It didn’t. Still numb.
And the night wasn’t over.
I had to get through a private party later that evening too.
The Sky Lounge was one of those swanky rooftop bars in a high-end hotel with views of the glittering lights of Los Angeles and the dark expanse of the Pacific Ocean beyond. One could count on loud music, eye candy, nose candy, secret corners, and discreet waiters. I’d been here dozens of times and while I wouldn’t say it was my favorite bar, being with my teammates after our last game was the right move. I’d buy a round of shots, replay highlights with my buddies, and flirt with whoever happened to be nearby. And then go home.
I wasn’t in the mood tonight, though. In fact, hanging out with a bunch of testosterone-laden, pumped-up jocks with a season-ending hall pass to make all kinds of bad choices felt like work.
“I don’t want to be here.”
Vally waved at the crowd congregated at the bar. “Tough shit. We can make old-guy excuses or just fade in an hour. Naomi is home with the baby, and I don’t want to be out late, anyway.”
Lawrence Valenz, a.k.a. Vally, was an inch shorter than my six four but outweighed me by at least forty pounds. He had curly black hair, olive skin, green eyes, and killer dimples. Vally had been casually demolishing our opponents’ defense with wicked moves that left sportscasters speechless for years, but off the field, he was the nicest guy I’d ever met.
My badass glare only made him laugh. “One hour.”
He winked and steered us to the glitzy bar with a glass ceiling and fairy lights. Someone slapped me on the back, handed me a drink, and we were off to the races—reliving the game, commiserating about our lackluster season, griping about teams we didn’t like, coaches who were assholes…the usual.
I nursed my vodka tonic, a plastic grin in place just like half the posers and vipers with vacant stares lurking in my periphery.
You know, I used to love the fine line separating reality from utter bullshit in LA. The willowy models, vapid actors, too-cool musicians, smarmy influencers, wily producers mixed in with everyday folks looking for a fun night out, a viral post, or at the very least, a good story. That shit was entertaining. Until it wasn’t.
Then it felt dirty.
I wasn’t having the worst time, though.
The bartender was a stunning dude with twinkly eyes and a genuine smile. I was always careful about flirting with men, and I certainly wouldn’t do it here, but he was nice to look at, and so was the blond who’d cornered me next to a tall plant. Her hair was long and perfectly coiffed, falling over her sun-kissed bare shoulders like honey. I concentrated on the girl, stealing an occasional peek at Hot Bartender.
She was talking about her roommate’s brush with a raccoon. It was kind of funny and on top of being pretty, she was genuinely charming. I didn’t know her name, but she knew mine. She knew who I was and even commented on my career. She’d claimed to have been following me for years. Was she shamelessly lying? Probably. I let it slide and felt myself finally begin to relax.
“Do you want another drink?” she purred, pressing her tits against my biceps.
I cast a furtive glance at the bartender. “Sure. Let me?—”
One of my teammates swooped in, plucked my empty glass from my hand, replaced it with a fresh one, and held his hand up for a high five. The girl laughed while I shook my head ruefully.
“I love the Devils! You guys are the best,” she gushed.
“Want this?” I asked, offering her the drink.
She trailed her red nails along the front of my shirt. “No, thanks.”
I grabbed her wrist as she was about to undo a button but didn’t complain when she laced our fingers and swayed into me.
“Hey, what’s your name?”
“Kimber.” More fluttering eyelashes. “Did you forget already?”
I ignored the question and sipped my cocktail. My inhibitions were low, the music was bumping, and there was no harm in letting loose and having some fun. “And let me guess…you’re a model.”
“No, I’m a designer. I made my dress.” She struck a sexy pose, thrusting her hip, and treating me to a smoldering glance. Bar lights twinkled over the sequined form-fitted garment like cascading water.
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
And I was. If my gaze slowed at the curve of her breasts, that couldn’t be helped. She was beautiful, and maybe that was all I needed tonight.
Kimber beamed. “Thank you. My friend Kel is wearing one of my pieces too. See the girl in the emerald dress…right there.”
