My earlier insecurities, exhaustion, frustration…they all fell away as my body came alive with anticipation.
This was why I’d changed my mind. This heady sense of possibility. The exhilaration of dipping my toe into something forbidden.
Whatever happened tonight, the rush of this moment was worth it.
The combination of alcohol and the heat in Asher’s gaze scorched through my veins. Either the drink was stronger than it seemed, or I was treading into dangerous territory.
Not treading into. You’re already there.
“Asher!”
The bubble popped. Noise swept in on a deluge, and I almost stumbled from the force of it.
Poppy Hart swanned up to us, a vision in green and gold. She greeted Asher with a cheek kiss before turning her attention to me. “Who’s this?” Unlike the hostess, her question contained only friendly curiosity,
“Scarlett. She’s a…friend.” The timbre of Asher’s voice dipped on the word friend, and my toes instinctively curled.
“Not that kind of friend,” I added quickly.
His amusement warmed my cheeks while Poppy laughed. With her cinnamon-colored hair and alabaster skin, she gave every woman here a run for her money.
“I like you already. It’s nice to meet you, Scarlett.” She didn’t introduce herself; she didn’t need to. If it were anyone else, it would come off arrogant, but since it was Poppy, it simply came off natural.
After a few minutes of friendly small talk, she made an apologetic face. “Do you mind if I steal Asher away for a minute? I have a friend visiting from New York and she’s a huge fan. She’ll absolutely murder me if I don’t introduce her.” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “I told her Asher isn’t all he’s cracked up to be in real life, but she refused to listen.”
“I don’t mind. It’s something they have to learn for themselves,” I agreed with mock solemnity.
“Thank you both. I appreciate you talking shit about me while I’m standing right here,” Asher said dryly.
“Any time.” Poppy patted his arm. “Scarlett, don’t worry. I’ll have him back in a jiffy.” Her plummy voice somehow made jiffy sound cool.
“I won’t be long.” Asher’s arm brushed mine on his way past, leaving a trail of tingles in its wake. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”
“I’ll try my best, but no guarantees.”
The way his answering smile made my stomach flip should be illegal.
I stuck by the bar and finished my drink while I took in my surroundings. I felt self-conscious about being the only solo person here, but it soon became apparent that everyone was too wrapped up in their own world to notice me standing awkwardly by myself.
If it weren’t a private party, I’d ask Brooklyn to come up. She seemed like the type who would appreciate the fire-eaters’ performances.
Was that allowed in a nightclub? Didn’t it violate some sort of fire code?
If it did, no one seemed concerned.
“Bit intimidating, innit?” A boyishly good-looking blond came up beside me. He had shoulders the width of a football pitch and a tiny, endearing mole above his lip that shifted with his smile.
“A bit,” I admitted. “I’m here with a friend, but they got called away.”
Asher used the term. I might as well too.
“Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”
I smiled at the obvious fishing. “Platonic friend.”
Besides friend, platonic was in the running for the word of the night.
“Good for me, then,” the blond said. “Though if I were your friend, I wouldn’t leave you alone with the wolves.” He nodded at the crowd around us. “Don’t let their expensive clothes and champagne fool you. They’re a vicious bunch. If they smell weakness, they’ll pounce.”
I laughed. “I’m glad I have you then. Safety in numbers, right?”
“Right.” His grin widened. He extended his hand. “I’m Clive.”
“Scarlett.” I’d introduced myself more in the past hour than I had in months, but surprisingly, I didn’t mind.
I guess it was easier to make friends when I actually left the house. Imagine that.
Clive ordered us another round of drinks, and we fell into an easy conversation. I learned that he was a rugby player and Poppy’s cousin, hence his appearance tonight.
“I don’t like these parties either, but I’ve skipped out on her past three soirees. If I missed this one, she’d clobber me with one of her hideously expensive handbags,” he said with a sheepish smile.
I laughed again. Clive wasn’t my type, but it was nice to flirt harmlessly with a cute guy at a club. It’d been far too long.
I was telling him about my job at RAB when the temperature suddenly plunged to subarctic levels.
Goose bumps coated my arms, and I trailed off mid-sentence when Asher reappeared. He looked decidedly less pleased than when he’d left.
“Finished with your fan club already?” I quipped.
