She wanted to argue but as the suit stood and made his way over to us, Bonnie took two steps back until I was the barrier between her and the potential suitor. “That’s not true,” she hissed in my ear. “Do something!”
I took the shot from Colby, the totally hot bartender, with a wink and a smile and knocked it back before heading out onto the dance floor, leaving Bonnie to deal with the approaching hottie in a suit. It was my birthday, my official grown up birthday, which meant I was a free woman.
It was time to celebrate and as the music played, shifting from a sexy Latin beat to a bass heavy hip hop song that had become one of my favorites, I let go and let the music move through my body. I didn’t pay attention to all the wannabes who stepped up to me, too timid to ask me to dance but not skilled enough to just join me. So I danced. I twirled and spun, twerked, and whipped my hair because it was my day, my night, my life. And I planned to enjoy it.
Soon enough the real world would creep in and I’d have to decide if I wanted to stay in Nevada or go back to Texas. Or maybe I’d go somewhere else altogether. Those were decisions meant for another night.
“I can’t believe you left me with that guy!” Bonnie’s appearance at my side broke through my reverie and I smiled, taking her hands in mine, and forcing her body to sway to the beat.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” she admitted reluctantly over the music. “He’s cute. Thirty. Baptist.”
“Oh, the horror!” I teased. Bonnie was determined to find a good Catholic man because that was what her mom and dad told her to do, but I was determined for her to find the right man, religious affiliation be damned. No pun, or whatever. “Did you give him your number?”
“I did. What if he doesn’t call? What if Wyatt finds out?”
I snorted at her second question because it would be mean to tell her that Wyatt didn’t give a shit about her, just her family connections.
“If he doesn’t call by the end of the weekend, I’ll make your favorite Texas cornbread chili. If you think you’ll still need it.” I glanced down at her tits and Bonnie burst out laughing, wrapping an arm around me as we danced to the electronic beat.
“I think I owe all of my cleavage to that chili. You might get a kid named after you for that alone.”
I barked out a laugh but my attention was caught—literally caught—in the gaze of a gorgeous man with thick chocolate hair, making him appear much more approachable than the scowl marring his beautiful features. He was all man, tall and lean with a purposeful stride that reminded me a lot of two of my uncles, Golden Boy and Wheeler. He had that kind of powerful air about him and I couldn’t look away.
“Oh boy, here we go again.” Bonnie’s tone pulled my attention but my gaze followed the man around the VIP section. He could be meeting someone, possibly a female someone, but the way his gaze kept shifting to mine and then away, said otherwise.
“We’re not going anywhere, except to the bar for another drink and then back to the dance floor.”
“I’ve seen that look you get when you’ve lasered in on a target. That guy doesn’t stand a chance.”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “While I appreciate the vote of confidence, there’s a good chance that hottie is looking for someone of the not me variety.” It really was too bad because he was sex on a stick. Muscles that looked as lethal as that thousand-yard stare and I could see hints of ink under his gray Henley, another thing that made him stand out in a club filled with twenty-something men who were more stylish than the women who’d gone all out to stand out.
“Looks more like the exactly you variety,” she grumbled and tugged me off the dance floor. “Another drink?”
“Yes, please. Your Bahama Mama looked good. I’ll have one of those but no virgin drink for me, just the slutty kind,” I told her and made my way to the bathroom to freshen up. Nothing was more relaxing than shaking my ass to a sweet beat, but damn, it highlighted how much I needed to add some cardio to my life. Just thinking of cardio turned my thoughts back to sex, which I’d been without for far too long, and that got me thinking about the hottie in the Henley. Again.
He was the kind of hot that made a girl do stupid things without thinking twice about it. He was the kind of dangerous and delicious combination that usually ended in a true crime documentary, but damn, what a way to go! Okay, that sounded kind of crazy and desperate and I was neither of those things. But growing up around burly bikers made it hard to find college boys anything but playthings.