I give him a smile. “Well then, carry on and happy hunting.”
Trey walks off and I watch as he saunters up to the blonde. The cocky swagger he normally carries himself with is starting to return. They seem to hit it off and it's not long before they're laughing together. I see her touching his arm quite frequently, which tells me that it’s heading in the right direction and that I shouldn't wait up for him tonight.
I order another drink and when the bartender slides it over to me, I take the glass and walk to the row of booths near the back of the club. The place is packed, so I'm surprised to find one that's empty. But then, most people are out on the dance floor dry humping one another, so maybe I shouldn't be all that surprised.
I slide into the booth and look around at all the beautiful people who fill up Club Myst. Almost everyone looks like they just stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine or something. I can see that it’s a hotspot and a trendy place to be.
Honestly, I don't know why I'm sticking around. It's not like I'm here trolling for chicks. Getting involved with someone is about the last thing I need right now. I'm up to my neck in work and have several other big projects about to pop off. I probably shouldn't have taken the time off to come to Vegas with Trey, but I kind of felt like I had to do something. He's been miserable and hasn't been getting any better. Of course, the fact that Stephanie keeps blowing up his phone, begging for another chance, hasn't helped him any.
I figured that maybe, he'd be best served by getting out of town for a few days, getting drunk and getting laid. Hopefully, getting laid well. It's always worked for me when I've needed to get over some chick. I'm glad to see that he's pulling out of his funk because Stephanie is not worth the kind of emotional investment he made in her.
I really don't know what I'm still doing here. I've never really been big into the club scene to begin with. And as I've gotten older, I'm thirty-three now, it's become even less appealing. For the most part, everything and everybody is just so – superficial.
I haven't been in a real relationship for quite a while. And I'm beginning to doubt I'm ever going to find a woman who checks all the boxes for me. But then, my brother Liam thought the same thing until his current girlfriend, Paige, came into his life. Of course, them getting together was also not without a fair share of drama and I'd like to avoid that if possible.
But honestly, right now, I'm not really looking all that hard. If it happens, it happens. If not, I'm just going to have to get used to enjoying the company of a woman in short doses. Serial monogamy, or whatever the hell they're calling it, isn’t for me.
I watch Trey leave the club with the blonde – and the brunette – on his arms and laugh to myself. He's obviously going to be having a very good night. Good for him. He deserves it. And I'm even more surprised when a tall blonde in a black dress sits down in my booth, pulling her obviously reluctant redheaded friend along with her.
I look at the blonde, trying to keep myself from laughing in surprise, and we stare at each other for a long, awkward couple of moments. The redhead though, looks absolutely mortified and is busy looking everywhere but at me.
“I'm Gabby,” the blonde finally says. “This is Holly, and you're going to buy us a drink.”
“Oh, am I?” I ask.
“Of course, you are,” Gabby replies smoothly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“And why would I do that?” I ask.
“Well, if you don't,” she says, leaning forward across the table, “the chances of you getting a blow job later fall to absolute zero.”
I can't help myself and burst into laughter. Gabby, the blonde, is laughing along with me. I'm not used to a woman that forward, but I like her. She's funny. And bold. Her friend though, the still silent Holly, isn't laughing. She's not doing anything but sitting there, her cheeks burning bright with embarrassment, looking all kinds of uncomfortable.
“Well, I always want to give myself a sporting chance,” I say and flag down a waitress. “At least a chance better than absolute zero, at any rate.”
A moment later, the waitress stops at our table. “I'll take another scotch soda, on the rocks.” I say. “And whatever these two lovely ladies are having.”
“Cosmos,” Gabby says. “Two, please.”
The waitress turns and moves off, slicing her way in and out of the crowd with a practiced ease. I look at the redhead again and she's still refusing to meet my eyes. Refusing to speak. She's a good-looking woman. Five-foot-five, maybe. She's got alabaster colored skin, eyes that sparkle like polished jade, and a curvy, athletic body. She's got plump lips, full breasts, and just exudes a feminine appeal.
The blonde, Gabby, is a beautiful woman. No question about it. But something about the redheaded Holly is even more appealing to me. She's got a slight air of charming innocence about her. She has that girl-next-door sex appeal, as cliché as that is.
I have to say, of the two, I'm far more intrigued by the redhead, though she's yet to cast a glance my way or utter a single word.
“So, does she ever talk?” I say, gesturing to Holly. “Is there some kind of a medical condition I should be aware of?”
Gabby laughs and the color in Holly's cheeks only deepens. “My dear friend Holly here suffers from a severe case of social awkwardness,” Gabby says, “and it seems to get worse in the presence of handsome men.”
Holly lets out a strangled, choking noise and looks like she wants to crawl into the nearest hole. The waitress comes by and drops our drinks off, turning and hustling away again quickly. I slide the Cosmos in front of Gabby and Holly and pick up my own glass, raising it to them. Gabby picks up her own glass and nudges her friend to pick hers up – which she does, reluctantly.
“What are we drinking to, ladies?”
“To... social awkwardness and blow jobs,” Gabby finally says.
I burst out laughing and I swear to God, I'm half-convinced the still silent Holly is going to stroke out and die right then and there.
Chapter Seven
Holly
I've never been more uncomfortable or mortified in my entire life. The fact that Gabby pulled me into a booth with this man, a stranger to us both, and started talking about blow jobs? I want to fucking die right now. I can't even look him in the eye.
I swear to God, when we leave here, I'm going to strangle Gabby within an inch of her life. All because I happened to mention that he's a good-looking guy.
“So, we never got your name,” Gabby asks.
“Brayden,” the man says. “Brayden Anderson.”
“And what is it you do, Brayden Anderson?”
“I'm a real estate developer,” he replies.
I steal a quick glance at him and confirm my initial assessment – he's a very handsome man. Tall, with dark stylish hair, and crystalline blue eyes. He's lean and trim, a man who looks to be in very good shape. He's wearing a dark designer suit that's been expertly tailored and fits well to his body, and what I take to be a real Rolex on his wrist.
Brayden glances over and sees me looking at him and gives me a wide smile. Feeling the heat rush to my cheeks again, I quickly look away and take a sip of my drink, though I continue to watch him from the corner of my eye.
“Do you live here in Vegas?” Gabby asks.
“No, I'm based in Austin, actually,” he says.
“You're a long way from Texas,” she remarks.
He nods. “Yeah, just a little getaway.”
“Alone?” she asks.
Brayden laughs, a deep rumbling sound. “Am I being interrogated here or something?”
Gabby shrugs. “Just conversation,” she says. “We're on a little getaway too. We're from Denver. Teachers at the Gilmore Academy.”
Brayden nods again. “Teachers,” he says. “I wouldn't have guessed that.”
“No?” Gabby asks. “What would you have guessed?”
Brayden laughs and shakes his head. “I don't want to say because you'll think it's a terrible line,” he says. “It's not, but you'll think it is.”