I take a deep breath and grab his wrist. I move my fingers around frantically, trying to find a pulse. Suddenly, I feel it!
“He has a pulse!” I nearly scream, sweat breaking out on my forehead as I’m overcome with joy. “He’s alive! Alive!” I don’t mean to, but I sound like a Frankenstein movie.
Now that I’m more coherent, I can see his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths, so faint that I can see why I missed it before.
“Jesus, Rox! Don’t do that ever again!” Hannah yells before laughing. “You got me all worked up over here! Oh, and you owe me a night out. I was about to get my own itch scratched. Don’t have time for that now!”
“How do you think I feel?” I start to feel worry all over again. “It was strange how he just passed out on me in the first place. One bottle of beer shouldn't have done something like that, even if he was drinking before. I mean, he went from rock solid to staggering in like three minutes.”
“Who is he, anyway?” Hannah wonders. “Grab his wallet.”
“His name is Jake, that’s all I know. I don’t know if I should do that . . .”
“I’m not asking you to steal his money and credit cards, Roxy! Just find out who the man is!”
I check his pants before finding his wallet in his jacket pocket. I pull it out and peek inside. It’s thick with a wide packet of hundreds, and my heart nearly stops as I pull out his ID. The photo that looks back at me is like I felt when I first saw him. That boyish smile, those sensual lips. Thank God I didn’t take him from this world.
“Like I said, his name is Jake. Jake Stone,” I say, transfixed by his photo. I thought a good looking DMV photo was impossible. I guess it just needs Jake Stone on it.
“Well, it sounds like Mr. Jake Stone needs some help.”
“No shit. What should I do?”
Hannah sighs. “It sounds like he needs to sleep it off. Just get out of there. I’ll find someone at the front and tell them there’s a drunk guy in the back room passed out.”
“But—” I say, looking down at Jake. “What if he needs medical help?”
“Then they’ll get it for him! But he’s just drunk, Roxy. Come on, you’re not supposed to even be back there.”
Hannah has a point. “Okay,” I say finally. “Meet you out front.”
Click.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” I tell him. “But I have to go.”
Jake makes a little sound. I stop, going back over to the bed and pushing his shoulder, jostling him a little.
“Jake?”
He snorts a little but doesn’t answer, but at least I can see he’s breathing more. I don’t know what the hell happened, but I’m glad he’s all right.
I hear a bang somewhere outside and quickly jump to my feet. Someone’s coming. They’ll know what to do. Maybe he won’t even remember our brief steamy encounter.
But I’ll never forget it, I think.
“Catch you in another lifetime, handsome,” I say, blowing him a kiss as I scoop up my purse and things.
I rush out of the room and nearly collide into a small man in a sharp suit. In my heels, the top of his head just about hits me in the chin. He looks surprised, his eyes going wide.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing back here?” he demands in a thick Bronx accent, grabbing me by the arm.
“I was with a friend,” I hurriedly say, turning my face so he can't get a good look at me.
He tries to pull me around to face him. “You’re full of shit,” he snarls. “No one is allowed back here.”
“Well a guy name Jake let me in. He said he knows the owners,” I retort. “He had a key.”
“Bullshit! Jake knows not to let any sleazy broads back here.” Sleazy broads? This little bastard is pushing his luck.
A groan from inside the room pulls his attention away, and I seize the opportunity, pulling myself from his grasp as I shove him and take off down the hall as fast as I can in these heels. I guess all those performances onstage still help out. I can move in these damn things.
“Hey!” the short guy yells. “Get your ass back here!”
I grit my teeth and find my way back into the club and make a beeline outside, fearing every second that one of the club security is going to grab me. Those MIB-looking dudes are scary.
Hannah is waiting for me by the fountain, arms folded, a scowl on her face.
We walk to the car and get in, not saying a word until we’re inside. Suddenly, Hannah bursts out laughing. “This is just so damn crazy. You were saying that you were gonna unleash the Rox, but damn . . .”
“I dunno, Han.” I laugh. “It was weird! I almost shit a brick! I’m not going to want to go out for another ten months.”
“Was he at least cute?”
“Oh, gawd,” I say, relaxing as Hannah pulls out of the parking lot. A ripple of remembered heat and unquenched desire flushes my cheeks. “He was hot as fuck. And I bet you could crack walnuts with his ass cheeks.”
We talk as Hannah drives, and she fills me in on the guy she danced with. I’ll admit, I feel a little bad about ruining her night. “So, are you going to call the guy?” I ask, shifting around to try and make my ass more comfortable. “I mean, you sound like you liked him.”
Hannah thinks, then nods. “Yeah, I probably will. What about Jake? You get his number?”
“I didn’t exactly think about getting his number,” I say sarcastically. I reach for my purse and open it, looking for my phone. When I do, I’m shocked by the thick black leather object inside. My memory flashes back, and I remember taking it out of his pocket and laying it next to my things. “Oh, shit.”
“What?” Hannah asks, pulling into our parking lot. When I don’t answer, she parks and shuts off the engine. “Rox, what’s going on?”
I pull out Jake’s wallet and show it to her. “I accidentally took his wallet in my rush to get out of there.”
Jake
“Jake!” I faintly hear a muffled voice urgently yell from what seems a million miles away. Something hits me in the face, and I mumble something. The voice speaks up again, this time closer. “Jake, wake up.”
I let out a groan, my head pounding like that time I decided to do keg stands in college and lost my balance, hitting my head on the way down. I feel someone shaking me violently, but it's a chore to open my eyes.
“Jake, what happened?” the voice says, and I can finally identify who it is. That Bronx accent is pretty much unmistakable.
Still, even if I recognize Nathan’s voice, it's a struggle to open my eyes. I finally force them open, but when I do, all I see is a blur.
“Fuck,” I groan. “You get the number on that truck?”
“Jake, you’re fucking smashed, man,” Nathan says, and I swallow thickly, my mouth feeling both swollen and somehow dry at the same time. “Damn, I haven’t seen you like this before.”
I feel like my chest has been cast in concrete and like my limbs are weighed down by stone. I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to focus, but it takes several moments for me to see Nathan clearly. He’s standing over me, staring at me with disbelief, concern, and yeah, a little amusement.
“Where is she?” I mumble, my words sounding like a jumbled mess. I'm trying to get my bearings, remember what’s going on. Some things are a little hazy, but her . . . I can’t forget her. Her lush body in my hands, those sweet lips . . . fuck.
Nathan frowns. “Huh? I don't understand you.”
I realize I'm not going to get anywhere for at least several minutes with the brain fog that is filling my mind. “Water,” I rasp, trying to imitate drinking motions. “Get me some water.”
Nathan looks like he’s about to make a wiseass comment but instead goes to the corner of the room and grabs a water out of the small refrigerator, bringing it over to me. I'm barely able to take it from his hands, but he plucks it out of my weakened fingers and opens it for me. Taking it, I chug some, the water churning in my stomach, but at least I’ve got something to focus on besides the jackhammer between my ears.