I liked that Danica looked like she did, in her girly dress and sexy shoes, and she was still down with all of that.
“So, Xander’s coming…?” she said. “And did you invite any other friends?”
“I brought Summer,” I said.
Danica’s blue eyes went wide. “DJ Summer is here?”
I chuckled. “Yeah. You can just call her Summer, though.”
“Ohmygod.” She glanced down at herself. “Am I dressed right?”
“For what?”
“Um, hello. For meeting the party queen. And, you know…” She gazed up at me. “Your gorgeous ex-girlfriend.”
I put my beer down on the bar and slipped my arms around her waist. “You look fit to meet any queen,” I told her. Then I kissed her softly. “You’re a straight-up goddess, Danica Vola.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck, pressing her whole body into mine. “You are so getting laid tonight, with talk like that.”
“I hope so.”
She kissed me again. “Seriously, though. I want to meet her. Before I get all drunk and sloppy.” She grinned at me, a semi-sloppy grin, and I chuckled.
“Okay, babe.” I squeezed her, then released her. “Let me go find her. I’ll bring her over here.”
“Okay. Just don’t be gone too long…”
“Never,” I said, and gave her another deep, slow kiss before tearing myself away. As I did, she gave my ass a slap.
“I’ll miss this ass…” she purred.
Yeah, I really liked drunken birthday girl Danica.
I groaned and headed off to find Summer, leaving Danica with her girls—who were ordering more drinks—at the bar.
I found Summer easily enough. All you had to do was look for the swirling vortex of fangirls, which only grew as the night went on. They dripped off her like pretty accessories. Summer’s girl posse was her entertainment, her companionship, her security. I’d had giant security dudes on tour who were less effective in keeping the riffraff away.
Usually, in the center of the vortex, you’d find Summer getting cozy with a few fanboys. This time, when I shouldered through the bodies, I found her lounging on one of the Back Door’s few old couches between a boy and a girl.
I didn’t know either of them. But when I approached, she waved the guy off and patted the seat next to her, for me to sit down.
“Have you met Courteney yet?” she asked me as I sat, indicating the young chick sitting next to her. She had long blonde hair, and while she was definitely pretty, she was way less sparkly than Summer’s usual arm ornaments, in her gray hoodie, jeans and flip-flops.
“I haven’t.”
Summer took the girl’s hand and drew it over her lap, placing it in mine. “This is Courteney Clarke,” she told me, pointedly, like the name was supposed to mean something to me.
It didn’t.
“Cool.” I shook the girl’s hand, wondering who she was. Summer wouldn’t make a point of introducing her to me—first and last name—unless there was a reason. “Ashley.”
“I know who you are,” she said, but she didn’t seem hot or cold about it, just kinda neutral.
“They need a better DJ in this place,” Summer complained, “if they’re gonna do the dance night thing.”
“They needyou,” Courteney said.
“They wish,” Summer said. “They can’t afford me, sweetie. But I can steer them in the right direction. I’ll talk to Bear about it.”
