"Rude." I throw a nacho at his head. "Some of us have hearts."
"Some of us have standards." He glances toward the bathrooms, wearing that guilty look he gets when girls like Ava try too hard. She thinks the nose ring and eyeliner make her his type, but Brodie's the kind of guy who wants real conversations, not whateverthisis. "How much longer do I have to stay?"
"Come on, it's not that bad. Ava's into you."
"That's the problem." He drains his beer.
Before I can argue, Izzy returns, making a beeline for my lap. She settles in like she belongs there, and I wrap an arm around her waist to steady her. "Miss me?"
Ava trails behind, looking defeated, but approaching Brodie.
"I should get going." He stands, reaching for his jacket. "Early booking tomorrow."
"But it's only—"
"At my tattoo shop," he adds, shrugging on his leather jacket. His voice softens slightly, trying to let her down easy. "Thanks for the company."
I bite down a chuckle. Brodie might be more considerate than me when it comes to feelings, but watching him try to be both honest and nice is always entertaining.
"Oh. Yeah, of course." Ava grabs her tiny purse, giving him one last hopeful glance that makes him wince. "Izzy, we should go, too. Earlyclass tomorrow."
"You go ahead." She shifts in my lap. "I want to hear more about Caleb's star sign."
Ava's eye roll could be seen from space. "Fine. Text me when you get back." She hesitates. "Or tomorrow. Whatever."
"So . . ." I start, but Izzy cuts me off, sliding closer.
"O'Malley's is just around the corner." Her fingers skim slow circles on my thigh. "Unless you have somewhere else to be?"
The bar hits us with a wave of warmth and desperation you only find on Valentine's Day after ten p.m. Every stool is occupied by someone whose night didn't go as planned, drowning their sorrows in two-for-one cocktails and pretending they meant to end up here.
Izzy weaves through the crowd like she owns it, all swaying hips and confident smiles. Her leather trousers catch the light with each movement, and I'm not the only one watching. But she's focused on me, tugging me toward the bar with that spark in her eyes that promises trouble.
"Two shots of tequila," she tells the bartender, leaning forward just enough to guarantee quick service. "And keep them coming."
The first shot burns. The second one goes down easier. By the third, the edges of everything start to soften, and Izzy's laugh sounds like a lullaby with claws. She's flush against me now, telling me about her recent spiritual awakening.
"It's like, everything happens for a reason, you know?" Her fingers trail up my neck, nails grazing the skin. "Like us meeting tonight."
"Another round?" I signal the bartender, my voice rough as Izzy's fingers slip under my shirt. The room's spinning in that perfect way where bad decisions become inevitable and I couldn't care less.
"Only if you dance with me." She's already pulling me up, and the sway of her hips is hypnotic. "Show me what you got."
Her body rolls against mine as if she's trying to prove something. I slide my hands lower, pulling her closer, and the sound she makes goes straight to my head. When she kisses me, it's all tongue and teeth and need that says this is ending in someone's bed. She tastes of tequila and cherry lip gloss, and I deepen the kiss until she's practically purring.
"You're good at this," she gasps when we break for air, her lipstick smeared across her mouth. I want to mess her up more.
More drinks appear. The music pounds through my blood, or maybe that's just desire. Her hands are everywhere, teasing, exploring, driving me crazy. Every roll of her hips makes it harder to remember why we shouldn't find a dark corner right here.
"My place," she breathes, and her voice is pure sex. "No roommate."
"Yeah?" I manage to focus, finally dragging my gaze up to meet hers. Her makeup's smeared just enough to be hot instead of messy. Her pupils are blown, and her eyes say exactly what she wants: me, now.
"Unless you're scared." She grinds against me one more time and my grip on her hips tightens. "I did mention I'm certified in Shibari?"
I have no clue what that means, but it sounds hot enough not to ask questions. "Lead the way."
She tugs me toward the door, all confident swagger despite the tequila. "Trust me, you're going to love it."
