enjoy that?”
“Right now. You like a big, strong man?”
The vampire shrugged. “More than one. But always stronger, yes. I like to be thrown around.”
I choked on an ice cube. Laurel was up in a flash, pounding on my back. The ice cube flew across the table.
The vampire resumed her seat, folding her hands in her lap.
Never mind that I’d nearly died, Tommy was busting a gut over the comment.
“Laurel, I think I love you already,” she declared, holding up her vodka and cranberry—rich bitch. “See you shrews at the bottom.”
“But I’m still on my first drink,” I objected.
The others ignored me.
Ugh.
I knocked back the rest of my first drink, and by the time I’d finished my second rum and Coke, the others were grabbing their things. I slid off my stool and hurried after Tommy and Laurel, winking at the bass player. Maybe Tommy was onto something with musicians. Though he was about the most un-musician looking musician ever.
Dammit, he was wearing a tie. I really did have an ironic attraction to the guys I professed to dislike.
We left the alley and weaved around a few blocks to a nightclub I’d been to several times. Tommy began speaking to a guy on the way, and I waggled my brows at Laurel.
“Does she know him?” she asked.
I considered that. “Tommy feels the mating call constantly.”
When I last spoke to her, she was considering serious steps with what’s-his-name.
“Tommy,” I yelled. “What happened to that guy you’ve been seeing?”
The man she was speaking to glared at her and made scarce.
I snickered at her dark look.
“You vage-blocker,” she said grumpily.
I watched the dude wobble away. “He was hammered. You weren’t getting anywhere with him tonight. And don’t avoid the question.”
She slid a look at Laurel. “His name was Dean, and I nipped it in the bud.”
What about the Theodore guy? Didn’t she ditch Dean for him last week?
Still, I took her hint. My friend barely spoke to me about this stuff. Laurel was accepted but not tested.
“Sure. Shit happens, right?” I replied. “I’d buy you a consolatory drink, but I’m skint.”
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Tommy said as we arrived at the next place.
I fell quiet, burningly aware of Laurel’s presence. Now was not the time for Tommy to forget I was Miss Tetley for a reason.
The bouncer asked for our IDs, and I made sure to angle mine away from certain vampire eyes.
His eyes fell heavy on me. “The VIP area is open, Miss—”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said smoothly.
Nodding, he pulled back the red rope and let us pass.
“This is more like it,” I shouted as we descended into the underground club. Flashing neon lights filled the space, lasers blasting in swirling designs over the black walls. Below us, happy masses pulsed in time to the thumping beat.
A pleasant buzz had spread through me during our walk, and I was ready to dance.
Priorities though.
We squeezed our way to the opposite end of the dance floor, and I leaned over the bar, crossing my ankles as I bent them up in the air to lean forward. These were cloud heels, but my feet still appreciated the break.
“How much are your tequila shots?” I asked the bartender.
Tommy started laughing. I choked on one myself, knowing exactly what she was laughing at. Bitch.
The bartender drawled a smile. “For you? How about one on the house?”
“What about my friends?” I purred. Yes, purred.
Thank you, rum.
He inclined his head—clever fellow. “Of course, beautiful.”
I winked at him. “Then I graciously accept.”
Tommy bumped me with her hip. “Did you just say grashioushly?”
Laurel’s eyes were alight. “She did.”
The alcohol didn’t appear to have affected the vampire one bit, but I was glad she was having fun. Even at my expense.
We threw back the free shots.
That D-floor was mine.
Tonight, I was dancing away a week’s worth of shit and a lifetime’s worth of shock. Laurel and Tommy were hot on my heels, and as the music switched over to a thrumming, seductive beat, we all began to move.
“Holy shit, Laurel’s got swagger!” Tommy yelled in my ear.
I hadn’t known hips moved that way. I wondered if Kyros’s could move like that too.
Bad!
He was part of the issues I was dancing away. Lifting my hands in the air, I let my ponytail swing to one side and began to move with the music. I honestly wasn’t much of a dancer unless super drunk—maybe I was uptight—but at sixteen, I’d scoured YouTube and had twenty moves I mashed together in random order.