“I’ll get the first round,” I said. “What do you guys want?” I took orders for two cosmos and a margarita (no salt).
“We’ll look for a table or something,” Megan shouted over the music. “They have some that aren’t VIP only.”
I nodded. Divide and conquer. It was the only way to get drinks and a place to sit. And considering the heels I had on, standing for the next three hours was out of the question.
Kelly stayed with me to help carry drinks, then we searched the crowd until we spotted Maggie waving at us from a table in the corner.
“Sweet!” I said when we got close. She’d scored a place to sit somehow, but that was Maggie. If you wanted to go clubbing, she was the girl you wanted to go with. Somehow, she just knew where to go, how not to have to stand in line, and all the ins and outs.
I downed my Grey Goose and tonic pretty quick and signaled a cocktail waitress for another. I was a decent dancer, but it was so much easier when I’d had a few drinks first.
We were talking a little, laughing as we people-watched, and bouncing to the beat. Another quick round later and Megan was pulling me onto the dance floor.
“This is my jam!” she said, bouncing and gyrating her way through the mass of people. Swirling neon lights lit up the dance floor in splashes of color amidst the shadows.
I was real relaxed now, and moving to the beat was a heck of a lot easier without being self-conscious. The dance floor was crowded, but there was still room to move.
Megan and I were having a good time, then a couple of guys started dancing with us. They were both well-built and good-looking and Megan didn’t seem to mind, so I let one of the guys put his hands on my waist.
“What’s your name?” he said, speaking loud enough so I could hear him.
“Sage.”
“Paige?”
“Sage.” Now I remembered why meeting guys at clubs was so irritating.
“What a great name!” he said with a grin.
“Gee, thanks.” I fake-smiled back, wondering if he still hadn’t caught my name.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
Free booze? “Sure.”
I followed him to the bar, though, because I wasn’t dumb enough to let some stranger bring me a drink, and watched as the bartender poured me another Grey Goose and tonic.
“So what’s your name?” I asked, sipping my drink.
“Lucas.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucas,” I said. He seemed generically nice enough, and very easy on the eyes. His T-shirt was tight and his biceps tattooed. He wasn’t quite a pretty boy, not with what I was pretty sure was a knife scar alongside his jaw and a glint in his eye that made me think I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley. “So what do you do?”
“I race cars,” he said.
I may have choked a little on my drink. “You race cars?” I asked, sputtering only a little. That was one I hadn’t heard before. Wow.
He nodded, his lips twisting in a slight grin. “Not like NASCAR or some shit like that. Stock cars. I’m in town for a race.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” I asked.
Lucas just smiled. “It’s only illegal if you get caught.”
Another song came on and he took my drink from me and set it on the bar. “Let’s dance, Sage,” he said. “Because that dress is hot and you look too good not to show it off.”
He took my hand and we squeezed our way back onto the dance floor. I saw Megan with the other guy and she was smiling, so I relaxed.
Lucas put my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist, which surprised me, but I couldn’t back up. There was nowhere to go. I smiled stiffly as we danced, then started to get irritated at how close he wanted to be to me.
After I was sure I’d been violated at least a dozen times by his roving hands, I decided I’d had enough.
“Thanks for the drink, and the dance,” I said, trying to extricate myself from his grip. “I’d better get back to my friends.”
“Don’t go yet,” he said, gripping my arm and pulling me back. “We’re just getting started.”
“Actually, we’ve already started and now we’re done,” I said, yanking my arm free. I spun around to leave before he could grab me again and came face-to-face with Ryker.
Well, shit.
CHAPTER SIX
In his jeans and leather jacket—which I knew concealed his badge and weapon—with the gray T-shirt stretched tight across his chest, Ryker made Lucas look like a little boy playing grown-up badass. Ryker was the real thing. And he looked none too pleased to see me, though his expression became downright dangerous when Lucas decided to slide his arms around my waist.
“I love the playing-hard-to-get thing,” Lucas said in my ear.
Oh, please. “Will you take the hint,” I said, exasperated as I tried to shove him off me. I was through being polite. “I’m done dancing with you.”
Ryker gave me a look of long suffering and sighed. “I just got off work,” he said. “I really didn’t want to get into a bar fight tonight.”
“Then don’t,” I snapped. “I can handle this on my own.”