Page 11 of Cruel Pleasures
“That doesn’t mean I’m some easy target. If that’s what you’re up to, then you can forget about it.”
“Your wallet.” He holds it up between two of his fingers, like it’s a card to swipe. “You forgot it at the bar counter. I wanted to make sure you got it back.”
I blink at him.
Shit. Imani, really?!?!
“Uh, thanks,” I mumble, taking my wallet and slipping it into my back pocket. “You could’ve just run off with it.”
“But then I wouldn’t get to buy you that drink.” His grin fills out his kind face and I remember why I had been so disarmed by him in the first place.
Kind eyes and sandy hair tucked under the ball cap he’s wearing.
I acquiesce to his request with a nod of my head.
My second margarita is pushed toward me only a moment later. I’m on the same bar stool making another attempt at an introduction with Kaden.
“So, Sasha,” he says, nursing the same half-full beef bottle. “Why are you showing up at the Isle the night before it closes?”
“I think that’s for me to know and you to mind your business.” I add a small smile that strikes a balance between sweet and sour. Then I sprinkle some charm on top. “What can I say? I’m a woman on the move.”
“You won’t be moving around much when the Isle shuts down.”
“So I’ve heard. But it makes no difference. I’ll still have a good time.”
He stares at me, amused. “Including tonight?”
“Maybe. Is this the best bar the isle has to offer?”
“Not even a little bit. C’mon, I’ll show you a thing or two.”
I’m barely halfway into my second margarita when I make the decision to follow. Kaden’s energy is infectious and intriguing, two things that make me curious for more.
Anything to distract from tomorrow and the anxiety living inside me.
We leave the Oasis behind and wind up at a different place across the street. Compared to the Oasis, the Sunset Isle is explosive and rowdy. Flashing neon lights almost blind me as we wander deeper into the crowded club that leads underground.
The music blares and people dance ’til they’re breathless and sweaty. Kaden curls an arm around me so we don’t get separated and walks us deeper into the crowd.
“Do you like to dance?”
“You dance?”
“I’ve got moves… for a White guy.”
“Then sounds like we’re dancing. Show me what you got.”
Time rolls away from me once the bass drops in the song playing and the underground club goes wild. I’ve joined the hive mind alongside Kaden as we start dancing. The next thing I know, it’s been half an hour and our bodies are grinding. I’ve surrendered to the addictive dance beats as a current of excitement shocks through me.
The temperature in the club rises. You’d never know that outside rain pelts away. So many people packed into such a contained space makes air feel like a hot commodity. Add in the ever-moving strobe lights and dancing and it begins to feel like triple digits.
I catch my reflection in the glass mirror that makes up the ceiling—a woman with eyes widened by adrenaline and brown skin gleaming with glitter and perspiration stares back down at me. Almost a different woman altogether.
A stranger amid a club of other strangers.
I drop my gaze from the mirrored ceiling, swaying to the beat, and stare around at the dozens of bodies surrounding me. Many of whom wear their good times on their faces; they’re truly giving new meaning to make the most of the night.
I’m reminded of nights in college. Lyra and I used to go clubbing and we wouldn’t return until the early morning birds were twittering outside. Lyra was more of the wallflower type while I was always in the middle of the dance floor trying to convince her to join me.
