Page 5

“Ohh here we go!”

A woman walks onto the stage, resembling one of the ring girls from a boxing match. She’s wearing a tight little skirt that might actually be a belt, and it makes my dress look like something I’d wear to church. I’m not judging her for it—the woman sure as hell has the figure to pull it off. I just wonder how she manages to bend over without showing the world whether she shaves or waxes.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she begins, her perky boobs getting ready to jump out of the scoop-neck top she’s wearing. “It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Tell me, ladies, are you feeling flushed?”

“Lord, this one likes her cheese,” Stacey mutters, making me grin.

“Give it up for Flush!” the woman yells just as the band walks onto the stage.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, but these guys were definitely not it. In my head, I think I had a boy band image going on, not sure why. But these guys are anything but a boy band. They’re all a little rough around the edges, some more than others—dressed in jeans, T-shirts, and biker boots. I lean back as the music starts, the drummer counting them in. My eyes move to him, and I startle to find him looking right at me.

I swallow, my skin heating with embarrassment. I pick up my bottle of beer and look away as the upbeat tempo kicks up a notch, and the lead singer starts singing about whisky lies and amber eyes.

They have a soft rock sound, with maybe a hint of country, that we don’t get much of in the UK. I like it, though, and find myself swaying along to the music.

My eyes drift back to the drummer. When I look over, I find him still looking at me. I bite my lip, not sure what to think. I mean, this guy is good-looking. Seriously good-looking, but he’s way too young for me. He winks at me, making me blush more.

He has dirty blond hair, long on top, as if he’s been running his fingers through it. He has a lean frame, which I tend to lean towards. After a childhood where my six-foot-five, two-hundred-and-fifty-pound father used his size against me, men who are much bigger than me are far too intimidating.

I sigh, not wanting to dwell on the past. My father’s long gone now anyway. I finish my beer as the song ends and the next one begins. I’m strangely entranced by this man and his hypnotic eyes that never leave mine. By the time the band is finishing up, I swear I’m on the edge of orgasm just from watching the way he moves his damn arms and the sensual glide of his tongue across his bottom lip.

“Watching you two is like watching straight porn. It’s not for me, but I’m still somehow turned on by it all,” Stacey says into my ear, making me jump.

I slap her arm lightly. “Behave.”

“Never.” She vows before she flags down a server and orders two slippery nipples before I can protest.

“Girl, with those looks he’s throwing you, you’ll either end up rocking in a corner or so wet you’ll be slipping off the chair. You need something to calm your nerves. Hell, you’re making me fucking nervous.”

I swallow my retort. She has a point.

“I won’t let anything happen to you that you don’t want to happen. I promise.”

Suddenly, my young, flighty, carefree friend seems anything but, and I feel oddly choked up. I reach over and squeeze her hand. “Thank you. And thanks for forcing me to come out tonight.”

“You’re welcome. This is what friends do for each other.”

The waitress returns with our drinks and places them on the table. “You want to pay now, or have me charge them to the table?”

“I’ll pay now so I don’t wander off and forget,” Stacey offers. Before she does, I whip my phone out of the tiny wrist-thingy and tap it to the card reader.

“Dammit, Emma, it was supposed to be my treat.”

“Well, now it’s mine. You can get the next one.”

“Fine,” she pouts, picking up a glass. I grab mine too, pulling out the little cocktail umbrella before taking a sip.

“Oh, these are gonna be dangerous.”

“You have no idea.” She grins before holding her glass to mine, making them clink together.

I down half my drink in one go, suddenly feeling parched as cheers go up around the room, followed by thunderous applause.

“Hey, babe,” Jessie appears beside us, a grin on her face as she bends down and plants a kiss on Stacey’s lips. She takes the seat next to her before looking over at me. “Damn girl, you’re beautiful tonight.”

I grin, like a fool. Jessie is a masc lesbian who is so freaking attractive; she has me questioning my sexuality. Tonight, she’s dressed in a white button-down shirt, black trousers, and black braces. Her short hair is long on top and shaved short at the sides and is currently pulled back into a little ponytail.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself, Jessie.”