Page 17 of Forecheck
“I can’t imagine there are too many event spaces in Greektown,” Amelia mused, ignoring my and Lexie’s squabble. “Maybe they rented out the casino or something.”
“Just drive,” Lexie said, and I pinched her thigh. “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”
Less than two minutes later, we pulled up to the building. Out front, a valet approached the driver’s side window, which Kimber rolled down. A gust of frigid wind blew into the car, raising goosebumps on my exposed thighs, the only stretch of skin visible in my costume.
“Can I help you?”
“We’re here for the party?” Kimber sounded unsure, and I knew that wouldn’t help matters with this guy who clearly fancied himself security for a Taylor Swift concert.
“Who invited you?”
“Brent Jean.”
The valet’s gaze narrowed. “I’m not sure—”
“They’re with me!” a voice yelled from the sidewalk, and my head whipped in that direction.
At the sight of him, all of my nerves inexplicably vanished. When I rolled my window down and his eyes met mine, the smile that graced his lips could’ve stopped traffic. And it was directed at me.
Fucking swoon. He was beautiful, and I hoped I got the chance to tell him that tonight.
Dressed as Superman moonlighting as Clark Kent, Brent sauntered toward our car. The artfully swept back hair and thick-framed glasses were really doing it for me. The dress pants that molded to his thick thighs and perfect ass, and the way his white button-up strained against his biceps certainly didn’t hurt matters.
“Hey,” he said, white teeth glinting in the street lights as he bent so our faces were level. “Fancy seeing you here.”
My cheeks heated, and I was thankful for the darkness that hopefully hid the worst of it. Feigning nonchalance, I shrugged. “I had some free time.”
Brent chuckled, the sound a warm caress to my body, raising goosebumps exactly like the chilled air had. Then he straightened and, over the roof, told the valet to take care of our vehicle.
We all scrambled out, following him onto the sidewalk and toward the nondescript brick building dominating the corner of the block.
“What is this place?” I asked as we approached the glass and metal door.
“You’ll see,” he said with a sly grin as he turned away from me to hold the door open for us. I entered first, my friends following me into the small foyer with a giant freight elevator along one wall, an ascending staircase to our right, and a wall of ancient and clearly unused mailboxes to the left.
Once the five of us were inside the elevator, Brent closed the door—I nearly groaned at the sight of his biceps and back muscles bunching as he did—and pressed the button for the fifth floor.
“You’re not taking us somewhere to kill us, are you?” Amelia blurted.
“What the fuck, Ames?” I said as I elbowed her in the side.
My friends had a terrible habit of embarrassing me—it was hard not to when they knew my deepest, darkest secrets—but I really wished they’d pull it together in Brent’s presence.
Thankfully, Brent only barked out an amused laugh. “Absolutely not,” he assured Amelia. “I just want this to be a surprise. This is one of my favorite places.”
When we arrived at the fifth floor, the elevator opened to reveal a long hallway with a single large door about halfway down. Voices and the thumping of bass came from beyond.
“Are you ready?” Brent asked when we reached the door. Behind the thick, black frames of his costume glasses, his blue eyes twinkled.
The bass was heavier here, vibrating against the soles of my shoes and up my legs. I briefly wondered if walking into whatever lay beyond that door was a good idea after all. Outside of what the media spoon-fed the masses, I didn’t actually know much about him. I liked being in control, and relinquishing that in this moment was proving to be more difficult than I’d expected.
I was seconds away from turning tail when Brent slid the door open.
“Welcome to the loft,” Brent said with a flourish.
“Oh. My. God.”
I would’ve echoed Amelia’s sentiment had I not been rendered momentarily speechless. Who knew something like this place existed in the heart of Greektown, Detroit, of all places?
