“Shelby had to cancel too. Her dad needed her to babysit. Are you sure you don’t need me to come over?”
“No, there’s nothing you could do here, and I’m almost positive Corrine would kill me if I allowed anyone to see her in her current state. Besides, there’s no reason for you girls to be stuck in on your last night in New York. Go. Have a good time…but not too good of a time,” he adds, and I roll my eyes.
“Fine, but we’ll see you before we leave tomorrow, right?”
“Damn right you will. We’re still meeting for breakfast after you check out. I moved my meeting back to the afternoon, so I can take you to the airport myself. You know I’m still annoyed you insisted on staying at a hotel instead of with me.”
“Dad…” I groan. “You downsized. Your two-bedroom condo is beautiful, but it’s not big enough for us women and our luggage.” I giggle, and he grunts. My dad finally made the decision to sell our family home and buy a condo closer to the stadium in Lower Manhattan since he will be spending a lot of his time there.
“I know, I know. I’ll see you in the morning,” he says.
“Okay, Dad. Tell Corrine I hope she feels better soon.”
“Will do.”
“What happened?” Giselle asks once I end the phone call.
“Corrine has food poisoning, and Shelby is stuck babysitting. I guess it’s just us.”
“Well, that sucks! But we’re going to have a fabulous time.”
We approach the bouncer and, after paying the cover charge, enter the club. We aren’t even down the hall when Giselle’s name is called.
She turns around, yells, “Oh my God,” and then runs into a man’s arms.
“Christian, this is my best friend, Livi; Livi, this is Christian. We dated for a while in high school.” Her cheeks flush pink, and I remember her telling me about the guy she left in New York to move to Paris. He’s now the lead singer of some huge band here in the U.S.
“Nice to meet you.” Christian shakes my hand. “Are you back for good?” he asks Giselle.
“Actually, this is our last night here.”
“Then you have to give me tonight,” he says forward as ever, causing Giselle’s pink-colored cheeks to deepen to a dark crimson.
She glances my way, and I nod my encouragement. “Go and catch up. I’ll order us a couple of drinks and bring them over.”
“Are you sure?” Giselle asks.
“Yes! Go! Christian, would you like something to drink?”
“I’m good, but thanks,” he says, “I have my beer over at my table. It’s in the back corner just behind the bar. I spotted Giselle and didn’t want to take a chance of losing her in the crowd.” Christian gives her a soft smile. “I can’t believe after all this time we ran into each other here.”
Giselle smiles back. “I know…it’s been a long time.”
“Okay, I’ll get us drinks and then find you guys,” I say, wanting to give them some privacy. They obviously have a lot of catching up to do.
Giselle throws her arms around me in a tight hug and whispers, “Go find a guy to get under.” I just shake my head. Earlier, she told me the best way to get over a break up is to get under someone else. I love Giselle to death, but she’s freaking crazy.
She and Christian head to a booth nearby, and I go to the bar to order us a drink. The club is packed, and the bartenders seem to be picking and choosing who they’re serving. I attempt to get their attention, waving my bill in the air, but it’s not happening.
Just as I’m about to give up and go beg Giselle to dance on the bar to get their attention, I feel a whisper of a breath in my ear. “Can I buy you a drink?” I turn slightly to see who the owner of the voice is and find myself staring at one of the most sexiest men I’ve ever laid eyes on. Messy light brown hair that looks like he just climbed out of bed, dark green eyes that scream trouble, and day-old scruff that has me clenching my legs together as I imagine his face buried between my thighs. I back up slightly to get a better look at him. He’s built but not bulky—lean and fit. He’s dressed in an expensive light green button-down shirt that makes his eyes pop even more.
My eyes drag back up to his face and land on his cocky grin, telling me he knows how hot he is. He knows he can get any woman he wants, and that look has me wanting to show him that not every woman bows down to guys like him. When I politely tell him I can buy my own drink, he laughs, and the melodic yet masculine sound has my insides melting. He shoots one glance over to the bartender near us, and she comes running our way. Of course he has no problem getting the female bartender’s attention.