Vanessa groaned. “That fucking list. If I thought burning it would help, I’d do it.” She hooked her arm in mine and started walking toward the bar and dance floor. “I’m not saying you have to sleep with someone—”
“Oh, goodie.”
“—I’m saying you just need to have some fun. Talk. Flirt. Maybe a dance or two.” She dipped her head closer to mine. “It won’t kill you.”
“You do not know that. It might.”
“Let’s go, hot stuff. I’ve got a good feeling about tonight.”
I had to slow my steps to match hers. Her legs, on a normal day, were as long as mine, both of us above-average height (she was an inch shorter than my five nine, but consistently lied and said she was five ten), but tonight, she was wearing five-inch heels.
According to her, she wanted to be able to make out with the tall, hot musician without getting a crick in her neck. Seemed logical enough, but the sight of her knifelike heels made me wince. I’d allowed for a kitten heel and that was it. The faux-leather pants and the top that flowed around my midriff, allowing glimpses of my stomach, were enough adventure for me, thank you very much.
“I can’t even raise my arms too high, Ness,” I shouted, the volume getting louder as we neared the dance floor.
“Why not?”
I turned and showed her. “Underboob,” I cried. “I can’t show underboob in public.”
“Bitch, yes, you can.” Her face transformed into a wide, excited smile. “I see Christian. Do you want to come meet him?”
My mouth hung open as I took in the scene in front of me.
This wasn’t a normal bar on a normal Saturday night. We’d stepped into some alternate universe—glistening, beautiful people who did not exist in my normal sphere. I never paid too much attention to celebrity culture, but based on the presence of numerous security guards, and the sheer size of some of the men milling around—with cut jawlines and massive, muscular bodies—I was likely surrounded by them.
They were inked and hard-bodied. The women were stunning—all shiny hair and slinky dresses. Pink, purple, and blue lights flickered off writhing bodies on the dance floor, giving the room an intoxicating glow.
My chest tightened with nerves. “No, you go ahead. I’m going to find a seat at the bar until I feel a little bit less ... overwhelmed by the hotness.”
Ness laughed, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “I’ll allow it, as long as you promise to stay for one hour.” I opened my mouth, and she laid a finger over my lips. “And no, it doesn’t count if you sit in one place and don’t talk to anyone.”
I rolled my eyes, pulling her hand away from my mouth. “Fine, what’s my ticket out of here?”
She pursed her lips. “A good conversation. And a dance. You have to dance with someone.”
“Vanessa.”
“One dance.” She adopted an innocent expression. “That’s easy enough.”
I snorted. “Sure, it is. Maybe for you.”
She grabbed my face in both hands. “Foryou. You are a tall, gorgeous, leggy redhead with a great rack. Remi Sinclair is a grade-A hottie, even if she lives her day-to-day life in T-shirts and leggings and has forgotten her objective hotness because she thinks her entire life revolves around taking care of other people.”
That was the thing, though, wasn’t it? My entire lifedidrevolve around that. Setting that aside for fun, for frivolity, the innocent debauchery she spoke of, was a herculean task.
Even with two drinks in my bloodstream, lowering my inhibitions enough that I’d actually shown up, I battled the discomfort of what she was trying to say. Even if it was meant with all the love in the world, admitting that you’d lost something of yourself without realizing it wasn’t easy either.
Instead of admitting that, I narrowed my eyes. “Still doesn’t mean I remember how to dance like”—I pointed to the dance floor—“this.”
“I know what you were like in high school, Miss Sinclair, so don’t act like I’ve never seen you do this before.”
“You mean, before I got pregnant at seventeen?”
She smacked my ass. “Yup. Now, go find a seat and have another drink for courage.”
Without another word, she was gone in a whirl of pink hair, and I was left standing by myself in a place where I definitely didn’t belong.
If I were home, I’d be halfway through a chapter, Kindle almost falling on my face because I could hardly keep my eyes open for more than thirty minutes once I was lying in bed. That sounded nice, didn’t it?