***
Music and lightsslam into me as the bathroom door swings open. Erin’s laugh echoes in my head, but she isn’t here, and she should have been an hour ago.
I never thought I’d be miserable over a girl not showing up to a place I invited her, but here I am.
I skip the bar and dodge the couples getting hot and heavy against the walls.
At least some people are having fun.
The smell of perfume and sweat hits like a bad memory. Once upon a time, girls, liquor, and drunken kisses were a routine.
Not anymore.
Now there’s only one girl in my head—and she’s the one who’s missing.
I’ve only had one drink. I planned to have one or two more, but I wanted to talk to Erin before the shenanigans of the night started and I made a fool out of myself in front of her.
“Oliver,” I murmur when I get to him. He barely spares me a glance, too busy entertaining a brunette.
Typical.
He waves his hand at me without looking, and I know what that means—not now, man.
I turn, ready to leave when Brax exits a booth. And there, in the corner tucked away with sleeves covering her hands and hair falling in soft waves with stray strands framing her beautiful face, is Erin.
She’s here.
Her eyes track Brax, and then they’re flicking over in my direction.
She cracks a smile that reaches her eyes.
That gorgeous dimple pops.
“Happy birthday,”she mouths, holding up a blue badge, twenty-five written in the middle.
I grin like the lovestruck fool I am. She turns her head away when I send her a wink, and I swear, even with all the lights, a blush creeps up her neck and settles over her cheeks.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Brax says, fixing me with a stern look that would be convincing if his eyes weren’t swimming in amusement.
He steps closer, slow and deliberate. “She’s underage. Michigan law says a person has to be twenty-one to be in a bar.” He gestures vaguely at the room around us. “I should cite whoever let her inside, even if she’s on your list and it’s a private event,” Brax comments, and then his lips twitch just enough to ruin the threat.
“You gonna arrest my girl on my birthday, Detective?”
“Your girl, huh? Does she know that yet?”
“She will.”
He chuckles. “Treat her right, Pretty Boy. She’s special. She’s got this way of somehow making everything and everyonearound better,” Brax says as he looks over at Erin, who’s in the middle of opening up a packet of Jelly Tots. “And you deserve nothing less.”
I can’t say I’m shocked he thinks that way about her. He talked to her most of the night at the event with Roman when she wasn’t by my side.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get over there before someone else can claim the vacant spot next to her.”
Brax heads to the bar. When Erin sees me coming, she twists her body inside the booth and brings her knees up, her small feet resting on the seat.
I throw myself down next to her, the space between us barely there. I rest my forearms on the tops of her legs, and her warmth seeps through the fabric.
Resting my chin against my arm, I look at her. My pulse speeds up, and for a moment, I wonder if she can hear it, too.
