Page 55 of Enticing the Elf
“I’m just saying,it’s ridiculous that even our Uber driver knows where we’re going, but I still don’t,” Dáithí argues. He’s been saying variations of the same thing for the past twenty minutes, and I smile and nod just like I have every other time. It wins me a glare, but he’s not really mad. If anything, he’s excited by all the secrecy.
I hope this date lives up to the hype.
“You’re sure I’m dressed right?” he asks. “If I’m not because you didn’t tell me what our destination was, I’ll never let it go, you know that, right?”
“I know, and you’re dressed right.” I lean in and murmur against his ear, “You look incredibly fuckable.” It’s true—I told him to dress sexy for going out, and he did—but what puts it over the top is knowing what he’s wearing underneath those jeans that are so tight, he had to lie down to get them on.
He flicks me a flirty glance through his lashes and lays a hand high on my thigh. “You say the sweetest things… but that one’s true.”
I chuckle as the car slows, and then our driver pulls over and stops at the curb.
“This is as close as I can get without double-parking,” he says apologetically. “Is that okay?”
Glancing out the window, I assure him it is, then tip and thank him as Dáithí and I slide out. Our destination is three doors up, but even from here it’s obvious what it is.
“A club?” He turns an excited smile to me. “We’re going dancing?”
“We’re going dancing,” I confirm, looping an arm around him and steering him along the street. “Three guesses who the guest DJ is tonight.”
“It’s someone I’d know? Hm, okay… Wait, community or human?” He glances around to make sure nobody overheard, but we’re close enough to the club now that noise from the people in line mingles with the music spilling from inside and makes eavesdropping hard.
“Community. This is a community club—a communityqueerclub.”
His face lights up with the understanding that he can fully relax tonight without having to be on guard against bigots or slipping up in front of unknowing humans.
“You’re seriously gifted when it comes to planning dates, Eoin. Okay, a community DJ that I’d know…” His eyes go wide. “It’s not Adjoa K?”
I wink, and the sound he makes can only be called a squeal. “How?I thought she was in Europe for the rest of the summer?”
“There you are!” Hagen bounces up to us before I have to come up with an answer to Dáithí’s question. “Finally! We’ve been waiting forever.” He gestures toward a group of people, and Dáithí glances in that direction, then looks up at me.
“You invited friends?”
For a split second, I wonder if it was the wrong decision and he would have preferred it to be just us. Then he pulls me in for a big, wet kiss, and I mentally pat myself on the back for getting it right.
“Thank you! Clubbing is so much more fun with a group.” He abandons my side to say hi to the others, a mix of friends from work and outside of it, and Hagen slaps me on the shoulder.
“Dude, you just got here, and I can already tell you got points for this one.”
My gaze follows Dáithí, who’s jabbing a finger at Ari for reasons I can only guess at. “I hope so.”
“Pfft. I know so. It’s never been a secret that he loves to dance. This would have been a winner even without all the extra bells and whistles you added.”
“Maybe, but it’s worth it anyway.”
He rolls his eyes and hauls me over to the group. “Come on, we’re all here now. Let’s get inside. The bouncer wouldn’t let us in without you.”
“We’re all on the guest list?” Dáithí asks, turning away from Ari, who looks relieved. “How did you get tickets to Adjoa K for such a big group?”
“Eoin sprang for bottle service,” Caoimhe says before I can stop her, and Dáithí’s jaw drops.
“For all of us?”
“I got a discount,” I excuse, then make for the door before he can ask why. The bouncer eyes me with jaded weariness until I tell him my name and show ID, and then he’s all smiles, radioing for someone to come and meet us and ushering us inside.
Even though it’s early and the opening DJ is still playing, the club is already packed wall-to-wall with bodies. Our server leads us upstairs to the VIP section, which is warded to reduce the noise level and where we have two booths reserved. Within five minutes, our first bottles have been opened and poured. For a little while, we drink and talk, and with Dáithí pressed up against my side and the distant vibration of the bass, it’s easy to relax. We should do this more often—not the VIP thing, though I can’t deny I like it, but getting out with friends. This is something I enjoy, and fuck knows Dáithí loves it, so why has it taken the challenge for me to make it happen?
“Let’s dance,” I say to Dáithí, suddenly determined not to waste a second of this night. I toss back the remainder of the champagne in my glass.
