Page 13 of Crazy About Love (All About Love)

“All right, guys, thanks for doing this. We raised way over our goal thanks to a few of your moves.” She looks right at me. I give her a tiny encore before she chuckles and heads back out. Those of us who’re fully dressed follow right after her.

The bar is still buzzing, and a few of the patrons are up on the bachelor stage dancing. Looks like fun. A month ago I would’ve found Theresa and pulled her up there to do our routine, which was bound to get us a couple of laughs. I’d be in a state of ignorant, pleasant bliss until we went our separate ways and I pulled my hair out trying to get some sleep. Friendship is so easy when I’m with her, and so hard when I’m not.

Tonight, however…tonight is about moving past it all. Jace is right—if it hasn’t happened by now, it’s not going to happen. If only I didn’t have to convince myself of that every few minutes.

A loud commotion turns my attention from the stage to the front door, where a well-built security staff member is escorting someone outside. I can’t even see the patron, only hear incoherent shouting that sounds a lot like Greek until I think I hear my name. But with the music and the dancers and drunk crowd, I’m pretty sure I’m just hearing things.

After the crowd by the door cheers at having the disruptive party crasher sent out, I head to the bar to try to find my winner. Girls are lined up with giant note cards with a number on it. My number is clutched in a very inked hand, connected to a very inked arm and up to an inked neck and playful smile. Her short purple hair drops over half her face, and she flips it back and gives me a once-over.

“Hey,” she says, and I think I recognize her, but I’m not sure. You’d think I’d remember purple hair.

“Hey.”

“Wanna get out of here?” She tilts her head toward the door, and almost subconsciously I let my eyes drift around the room once more to see if I can find Theresa. Ridiculous. I shake my head and silently laugh at myself.

“Yeah…but first, your name?” I ask with a lift of my eyebrow.

Her smoke-painted eyes widen, and her shoulders jerk with the small burst of laughter that escapes her. “You don’t know who I am?”

Shit.DoI know her?

Another laugh pops from her dark lips, and she smacks a hand on my shoulder. “Your dumbfounded look is refreshing. And cute.” Her fingers curl into my collar. “Come on. I’ve got a few ideas of what I want to do with you.”

She’s strong for such a tiny girl. I like the aggression, though. It’s stoking the fire of adrenaline running through my veins. It reminds me of the way I feel around Theresa. It’s a high I can’t find by myself. Alone, things are calm, steady, like a blue sky with no clouds in sight. But when I’m around a beautiful, strong woman, the clouds gather and electricity crackles and lights up the sky. It just makes me want to match that intensity. It’s why I always thought Theresa and I would be good together.

Damn…there I go again.

“Give me yours and I’ll give you mine,” she says, dropping my collar and hopping onto the street. Her boots smack the pavement and echo through the small alleyway.

“My name?” I ask, and she nods. “Alec.”

“I know an Alex. She used to be my roommate.”

“Alec,”I correct with a half smile. “With ac.”

“All right, Calex,” she says with a teasing wink. I don’t find it too funny, but I widen my grin to humor her. “You see that over there?” She points a bright red fingernail at the brick wall over my left shoulder. The whole thing is covered in graffiti art, but the centerpiece is a picture of the New York skyline before 9/11.

“That’s one of mine,” she says. “I thought it’d be gone the day after I did it, but it’s been here ten years now.”

“Rian,” I say, reaching out to touch her tag. I suppose some of those bachelors have a few brain cells. Rian’s so famous that she doesn’t need a last name, so I don’t know it. I’m not asking either. “Ten years?”

She steps up next to me. “Yep. I look at this one and cringe.”

“Why? It’s amazing.”

“It’s dark.” She snorts. “And I should’ve used a different color on the Empire State Building. It’s faded so much now.”

I stroke the lines she indicated. The black spray paint has blurred into the brick, making the picture look as if it was seen through frosted glass. Even with the imperfection, it’s a thing of beauty. Like other things, other people, I’m familiar with.

“Why not touch it up?” I ask, letting my hand fall.

She makes a clicking sound with her tongue and reaches into her purse.

“You’ve just picked activity number one,” she says, pulling out a spray can. “Be my lookout, then we’ll get something to eat.”

It’s not exactly what I’d call a fun date, but she paid for it, so who am I to complain?

“Oh,” she says, uncapping the spray can, “you might want to cover your mouth. Don’t want you so high that you forget everything else we’re doing tonight.”

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