“Jesus,” I grit.
The inside is a sea of writhing bodies, dancing to the pounding music. All the shades have been closed and it resembles an underground rave club. There’s even a professional DJ station set up with a row of glaring lights. A red one circles the room, lighting up the throng of people.
Bur none are Sinclair.
“Sinclair?” I yell, stomping in. I’m going to spank that perfect ass of hers for putting herself at risk like this. “Sinclair!”
My voice is lost to the music as I push my way into the crowd.
“Hey, Handsome,” a girl coos, wiping her hair back from her clammy forehead. She gives me a tipsy smile as she pushes her tits against me and tries to entice me to dance.
“Where is she?” I growl.
The girl pouts up at me. “Who?”
“Sinclair. The woman whose place this is.”
“Oh…” She tilts her head with a flirty smile as she snakes her arms around my neck. “Last time I saw her, she was going into one of the bedrooms with a guy. I’m sure there’s another one we can talk in, if you don’t fancy dancing?”
I pull her arms off me and place them by her sides. She throws me a look of disappointment as I step away.
I don’t bother trying to weave through the crowd, I plow right through it.
My shirt clings to my back as sweat beads run down my back. It’s a fucking spectacle in here. What the hell was she thinking?
“Get the fuck out of my way!” I bark at anyone who doesn’t have the sense to move before I crash into them.
They part in a wave, immediately swallowing up the gap behind me as I move forward.
“Denver!”
I snap my head to the side and meet Zoey’s wide eyes. She moves, positioning herself between me and the hallway that leads to Sinclair’s bedroom.
“Where is she, Zoey?”
She flinches at the venom spilling from my voice, her eyes widening as the beat changes and a strobe light turns on. There’s a collective whoop from the hundreds of people squashed into the living area.
“Um…” Zoey’s eyes dart around like she’s looking for someone to help her.
But I already know where Sinclair is. Her best friend wouldn’t be standing here, in my way, if I wasn’t about to walk right into whatever shit Sinclair’s trying to pull.
“You don’t want to go back there, Denver.”
I glance down at Zoey’s hand that’s appeared on my chest, a token attempt at holding me back.
“Move your hand, and step aside,” I say calmly.
“Denver,” she pleads. “She’s not… she’s… trust me, please. Now isn’t the time. Come back tomorrow. Talk to her. You can work this out, I know you can. She’s… she’s not in a good place tonight.”
I level my eyes with her frantic ones, and she shakes her head, screwing her face up and turning away. Her hand drops from my chest, and I slide past her.
“Thank you,” I say.
I pause for a nano second at Sinclair’s bedroom door, dragging in a deep breath.
Then I boot the fucking door in.
“Fuck!” A body shoots up from beneath the covers of her bed. “What the hell, man? This room’s taken.”
