Eve bit the inside of her cheek as Aspen’s hand dropped lower to caress her hip. She was so distracted by the ripples of heat that followed the touch that she barely registered Aspen’s amused, “I mean, theyareKit and Jack. They have a private table with bottle service at Halifax.”
“Of course they do,” Lydia noted in an amused tone. “That definitely sounds better than this bullshit. Count me in.”
Eve’s breath caught as Aspen’s breath cascaded over her ear, and warmth bloomed low in her belly as Aspen nuzzled closer, her voice barely louder than a whisper as she added, “Would you like to go? We can just hang out in the booth and people watch if you’re not up for dancing.”
Eve’s stomach swooped when she looked up at Aspen and saw her watching her with a soft expression. It was more than a little unfair, honestly, how completely that look undid her. “Sure.” Her pulse stuttered at the obvious rasp in her voice, and she cleared her throat softly to add, “Sounds fun.”
Aspen’s eyes crinkled with joy even as she checked, “You sure?”
Only about you, Eve thought. The club scene had never really been her thing, mostly because she was too self-conscious about her complete absence of skill when it came to that kind of dancing, but the idea of cuddling up to Aspen in a dimly lit booth while the world pulsed and swirled around them in dreamy, varying neon hues was too tempting to resist. “Yeah. Totally.”
“Cool, then let’s get out of here and leave the networking to the boomers,” Lydia cheered as she turned to leave.
Eve had a moment of panic that her parents would insist she stay when they stopped to say goodbye before getting their coats—they’d never allowed her to leave until the last guest had departed—but they just smiled in that practiced way of theirs that looked genuine enough but didn’t reach their eyes as they told them to ‘go, have fun’.
It was disconcerting to be given such latitude, and she was only slightly annoyed that it was only granted because Kit, Jack, and Lydia were all pointedly waiting for her and Aspen at the door.
Still, it was an escape, and she took Aspen’s hand as she fled.
Forty minutes after grabbing their coats, they were checking them at the club. She laced her fingers through Aspen’s as they followed Kit and Jack along the elevated walkway that ran along the edge of the dance floor that was teeming with young, pretty people who looked like they were used to getting what they wanted and considered Aspen their personal playground.
She squeezed Aspen’s hand as Kit leaned in close to be heard over the music as she gave her name to the handsome twenty-something blond who stood sentry at the entrance to a section of booths behind plush velvet ropes. She watched the crowd bobbing and swaying in the smoky lavender haze that coated the dance floor as they were led to an intimate round booth upholstered in buttery-soft gray velvet in the corner. They were left with the promise of a server coming soon with their drinks,and Eve was glad for Aspen and Lydia’s familiarity with Kit and Jack as it provided her space to find her equilibrium. All of this was wildly out of her comfort zone, but she was surprised to note that the buzz in her veins that pulsed with the beat of the music was more anticipatory than anxious.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a warm hand on her thigh, and her pulse stuttered as she turned to find that Aspen had leaned in close enough that she could feel Aspen’s breath on her lips.
“Okay?” Aspen asked, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the beat of the music.
Eve nodded.
Concerned dark eyes danced over Eve’s face as Aspen pressed, “We can leave if this isn’t your thing.”
It wasn’t. Not at all. But the buzz was intoxicating, and Eve wanted to drown in it. “I’m good,” she insisted. When Aspen didn’t seem quite convinced, she leaned in to kiss her softly. “I’ll tell you when I’m ready to leave.”
The promised server arrived then, balancing a tray with bottles of Patrón Silver and Redbreast Irish whiskey and five glasses. Kit grinned at them all after she’d left and gestured to the selections. “What’ll it be?”
“I’d like to be a functioning human tomorrow, so whiskey,” Lydia laughed.
Kit nodded and threw a playful wink at Lydia. “Smart girl.”
“I have my moments,” Lydia sassed playfully. “But aim that wink elsewhere, Hawthorne. Your charms don’t work on me.”
“Your loss.” Kit pretended to pout as she slid a glass of whiskey toward Lydia.
Jack laughed as he uncorked the tequila and poured a generous amount into his glass. “Just means more of the good stuff for me.”
“Hold your horses there, Watts. I’ll take some of that,” Aspen said, nudging a glass toward him.
“Yeah, you will,” Jack cheered. He arched a brow at Eve. “What’ll it be? Or would you prefer something else? We can get anything you’d like. I just put the order in for these with our table request because they’re our usual.”
“No, this is fine,” Eve assured him. “But whiskey and I are not friends.” She grimaced at the memory of Michael’s twenty-seventh birthday that she’d told Aspen about and the hangover that lasted for three full days afterward. “I’ll also go with the Patrón.”
“Not friends, you say?” Jack inquired as he poured her drink.
Eve pulled a face and nodded. “Very much enemies.”
“Yeah, we all have one of those,” Lydia laughed. She tilted her glass toward the center of the table and offered a cheery,“Sláinte!”before taking a generous sip.
Aspen tipped her glass against Eve’s, and a pretty smile bowed her lips as she murmured, “Cheers, beautiful girl.”
