the rung of her stool and bracketing her in between my open thighs.
“Did you change that for me? Or anyone here tonight?”
“Maybe it was just for you.”
I lean in, so our faces are just inches apart. “Good.”
“What about you?”
“I’m definitely only interested in you. If I hadn’t noticed you sitting here, I would have gone home already.”
She doesn’t need to know I first noticed her in her car, driving up to the building.
Or that I sprinted over here so fast, I probably left my car unlocked with the doors wide open.
She definitely doesn’t need to know that I’m well aware of who she really is, but she seems to be enjoying our game, and so am I.
“And… do you plan on doing anything about that?” she asks.
My eyes drop down to her lips. Kissing has never been my thing, but right now, it’s all I can think about. The first time I kiss Isabelle, I want her to know it’s me. Not that I was expecting there to be a first time, but I wasn’t expecting anything like tonight either.
“Do you trust me?” I whisper.
Without hesitation, she nods. I stand from the stool and hold out my hand. The second her soft skin touches me, tingles dance up my forearm, through my belly, and all the way down to my toes.