“Let’s work.”
My eyes continue to drift back to the purple curtain, my rage growing fiercer the longer time goes on.
Eventually, an entire hour passes without anyone emerging, and I’m fucking livid, ready to charge in there and tear her ass out of there myself.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROMAN
Monday
March 22, 2021
I’m so fucking over this club and Ash’s shitty mood. I just want to go home and hold Amira in my arms, maybe eat some food to balance out all the tequila swimming through my veins.
We’ve sold all his shit and have no fucking reason to still be sitting in this goddamn booth, but Ash refuses to leave, not until he sees Sage walk back through that fucking curtain.
“Another!” I shout to the waitress with wide silver eyes, framed with lashes that flutter like butterfly wings. If she keeps batting them like that, they’re going to fly off her face.
“Another? Are you sure? You can barely talk there,” she teases before taking my empty glass. She turns to face Ash, waiting to see if he would like a refill as well, but he won’t take his eyes off the entrance to the back rooms.
The waitress sashays away, lifting her nightgown just enough to show me the bottom curve of her ass. I avert my eyes instantly. Drunk or not, the only ass I ever want to drool over is Amira’s.
Resting my head against the cushion of the booth, I close my eyes and watch specks of vibrant purples, reds, and pinks dance behind my lids. The pulsating colors make my head throb painfully, although that may be due to the fact that I haven't been this drunk since I was a senior in high school.
The weight of my tongue is like lead in my mouth, making it almost impossible to talk to the glowing waitress when she comes back with my drink in hand.
“Here you go, handsome.”
In less than a second, I shoot back the shot and slide the glass over, waving my hands in surrender before slamming down a ten-dollar bill.
No more alcohol.
Ash still hasn’t made any attempt to move. Hand running along his lips while the other toys with the ring on his thumb.
“Ash. It’s almost one in the fucking morning, and she still hasn’t come out.”
“Your point?” he snaps, fire burning behind his auburn eyes.
“My point, asshole, is you fucking staring at that damn curtain isn’t going to make her come out any faster. She has to go home eventually. You can wait for her outside her house, but until then, can we get the fuck out of here?!”
“For someone who’s had seven shots, you don’t seem all that fucking drunk,” he grumbles, but to my enormous relief, he starts sliding out of the booth, but not before giving that damn curtain one last flaming look.
Jumping out of the booth after him, I stumble slightly over my own foot, almost crashing into a fairy-looking dancer leading a barely legal adult to the back rooms.
From the stupid smile splitting his face, I can tell he’s hoping to get lucky. Very fucking unlikely, but still, I give him a slap on the back in passing. May his dick get wet tonight.
Who knows, maybe mine will too.
Again, very fucking unlikely, but suddenly, all I can think about is Amira in my arms, her naked body writhing underneath me as she allows me to worship every inch of her bare skin.
My dick hardens at the thought. Not even the below twenty-degree breeze can penetrate the blood flow in my pants.
I palm my hard-on on the way to the car, willing it to go down, so I don’t have to sit next to Ash with a fucking stiffy.
My ass isn’t fully seated before Ash peels out of the parking spot, zipping down the road until we hit the on-ramp to the freeway. Popular Monster by Falling in Reverse is bleeding through the speakers, blowing out my eardrums until all I hear is the guttural screams of Radke. The rhythm does nothing to eradicate my need for Amira; it only succeeds in amplifying the serotonin in my system until I’m drunk with desire instead of alcohol.
Like my thoughts manifested into a reality, her name appears on my screen, her soft smile enchanting me as I let the call go on.
