Laughter came from the stage.
The members of the band were breaking down their equipment and talking with fans. A group of women surrounded the keyboardist. One of them wore a tiara and a “Finally 21!” sash over a form-fitting, pink minidress. He draped an arm around her and posed for pictures. The redhead practically swooned. Who could blame her? Six years ago, at that age, she would have done the same. His wide shoulders were made for holding onto, and the way he filled out those jeans screamed hot body. Not to mention that orgasm-inducing grin. He turned up the wattage on said grin and chatted with his admirers. At least a ten-year age difference existed between him and the birthday girl. The way he flirted with her and her friends, maybe he preferred to date younger.
His eyes locked on Lauren. Even from a distance, she could see his gaze roaming over her from head to toe and back up again. He smiled and her short, white dress grew as warm as a parka. Caught staring, could she look more pathetic?
Steps from the exit, a drunken guy staggered into her path. An abrupt halt left her teetering in her stilettos. A strong, masculine arm wrapped around her waist. Lauren’s heart jumped.
“Careful.” His breath ruffled the hair near her cheek. “I’ve got you.”
People squeezed by to get to the door.
She didn’t budge. The keyboardist’s clean, woodsy scent surrounded her as she leaned against hard chest muscle.
“Time to move. We’re about to get trampled.” He rested his hand on her back. Confidence and his long stride sliced through the crowd. They walked out and moved to the side of the door.
Too much space allowed cool night air to steal his warmth. Exhaust fumes from departing cars snatched away his appealing scent.
More people piled out of the club.
He turned his back to the door. Lights near the awning illuminated the clean-shaven lines of his face. “I’m Reid, by the way.”
Intense hazel eyes robbed her of speech. Her, lost for words? That never happened. “I’m Lauren.”
“Nice to meet you, Lauren. So, are you coming to the after-party?”
Across the parking lot, Ari begged and stamped her feet. Inches shorter than Celine, she resembled a child throwing a tantrum.
“My friend Celine is tired. She wants to go home.”
Reid stepped into her space. Close enough for warmth and deliciousness to return and kick up her heart rate. “What do you want?”
To stay out of trouble. After three failed relationships in five months, she was taking a break from men, dating, the whole shebang. “It isn’t about what I want.”
“It should be.”
“When we’re out together, if one of us doesn’t want to do something, we all take a pass.”
He flattened her hand to his chest. “You’re breaking my heart. I can’t believe fate brought you to me tonight just to take you away.”
With each hard, steady thump against her palm, her brain circuits sizzled. Lush warmth spread through her breasts and the lace cups of her bra grew uncomfortably small. It was too easy to imagine him inching up her dress, stroking gently, pressing firmly. She tugged her hand from his grasp. “Sorry. Girl-code solidarity trumps fate.”
Ari squealed and happy-danced. She must’ve worn Celine down, but that wasn’t surprising. No one refused Ari. Most gave up because they couldn’t get past her unique logic.
Reid intertwined their fingers and flashed a grin. “Looks like fate is working in my favor after all.”
Lauren plucked strawberries from the tray on the table and put them on a plate. In the middle of the upstairs room, Reid played a song on the baby grand. The fluid chords wove into the laughter and conversations.
Muscle on top of muscle. That’s what it had felt like when she’d touched him. And the remarkable-looking bulge pressed against his zipper was the perfect match to the way he’d moved his hips on stage.
Ari joined her at the buffet. “I can’t believe Thane hasn’t shown up yet.”
“I can’t either.” Lauren dropped mini tacos on her plate. “He didn’t come across as a jerk.” And neither had Reid.
“What’s our next move?”
“Find him and rip his head off.”
“Calm down, Blondie. No need to shed blood. Yet.”
“We worked hard to break Celine out of her shell, and now he’s ruining it.” Too good to be true, a primary jerk-alert sign. How had she missed it? As Lauren loaded up on brownies, Ari stole her tacos. “Hey.”
“Stop giving me side-eye.” Ari held her plate out of reach and pointed at Lauren’s. “You only scarf down that much when you’re worried or frustrated.”
“I’m upset over what’s happening to Celine.”
“Doing something about it is better than gaining a bazillion pounds.”
“Aside from stringing up Thane, what can I do?”