“Well, I think we should keep it as close to the truth as possible. I suck at lying, and if you plan on making connections tonight I don’t think a made-up job like an intern at the hospital where I work is a good idea. So … you’re a model and we recently met through mutual friends . Saying your boss’s mom and my Nana fixed us up sounds cheesy.”
Wyatt grins. “A little.”
The car stops and before Wyatt gets out I grab his arm. “By the way, how old are you?”
“Nineteen, but that sounds cheesy too, so let’s say twenty-one for tonight.”
Oh, God, I’m going to hell!
He climbs out with … well, the confidence of a runway model while the driver opens my door. I expect Wyatt to offer his arm, but instead he takes my hand which feels too intimate, but I go with it. As expected I’m on the VIP list with “and guest” and we breeze past the snaking line to a private entrance on the side of the building. The roar of the crowd mixed with music pours out as a muscle-bound bouncer opens the door for us.
“They’re in,” he says into a bluetooth. “Ms. Carmichael, welcome.”
“Thank you.” My eyes scan the open two-story room.
“If you’d like, Mel can check your wrap.” He nods to the blonde behind the counter on our left.
After checking my wrap, we get drinks from the bar and head upstairs to the VIP lounge. It’s wall-to-wall people from the top of the stairs to the back windows and doors leading to a patio with heaters, string lights, and more tables, as well as an outdoor bar.
“Do you see your friends?” Wyatt rests his hand on my lower back, leaning down by my ear.
“No … wait.” I lift up on my toes a half inch more than my heels already allow. On the patio I see a circle of people, mostly women, one of whom is teasing her fingers along the nape of a guy’s neck … my guy’s neck! “This way.” I attempt to keep my seething to a minimum as I grab Wyatt’s hand, worming us through the crowd.
The cool night’s air serves as a welcome greeting to my already flush skin. An average height gentleman with a fit-looking body, dressed in light gray pants and a pink, gray, and white striped button-down shirt, spies me through his thin black-framed glasses. It’s hard to tell because of his shaved head, but he looks more mature, but definitely handsome. He’s standing in front of Trick, who has his back to me and the clingy anorexic bimbo fingering his hair.
“Oh. My. God! You just have to be Darby!” The shaved-head guy yells in a very feminine way. Grady.
Trick and bimbo both turn toward me and Wyatt. Bimbo frowns as her eyes make a catty inspection, but Trick’s lips twitch, cracking his cool bad-boy façade—but only to me.
“Darby, darling!” Grady saunters toward me with his arms open wide.
Darling— a word I’ve never heard Trick use and most certainly not in Grady’s soprano voice. Trick could take a few gaying-up lessons from Grady. I hug Grady and then he kisses both of my cheeks.
“You are just exquisite. Trick said you were beautiful, but mmm mmm mmm, that’s an understatement.” Grady brushes his finger down my cheek. “Trick, give this woman her money back. Not even your raw talent could improve on such perfection.”
Screw Trick. Grady’s my man. He’s the gay BFF jackpot. I’m talking shopping, manis-pedis, and serious girl talk. And although he is handsome, there’s not a cell in my body that’s physically attracted to him. “Grady, it’s so nice to meet you. Trick has been singing your praises.”
Grady looks over his shoulder at Trick. “Reeealy?”
Trick shrugs. “It’s true.”
“Well, who knew? Anyway, who’s your handsome friend?”
I look beside me and smile. “This is Wyatt Jasper.”
Wyatt offers his hand to Grady.
“Wyatt Jasper, it’s a true pleasure. I’m Grady Cross.” Grady is a complete flirt. I glance at Trick who eyes Wyatt as well, but he’s not smiling. I imagine he’s not too thrilled that
Wyatt grins. “A little.”
The car stops and before Wyatt gets out I grab his arm. “By the way, how old are you?”
“Nineteen, but that sounds cheesy too, so let’s say twenty-one for tonight.”
Oh, God, I’m going to hell!
He climbs out with … well, the confidence of a runway model while the driver opens my door. I expect Wyatt to offer his arm, but instead he takes my hand which feels too intimate, but I go with it. As expected I’m on the VIP list with “and guest” and we breeze past the snaking line to a private entrance on the side of the building. The roar of the crowd mixed with music pours out as a muscle-bound bouncer opens the door for us.
“They’re in,” he says into a bluetooth. “Ms. Carmichael, welcome.”
“Thank you.” My eyes scan the open two-story room.
“If you’d like, Mel can check your wrap.” He nods to the blonde behind the counter on our left.
After checking my wrap, we get drinks from the bar and head upstairs to the VIP lounge. It’s wall-to-wall people from the top of the stairs to the back windows and doors leading to a patio with heaters, string lights, and more tables, as well as an outdoor bar.
“Do you see your friends?” Wyatt rests his hand on my lower back, leaning down by my ear.
“No … wait.” I lift up on my toes a half inch more than my heels already allow. On the patio I see a circle of people, mostly women, one of whom is teasing her fingers along the nape of a guy’s neck … my guy’s neck! “This way.” I attempt to keep my seething to a minimum as I grab Wyatt’s hand, worming us through the crowd.
The cool night’s air serves as a welcome greeting to my already flush skin. An average height gentleman with a fit-looking body, dressed in light gray pants and a pink, gray, and white striped button-down shirt, spies me through his thin black-framed glasses. It’s hard to tell because of his shaved head, but he looks more mature, but definitely handsome. He’s standing in front of Trick, who has his back to me and the clingy anorexic bimbo fingering his hair.
“Oh. My. God! You just have to be Darby!” The shaved-head guy yells in a very feminine way. Grady.
Trick and bimbo both turn toward me and Wyatt. Bimbo frowns as her eyes make a catty inspection, but Trick’s lips twitch, cracking his cool bad-boy façade—but only to me.
“Darby, darling!” Grady saunters toward me with his arms open wide.
Darling— a word I’ve never heard Trick use and most certainly not in Grady’s soprano voice. Trick could take a few gaying-up lessons from Grady. I hug Grady and then he kisses both of my cheeks.
“You are just exquisite. Trick said you were beautiful, but mmm mmm mmm, that’s an understatement.” Grady brushes his finger down my cheek. “Trick, give this woman her money back. Not even your raw talent could improve on such perfection.”
Screw Trick. Grady’s my man. He’s the gay BFF jackpot. I’m talking shopping, manis-pedis, and serious girl talk. And although he is handsome, there’s not a cell in my body that’s physically attracted to him. “Grady, it’s so nice to meet you. Trick has been singing your praises.”
Grady looks over his shoulder at Trick. “Reeealy?”
Trick shrugs. “It’s true.”
“Well, who knew? Anyway, who’s your handsome friend?”
I look beside me and smile. “This is Wyatt Jasper.”
Wyatt offers his hand to Grady.
“Wyatt Jasper, it’s a true pleasure. I’m Grady Cross.” Grady is a complete flirt. I glance at Trick who eyes Wyatt as well, but he’s not smiling. I imagine he’s not too thrilled that
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