“Are you guys here yet?” he calls, his voice drowned out by the noise around him.
“Yeah, we’re just outside waiting in line.”
“Line?” he scoffs. “Fuck that. Give me a second.”
The line goes dead and I shove my phone right back into my bra and just as I’m about to start explaining what the phone call was about to Ember, Knox’s handsome face appears from the entrance of the club. His lips pull into a dorky grin and he all but skips down to us. “Hey, you ready?” he asks, his gaze sweeping over me in a perverted leer as he completely disregards Ember.
I hold back a groan. After he asked me to come here on Tuesday morning, the creepy factor slipped away and I put it down to him just being nervous about asking me to come, but his creepiness is back in fine form. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to deal with it until I finally snap and make him regret his choices. Perhaps King was onto something.
“Yeah,” I say, grabbing hold of Ember and pulling her out of the line. What can I say? Knox might insist on being creep-tastic, but he’s also going to save us thirty minutes of waiting in line, and I can’t deny what a bonus that is.
The bouncers check our IDs and despite it being blatantly obvious that they’re fake, they let us straight through, leaving me wondering what kind of standards this place works by, but the lower they are, the better for my night. There’s nothing better than a messy night, especially when I have nothing exciting to go home to.
We pass through the doors and the second we step inside, the heavy bass from the speaker sinks into my chest. I feel its vibration like a second heartbeat and a wicked smile sets over my face. It really is going to be a good night.
“Drink?” Knox calls, looking back at us.
“Yeah,” Ember yells back as I nod my approval.
Knox drags us across the club, pointing out all the different areas before looking up to a mezzanine level that overlooks the massive dancefloor. “That’s the VIP area,” he explains. “My uncle is up there. He has clubs all over the city. I’ll take you up there to meet him later. He could sort you out with a job if you’re interested.”
My brows instantly raise as I feel the excitement pulsing through my veins, but I know better than to get my hopes up. “Interested? Fuck yeah. I’d love to work in a place like this,” I tell him, knowing that if I was to work here, it’d only be a temporary thing. It always is when it comes to me. Permanent isn’t a word that fits in my vocabulary.
Knox gives me a proud smile, seeming pleased that he was able to get a good reaction out of me. We reach the bar a second later, and I scan over all the choices, not understanding a single one. In my world, when someone says the word cocktail, that usually means a mix of vodka, Malibu, a splash of pineapple-orange juice, and one of those stupid little umbrellas on top. Though, if they want to get fancy, I might get a pineapple piece wedged on the edge of my glass.
But this shit … this is like studying for finals. I’ve never been so confused. “What do you want?” Knox asks, leaning around Ember to get my order.
I shake my head, having absolutely no idea. “Fuck it, I’ll just get a vodka sunrise,” I say, going with what I know.
“Ugh, boring,” Ember says before ordering some ridiculous cocktail that I can’t even pronounce.
I roll my eyes and she instantly bursts out laughing before Knox gets the bartender’s attention and calls him over. Our drinks are ordered, and ten minutes later, I’m standing in the middle of the dancefloor with my drink in hand, staring up at the incredible club.
I never get to experience stuff like this.
We get two drinks in before I learn that Ember is a lightweight and a chatty drunk, which speaks volumes considering that she’s already chatty without the liquid courage. I don’t know how she does it. The words come flying out of her mouth like vomit, most of them coming so fast that I can’t distinguish one word from another, but I smile and nod, and that’s all she wants from me. Though with all of the dancing, I can’t figure out how she’s not gasping for breath. I’m that girl who can’t talk while running. I’m more than capable of kicking someone’s ass, but if the fight goes on longer than a few minutes, I’m screwed. I should probably start working on my fitness.
Ember’s constant chatter keeps any more creepiness from spurting out of Knox’s mouth, but as it is, he seems fine just to stand around and pretend to dance while Ember and I have the time of our lives. But if I’m honest, I think after another hour or so, we might ditch Knox and do our own thing. He seems like the type to hover.